Movie Review: Juno

Juno has earned critical acclaim since its release in December, which has made it somewhat of a surprising and untraditional contender for this year's Best Picture Academy Award. It will almost certainly fail to win, as either No Country For Old Men and the yet-to-be-reviewed There Will Be Blood will walk away with the Oscar. It is a good film, and one that I enjoyed more than those two, but there were films more deserving of the nomination, in my view, including 3:10 to Yuma, American Gangster, and Gone Baby Gone. Its driving force is that it's this year's Little Miss Sunshine: a halff-comedy that gains momentum as a hip movie to see. But this review is not about what's better about other movies, but instead what's good about this one.

Despite its many acclaims, Juno has not been universally embraced. Commentators have taken issue with, in particular, its supposed infantilization of men and its casual treatment of abortion. I have legitimate sympathy for the latter argument, but I think that Kathryn Jean Lopez of the National Review is simply reading too much into the message of the film as it relates to its immature would-be father, Mark.

Juno revolves around the unintended pregnancy of its 16-year-old titular character. It relates one of those journeys that characters in tough situations are required to go through, pursuant to Hollywood law. Juno flirts with the notion of having an abortion, instead decides to put her child up for adoption, and then comes to terms with it. The adoptive parents she finds, Vanessa and Mark, are initially introduced as caricatures of bland, suburban yuppies. When you first see them on screen, you can hear the collective groan emanating from the audience that sympathizes with the hip, though immature, pregnant teenager. You can see her discomfort in being in such a neatly-arrayed house that is at odds with the warm, inviting character of her own home. The colors play into this: Mark and Vanessa live in a house where everything is pale: pale blue, pale yellow, pale pink. Juno's home has friendly, warm, full hues. It feels like home. Mark and Vanessa's house does not. It feels like the set for a commercial.

Things are not all as they seem, as Juno quickly finds out. She discovers Mark's room upstairs, replete with keyboards, a stereo, punk rock albums, and other wonderfully cool items. Being a high school hipster, she naturally falls in love with that part of the house, and immediately warms up to Mark. Within ten minutes, we know that her baby will be OK, because however hopelessly bland her baby's adopted mother is, its adopted father will make sure the baby grows up with an education in popular culture. Mark is the kind of parent that Juno would want to be, which should be a warning sign, because Juno is sixteen, and Mark isn't.

It is at this juncture that the criticism of Juno as perpetuating the stereotype of the childlike male completely misses the point. Do not be drawn in by Mark's attitude or his personality. It becomes clear rather quickly that he's not nearly as gung-ho about the whole adoption thing as his wife is, and it's clearly his wife that's driving the effort. The brilliance in this depiction is that the audience is duped into believing that Mark is the good guy in this marriage, and that Vanessa is uptight, unrealistic, desperate, and (worst of all) -- uncool.

So, we are taken along on this ride of Juno's, as she clearly grows infatuated with Mark, an infatuation that is distressingly reciprocated with increasing intensity. Whether this is Mark's yearning for the years of his youth or something more sinister is a question that I will leave here, but the more we get to know Mark, the more we wonder whether he'd truly make a good father.

The film climaxes, as far as I'm concerned, with an unplanned meeting at a mall between Juno and Vanessa. Vanessa, we have learned, had been burned on an attempted adoption before, which made her need to have a child that she can't make for herself all the more pressing. When she runs into Juno, there is a moment where it seems awkward, but we discover with Juno that Vanessa's need to raise and love a child is not superficial, it is deep, and it is sincere. When she begins to speak to the unborn baby inside of Juno, you simply know that this is a woman who will make, despite whatever flaws Juno may see in her, a good mother. That moment is what makes Juno determined to go through with the adoption after Mark and Vanessa split, because Juno knows that Vanessa is the one who needs the child, and is therefore the only one of the two who will make a good parent.

The rest of the film is essentially window dressing to this central story. One of the stronger aspects of Juno is how honestly it portrays the title character. It may not make sense to everybody in the audience (I am only four years removed from high school and therefore positioned excellently to understand it) but when I watch Juno speak in hip lingo, I can tell that she's not doing it because she's cool, she's doing it because she's afraid she's not. Her interactions with the people around her betray her emotions, if you're paying close attention, you can see the fear in her eyes when she talks to people she wants to impress, like her friend (and co-fornicator) Paulie.

Poor Juno is afraid of so many things. It's hard enough to deal with her social anxieties, the ones that all kids her age have, without having to face her fears related to a pregnancy, let alone giving up her own flesh and blood to what are essentially strangers. Juno explores Juno rather satisfactorily, I think.

I cannot let a review of this movie pass without addressing the issue of abortion. While Juno decides to carry her child to term, and is thus occasionally cited as being a pro-life movie, it is clear that screenwriter Diablo Cody sees no moral problem with terminating a pregnancy. The dilemma that Juno faces is not taken particularly seriously. While her family is shown to think that her pregnancy is indeed the serious issue it is, no play is given to the moral consequences of having an abortion. The manner in which she comes to her decision to not have an abortion is haphazard and certainly not thought-out. The lone pro-life character in the film is treated with derision, and the message about abortion is clear: Juno didn't have one, but it would have been fine if she did. In a film that has some depth, it's extremely disappointing that the topic is not taken under serious consideration.

Finally, I can't say enough about Ellen Page's portrayal of Juno. She is rightfully up for many awards, and very likely ought to win them. Page plays Juno perfectly. She feels real. She is not necessarily normal, or representative of an average girl her age, but she is tangible. All the other characters could have been played by different actors and the movie would not suffer, but Ellen Page's mastery of her character is that of an actress with far more experience. Perhaps it is the case that Page is playing herself as much as anyone -- I wouldn't be surprised to learn that.

Juno is worth seeing, and aside from some instances of gratuitous vulgarity, ought to be acceptable to most people. its central story is very well designed, and even packs some emotional power. I think that in the arena of abortion, the movie does make assumptions about its audience, assumptions that will not always be correct, but the film can still be enjoyed regardless.

Movie Review: No Country for Old Men

No Country for Old Men is really two movies in one. It starts one way and ends a completely different way. In that, it is similar to Robert Rodriguez's From Dusk 'Till Dawn, except it approaches its subject matter with more seriousness. I can't help but feel as if the source material (a novel of the same name by Cormac McCarthy) wasn't entirely suited to an adaptation. The movie's strong first hour is a textbook example of how to build suspense with little violence. Unfortunately, the Coen brothers fail to bring the story home. Characters we've followed with such intensity are taken away from us with little warning, and we are forced to deduce what happens because we do not see it.

The story and its mystery are extremely well-presented. We are introduced to the film's villain, the psychopathic Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), in a terrifying manner befitting a man who cannot be understood, merely described. The hero is a poor country man named Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin), who stumbles upon the remains of a massacre, takes a chance, and steals a suitcase full of money from a dead man. We follow Llewelyn as he tries to run from the danger posed to him and his young wife Carla Jean by Chigurh, and the details slowly unravel. We discover why the massacre occurred, we briefly explore the relationship between Llewelyn and his wife, and we watch Llewelyn's deceptions and innovations as he tries to hide both himself and the money from Chigurh, who always seems to be just a step behind him, from town to town, and hotel to hotel. They finally confront one another in a tense but curiously anticlimactic gunfight on the streets of Del Rio, a town on the border of Mexico. When the fight is over, we know that nothing has changed -- the final confrontation has just been delayed another day.

We are treated to brief glimpses of Llewelyn's inner character. He is a man with guilt on his shoulders, but he is not able to simply run away from his troubles. An early scene sees him almost get killed after returning to the scene of the massacre against his better judgement to offer water to a dying man. Similarly, he refuses merely to disappear with Carla to escape from Chigurh, and instead choses to go after the killer to protect his wife. It is at this point that the movie loses its way.

The most curious inclusion in this book is the character of Sheriff Bell (Tommy Lee Jones), the head of law enforcement in Llewelyn's home county. Bell is at this point a relic of the past, an old man who remembers a time when the local sheriff didn't have to carry a gun, something that we are told is no longer feasible. Bell deduces what has happened, and tries vainly to warn Llewelyn about Chigurh, but his main purpose seems to be to preach about how the world has changed to something that he doesn't really understand anymore. The last half of the film deals mainly with Llewelyn's attempt to get in contact with his wife, and Bell's attempt to save Llewelyn from his fate, but after a strange and essentially unexplained turn of events, we are left just with Bell's recollections and bleak view of the future.

The character of Chigurh is the most interesting aspect of No Country for Old Men. We have met men, who, like him, lack scruples when money is involved. The annals of film are ripe with murderous villains who are willing to do anything where money is involved. We have also seen scores of cruel, twisted men who will kill and maim and torture for the pure pleasure of it. Chigurh is different, though. He does not kill for pleasure, and he is not changed by money. He can't betray you, because he is loyal to nobody. He doesn't enjoy killing you, but he doesn't find it distasteful, either -- he simply does it. Life means nothing to him, people mean nothing to him, but he is always a man of his word. He is not emotional, and he does not punish people for their actions, but if he tells you he is going to do something, he will surely do it. The movie ends on an ambiguous note, with Chigurh never really held accountable for what he is, or without us knowing if his humanity ever found him.

Woody Harrelson has a brief and solid appearance as a bounty hunter sent to retrieve the money. His contrast as a human being to Chigurh is worthwhile, and it's a shame that the character wasn't expanded.

No Country for Old Men has been mentioned as an Oscar contender. Bardem's performance of Chigurh has given us one of the most memorable film villains, but the rest of the movie falls short. It's a shame to watch such a promising beginning fade away by the end of the film. Maybe it's a generational thing about the world changing, something that I would understand if I were my father's age, but I suspect that No Country for Old Men is just a novel that wasn't entirely suited to the silver screen.

Movie Review: American Gangster

Let's get one thing out of the way: American Gangster is not the best movie of the year. It is not the next Godfather. It is not the kind of movie that changes your life, or the way that you view film. If you go into this movie with any of those expectations, you will be disappointed. With that said, we can now begin to appreciate American Gangster for what it is: a very good story with well-acted characters of depth and sometimes ambiguous morality.

There are two sides to this story, even though we see from the start how they are to intertwine. One half of the movie traces the rise of Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington), the eponymous gangster. Lucas propels his own rise in the New York City criminal underground through ambitious business decisions and shrewd political calculation. Lucas is portrayed in a favorable light, as a man who cares deeply about family, and who abhors the excesses of others in his community. The other side of this picture follows Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), a straight New Jersey cop who passes the bar exam and is picked to head a team of Narcotics detectives.

The characters are complete, but where the film is lacking is in its attempt to become an epic story. All the elements are there: larger than life characters, a historical setting, and a large period of time that permits moviegoers to trace the rise and fall of a great figure, but the film's action is too choppy and random. Instead of a single encompassing story, we have dozens of smaller, related ones. This does not make American Gangster is a poor movie, because it is very good. What it means, though, is that we learn more about what makes its characters tick instead of seeing the larger picture of how they affect everybody around them.

Washington, unsurprisingly, owns his portrayal of Lucas. He steps into Lucas' shoes as effortlessly as the well-tailored suits that Lucas favors. Through him we can really see all the different aspects of Lucas: his intelligence, his desperate desire to succeed, his rage when he or those around him make a mistake. We also see his humanity. He treats those around him well, but he holds his friends and his family to a high standard. His control of his organization, his willingness to use violence, and his desire to take care of his family is just as intense as Don Corleone's, but Frank Lucas would also feel at home in a Rockwell painting: he is an American patriarch. In Lucas, we see the entire American Dream laid out in front of us: born in poverty, Lucas gets to the top through his intelligence, his ambition, and his dedication to hard work. He does it not just for himself, but for his mother (for whom he buys a house) and his wife (to whom he is devoted). But Lucas is the same man at the end of the film that he was at the start. He is a portrait -- an interesting and detailed one, to be sure, but just that.

The real depth of this film is found in Richie Roberts. Roberts is a rarity in New York-area law enforcement: he's not crooked. Early on in the film, he makes a decision that earns him the scorn not just of his fellow cops in Jersey, but makes him infamous in the entire region. His decision is right, his decision is just, and his decision is exactly what we expect our heroes to make... but this makes him an outcast with the fraternity of police officers. He is cursed at, made fun of, and completely rejected by the people he's spent his entire adult life working with. Roberts accepts this rejection, but it troubles him as much as it would anybody else. Halfway through the film, Roberts is given the opportunity to go back on his fanatical devotion to doing the right thing, but he resists temptation.

Contrasting with his saintly life as a cop, Roberts's home life is extremely troubled. His wife is divorcing him. He can't find time to see his son. He is a womanizer. His best friend is a criminal, and not just a petty thief, either. But still Roberts finds the energy to become a lawyer, to overcome his odd fear of public speaking, and to continue against all odds to do the right thing. Roberts doesn't cut deals, he doesn't take "no" for an answer, and he takes all the necessary risks to do the right thing. This puts him in opposition to seemingly the entire world, except for his hand-picked team of crack narcotics detectives. It is perhaps their support and the knowledge that he's not alone in a sea of corruption that keeps him going, that keeps him hunting for the kingpin of New York City's drug scene.

The best scene of the entire movie comes at its climax, the first time that Crowe and Washington share a scene. Their intensities play off of each other, from Lucas's anger to Roberts's self-assurance. To the end, Roberts does not compromise, and he will not be intimidated. Lucas has what would seem like the perfect American life -- the family, the house, and the money. But it is Roberts, who lives by himself in a run-down apartment, who demonstrates courage and what it takes to be a man.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

This is a new still for the upcoming film based on Alan Moore's stupendous graphic novel, Watchmen. This single shot is a great bit of promotion... it gives us Watchmen fans a one-look understanding of what this film will be. Looking at Rorschach walking through a wet and dirty city street scene, with the pawn shop, the trash, the graffiti, and the political power that rules this fictional 1980's society is like watching a panel of the comic come to life.

This movie's not due out until March 2009, so still plenty of time to get excited...

Raiders of the Lost Art of Filmmaking

Weekends off are always something special. Don't get me wrong: I love camp, and at some point in the future I'm sure that I'll wax eloquent about it, but weekend off is certainly not the time to do that. This weekend, I have an international staff member staying with me. His name is Xih-Yun Yang, but we call him "Cloud" because apparently that's what his name means in Chinese. I have been unable to verify this, but I trust that he is telling the truth. In any case, I digress.

I've been thoroughly disappointed by this summer's Hollywood far. X-Men 3 was a bad comic book adapted to the big screen, The DaVinci Code was good for what it was, but let's be honest: the source material wasn't much to start with, and the movie certainly did nothing to surpass it. Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest was a disaster. Fortunately, through a tip off from li'l brother Keith, we went to see Raiders of the Lost Ark at the Music Box this evening, which just made my day.

I've only seen the movie twice now, but each time it's been great. It's not the best film ever made, and it's not better than many other Lucas and Spielberg movies, but it's probably one of the best examples of how to make an awesome action/adventure movie that doesn't shortchange itself either comedically or dramatically, something that happens far too often today. Seeing it on the big screen was worth the trip (how many times can you see 25 year-old movies in a theater?). Seeing it for a second time let me sit back and watch more carefully, too. The subtle commentary on German craftsmanship found in the scene where Indy is fighting for his life on the hood and grill of the Mercedes truck (which falls apart) was well appreciated, as was the Han Solo reference in Indy's "hocus pocus" line, which was not lost on this Star Wars geek.

Why is it that Hollywood has lost its way? Where are this generation's Lucases and Spielbergs? This stuff isn't anything particularly imaginative, but it's entertaining as hell, and extremely well done. Really, that's all an audience really craves. Instead, we get insulting crap like Pirates, the studios make a bundle of dough, and the audience leaves wondering why they just dropped nine bucks on a movie that makes Leslie Nielsen flicks look like Academy Award winners. I suppose that the dollars are the answer to the question, but I feel like somebody's going to come out with a great original blockbuster movie and smash some records, though I admit that could be more hope than anything else.

Well, one can always hope...

Top five misconceptions about the 2006 Cubs

1. Derrek Lee's 2005 season was fluke
In fact, Lee's prowess at the plate was a direct result of a swing mechanics change that closed his "hole" on the inside corner. Expect a similar 2006.

2. The Cubs' pitching staff is in shambles
While somewhat true due to the state of Kerry Wood, discerning fans will realize a few things: first, Mark Prior should be expected to pitch a full season (his injuries are freaks, not expected); second, Zambrano is one of the best pitchers in the NL and should be considered a Cy Young candidate (so should Prior and a healthy Wood); third, Maddux is no creampuff (he actually led the Cubs in IP!); and fourth, the Cubs #5 slot can be filled by any number of capable pitchers, including Jerome Williams (3.91 ERA in 2005 and the projected fifth starter), Glendon Rusch, and youngsters Rich Hill, John Koronka and Angel Guzman. By the end of the spring, this will all be much clearer.

3. The Cubs are still reeling at the plate from the losses of Moises Alou and Sammy Sosa, and now Nomar Garciaparra
Derrek Lee is likely to make up for a good portion of that again (see #1). Aramis Ramirez's 2005 was hampered by a groin injury, and this could very well be a breakout year for him. Matt Murton, while still a rookie last year, batted .321/.386. The biggest addition to the Cubs lineup, however, is Juan Pierre, who can be counted on to get on base much more frequently than Neifi ".298 OBP" Perez.

4. The Cubs' bullpen is incapable of holding a lead
Ryan Dempster was 33/35 in save opportunities last year (and he wound up picking up the win for the two games he blew). The Cubs have considerably bolstered their middle relief by adding Scott Eyre and Bullet Bob Howry. Scott Williamson, who flew under the radar last year, is now fully recovered from the arm surgery he had to undergo... and is in exactly the same position that Ryan Dempster was in last year. The Cubs' 2006 bullpen might turn out to be the best in the league.

5. Dusty Baker doesn't know how to draw up a lineup, read the stat splits, or take out a pitcher at the right time.
No argument here.

Song Review: "When The Sun Goes Down" (Arctic Monkeys)

I know that NME is linked in my sidebar, but I assure you that's only because they have a knack for finding things out before other music-oriented websites, and are therefore a useful source of information. Of course, to find those tidbits that are valuable, one must sort through the crap that they try to jam down the throats of every decent man and woman in the Anglosphere. A lot of people say that the Arctic Monkeys are a perfect example of that over-hyping, and I can't really say I disagree with them.

For those not in the know, the Arctic Monkeys are supposedly the next Oasis. Their debut single, "I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor" topped the UK charts, and so has its successor, "When The Sun Goes Down". This proves that the Brits have no clue what they're listening to, because "Dancefloor" is the definition of mediocre song. It's almost the quintessential amateur rock song: the kind of sound you'd expect from a group of college kids who just decided to get together to play some music. The rhythms are simple, the lyrics are appropriately insignificant, but worst of all, it sounds like the band is still learning how to play their instruments. By contrast, "When The Sun Goes Down" is a significantly better song. It's tight as hell: there's no doubt the kids know what they're doing. It's danceable. The guitars don't sound like they were recorded by putting a Talkboy up to an amp: this is the real thing. At times, it's even Franz Ferdinandesque, echoing "Jacqueline" (off of 2004's Franz Ferdinand) in its structure. This should not be confused with the superior music of those Scottish rock gods, but it's a giant step in the right direction for the Arctic Monkeys.

I don't claim to understand how the US charts work, but I think that this song is far more chartable than "Dancefloor", so those of you poor souls who still listen to the radio might catch it on your local alt-rock station. Every band really needs a song that launches them on to the scene: from "I Want To Hold Your Hand" to "Take Me Out", and this could very well be the Arctic Monkeys. While I haven't bought their album yet (and I don't necessarily have plans to), "When The Sun Goes Down" is a solid effort, that might bring about such a purchase in the future. A final note: at the time of publishing, tickets for their March show at the Metro in Chicago are going for about $50 a pop, which is curious because I don't think they're really all that popular here. I hope for the sake of the suckers who are buying those tickets that the Monkeys live up to the hype.

7/10

Song Review: Steady, As She Goes (The Raconteurs)

I've been waiting over six months for this song.

Shortly after the release of the White Stripes' fourth album, Get Behind Me Satan, news came out that Jack White was working with Brendan Benson on "Detroit's answer to Nevermind". The promise of an album that let Jack White's songwriting loose with other capable musicians to back him up, while at the same time looking to challenge Nevermind in terms of quality and impact excited me, and I'm sure many others. The fact that Benson would be a part of the project made me hopeful that he and White would push each other to a higher and higher level, as a modern-day Lennon/McCartney. Beyond that, I don't know what I expected, exactly, but I thought that when I heard that first song, it would be like hearing U2's "Zoo Station" for the first time (which, I admit, was in 2000 -- so sue me). Achtung Baby changed my perception of what popular rock could be, and I hoped with all my heart that White's new band, named the Raconteurs, would do that again.

In that aspect I'm afraid that I was dearly disappointed. "Steady As She Goes" is a good song, don't get me wrong. But it suffers in that I feel like I've heard it before. This is not to say that it sounds like the White Stripes or even Benson's solo work, but instead it really feels like it's almost -- dare I say it? -- safe. Were it not for White's unique voice, this song would probably wind up just blending into the background.

I was also hoping that the dual guitars would do something more interesting than the simple rhythm/riff model of pop rock, and something more akin to how Franz Ferdinand uses their own guitar-playing duo. Alas, that is nowhere to be found, and the Raconteurs come off sounding not terribly unlike clones of modern-day Weezer, except they don't have the loveable geek image or outstanding harmonies going for them.

On the plus side, it's nice to hear somebody other than Meg White backing up Jack White, and Benson is a very capable singer. Both are proven talents in songwriting, and I think it's safe to say that this is far from their best effort. Their album, Broken Boy Soldiers, is due out in May, with the possibility of another single before that. "Steady, As She Goes" feels like the Raconteurs are testing the water, and the potential of this band to develop into something truly interesting remains. But if this is the best that they can do, Benson and White are best suited to going back to where they came from.

6/10

Concert Review: U2

September 26, 2005 - Bradley Center, Milwaukee, WI



From the start of their twenty-two song set Wednesday night in Milwaukee, U2 was on fire. It certainly seemed like a special night for U2 and the Milwaukee fans, many of whom had waited outside in the rain for hours prior to the opening of the arena. Perhaps it was the one-two punch of favorable items in Wednesday's news (the IRA's announcement that they had disarmed fully and the debt-cancellation OK'd by the IMF and World Bank -- more on these later), or perhaps it was the unusually energetic crowd. In either case, it meant that the band was at the top of their game.

The show opened with the one-two punch of City Of Blinding Lights and Vertigo. This has been the opening combination on the majority of American shows on this tour, and U2 has it down cold. Accompanied by the full voice of the crowd during portions of each song ("Oh...you...look...so beautiful tonight!" in City and the "Hola!" call-back of Vertigo), Bono's voice was powerful and on target. With drummer Larry Mullen and bassist Adam Clayton providing an unbeatable backbeat, The Edge powered through the two songs off of 2004's How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb like it was the band's first anniversary instead of its twenty-ninth. The difference, of course, is that the Edge didn't have all those nifty guitar effects to play with back in the late seventies.

After the popular Elevation, U2 played two songs off of their first album, Boy. The first one, The Electric Co., has become a staple rocker of the Vertigo Tour, and rightfully so. The second song, The Ocean, was somewhat of a downer, but it offered Bono the opportunity to talk about the band getting together for the first time, on September 25, 1976. This duo was followed by fan favorite I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, which was a fitting choice. One thing U2 has done fairly consistantly over the years is to continue reaching forward, always expanding the scope of their music, and resisting the tempatation to stick with what made them "Rock's Hottest Ticket" way back in 1987.

Demonstrating the strength of their catalog, U2 then played four post-2000 numbers. First up was a very strong rendition of Beautiful Day, off of 2000's All That You Can't Leave Behind. Following that were a trio of songs from Bomb. The first two were slow songs: Miracle Drug and Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own. Miracle Drug was surprisingly strong, and Sometimes was almost as passionate as it gets. Both songs are signature U2. Bono announced that the IMF and World Bank had agreed to drop the debt of several third-world countries at the end of Miracle Drug (which is a song for the future, according to Bono's introduction to it). The third song, Love And Peace Or Else, was a dirty rocker that contrasted drastically with the first two. While Bono joined Mullen, who was banging on a drum at the tip of the elliptical walkway that extended into the middle of the floor, The Edge and Clayton were able to show off their top-notch skills in what is essentially their song -- to anyone who was watching.

One of the most stirring renditions in recent memory of the band's famous Sunday Bloody Sunday followed. When Bono was given an Irish flag by a fan, he proudly held it up. He explained that in years past, he would not have felt comfortable with the flag, because of what he said were referred to as the "troubles in Ireland." He went on to inform the audience that the Provisional IRA had announced that all of its arms had been decommissioned. It was a very powerful moment for the band, as it provided a very distinct sense of closure when compared to another performance of Sunday Bloody Sunday from 1987, immortalized in the movie Rattle And Hum, in which Bono proclaimed (among other things), "F*** the revolution!" Bono finished the song with the flag wrapped around his microphone.

Following Sunday Bloody Sunday was another war-themed song: Bullet The Blue Sky. Bullet saw the band getting back on script, with Bono assuming the pose of a blindfolded prisoner of war, a move that becomes more cringe-worthy every time one sees it. Even so, the song was furious and loud, the way it's supposed to be. Careful listeners were able to hear three snippets: besides the usual lines from When Johnny Comes Marching Home and U2's own The Hands That Built America, Bono sang one line from Please, which was the only representation of the band's maligned masterpiece, Pop. Bullet was follwed by Ms. Sarajevo, from a 1995 collaboration with Brian Eno. While the song originally featured Luciano Pavarotti, Bono attempted his lines with mixed success: enough to keep concertgoers from cringing, while not even aproaching the level of the famed tenor.

Rounding off the main set were three hits that were used to push Bono's One Campaign and general African theme. Pride (In The Name Of Love) sounded almost as good as it ever has live, with massive audience participation. This was follwed by Where The Streets Have No Name, which served as the climax of the show. The crowd's roar was deafening by the end of the song, causing Bono to stop on the catwalk and stare at the crown with genuine wonder as the song wound down. It was a rare "wow" moment for one of rock's most accomplished frontmen. The main set was finished off by One, under a sea of cell-phone lights -- a 21st Century moment, according to Bono.

The encore opened with a change of pace: The Edge and Bono appeared and played The First Time (from 1993's Zooropa) for the second time ever. The acoustic-plus-voice theme continued with a beautiful rendition of Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses, which featured a rare mistake by U2, when Bono and The Edge mixed signals, requiring a restart of the song to everyone's general amusement. They finished the first encore with a pretty good version of the ever-popular With Or Without You, which saw the requisite girl-on-stage-with-Bono, as well as a return of the enormously loud crowd participation.

The second encore was set off to a rocking start by All Because Of You (a song that I maintain should be played directly after Vertigo, but worked pretty well this time around). The fast pace was quickly discontinued with an acoustic version of Yahweh, which the band still insists on playing over far-superior songs, and the last song of the night was the glorious "40", complete with the traditional switching of instruments between The Edge and Clayton (the story goes that Clayton missed the recording of "40", and so feels that The Edge, who supplied the bassline for the song originally, should also play it live) and the one-at-a-time exits. Finally left on stage alone at the end of the night was the 29-year-old band's originator, Larry Mullen, which provided a fitting end to a very happy birthday for U2.

Concert Review: U2

September 21, 2005 - United Center, Chicago, IL

Photo credit: DANNO

U2's worldwide Vertigo tour has finally come back to the United States for an extended third leg, in part to make up for a long delay in the tour start during the spring. September 21's show at the United Center was the sixth and last show in Chicago on this tour -- at least that's been announced. Rumors are flying through the U2 fan community that there are plans to bring back Vertigo to outdoor venues in the summer of 2006 in the United States. These are, of course rumors.

I've had the pleasure of seeing five of the six Vertigo shows in Chicago, and I can say with some certainty that this was probably the worst of the five (although the May 7 show may give it a run for its money in that category). This isn't, of course, to say it was a bad show, but it was definitely an off night for U2.

But before we get into the nitpicks and low points, I feel that U2 was able to show in portions of the show why they are the best rock band in the world. The opening song, City Of Blinding Lights, is probably one of the best tracks they've ever laid down, and is an incredible way to open the show. I've seen all three openers used (the others are Love And Peace Or Else and Vertigo), and City Of Blinding Lights is without a doubt the strongest. Beyond the beautiful show of blinding lights (pardon the pun!) and the confetti that falls from the ceiling like it's the new year, the music shines through as powerfully as the 1987 song Where The Streets Have No Name once did. The song is definitively U2: it has ringing guitars and rising vocals, and it's the perfect way to start a show.

The Electric Co., which is off of their 1980 debut album, Boy, remains one of the strongest songs in the show. It's interesting the way that it contrasts with Vertigo, which comes two songs before it: U2's big rocker off of How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb can't hope to compete with one from 25 years before -- which isn't to say that Vertigo doesn't have a ton of energy to it, but that Electric Co. is simply a very strong and exciting rock number. Both songs are significantly better than the 2001 single Elevation, which is situated in between Vertigo and Electric Co., and is dumbfoundingly a fan favorite.

The third highlight of the show was the first song of the encore, Bad. Bad started the tour as a no-show, but the band has been playing it more and more often since the tour started, to its credit. Bad, from 1984's The Unforgettable Fire, is almost always a highlight when it's played. What made this rendition of it stand out more than usual was the addition of an extended snippet of The First Time, which had just been played the night before for the first time ever (that pun was unintended!). The snippet worked particularly well for the song, which is famous for providing Bono the opportunity to sing other songs (popular choices include The Rolling Stones' Ruby Tuesday and Sympathy For The Devil).

These three songs are very persuasive arguments that U2 is still the world's greatest band. Unfortunately, the rest of the show wasn't quite able to pick up that argument.

One of U2's biggest mistakes on the Vertigo tour has been to fairly consistantly play a relatively unknown song of theirs off of Boy, entitled The Ocean. It's two minutes of complete crap, and really just a waste of time. Die-hard fans have hailed it, as the last time it was played before this tour was in 1982. All I can say to that is there may have been a reason that the song didn't show up on subsequent tours. Following The Ocean was an acoustic version of Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses, which is a pretty good song, but this particular rendition of it felt that it was somehow lacking.

Following 2001 hit Beautiful Day, which is rightfully going to be played at every concert on this tour, was a trio of songs from How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb. The first one, Miracle Drug, is a decent song that doesn't work particularly well live. It was preceded by one of the more groan-inspiring rants by Bono, who told a marginally comprehensible story about how The Edge and his guitar tech were aliens from the future. The second song, Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own, is a highlight of Bomb, and is always a very heartfelt song when played live. The third song of the trio, Yahweh, was moved to the main set from the encore for the first time, and performed no better there. While not quite as bad as The Ocean, the only thing Yahweh has going for it is a pretty nifty video sequence, which was born while the band was in Europe over the summer.

Rounding off the main set was a seven-song sequence of songs with attached political messages. The first three, referred to by fans as the "war trilogy", fell flat compared to their impact back in May. Love And Peace Or Else, a strong song from Bomb, seemed uninspired. 1983 hit Sunday Bloody Sunday, one of the band's best all-time tunes, suffered from the same lack of feeling. Perhaps playing these songs every night has left the band bored, but that's no excuse for delivering a robotic performance of one of their most emotional songs ever. The third song of the "war trilogy" was Bullet The Blue Sky, a fan favorite that evolves on each tour, but this too seemed to fall flat.

While Running To Stand Still (a song about drug addiction that was inexplicably dedicated to American soldiers on the first leg) was played after Bullet during the spring, the band has begun to play a song written with Brian Eno in 1995 called Miss Sarajevo. The original recording of the song features Luciano Pavarotti singing an operatic solo, which Bono attempted to replicate on stage. Unfortunately, Bono is no Pavarotti, which became dreadfully obvious the longer the song went.

Following Miss Sarajevo was the "Africa trilogy" (see a theme here?). Three of U2's biggest hits and best songs have been co-opted by Bono in an attempt to raise awareness for his One Campaign. This is, to be sure, a noble goal, but it really just winds up wrecking what could be the climax of the show. Pride (In The Name Of Love) was actually managing to overcome this before the band seemed to stop it early. Where The Streets Have No Name, which always elicits a huge fan reaction, nevertheless fails to live up to its potential from the moment Bono starts his obviously rehearsed rant that culminates in the yell, "Africa! Africa!" Gone from every single prior tour since 1987 was the red background that traditionally accompanies the song: in its place instead was a backdrop of African flags. Even so, the brilliance of the song manages to shine through, while still not reaching its previous great heights. Ending the main set was 1991's One, which was preceded by another rehearsed speech about the One campaign. The thing that really gets me about these speeches is that they are so unchanged from the spring that I begin to question their legitimacy. It's not moving if it's not from the heart.

After the surprise encore opening of Bad-The First Time, U2 broke out a very underplayed gem from Bomb, Original Of The Species. This is beautiful a song that deserves to be in the set most nights. Original was followed by With or Without You, a song that despite being a fan favorite might be a tad overplayed by now. U2 rounded out the first encore with an acoustic version of Fast Cars, a pseudo b-side with a Spanish feeling that was neat to hear live. Bono brought a girl up on stage to dance, and she might have even upstaged him with her dancing.

The second encore started with Bomb rocker All Because Of You. The only time I've ever seen this song work was when it was played directly after Vertigo, and I'm afraid that it was no exception here. The closer, "40" was a nice end to the show, especially given that the band had appeared to abandon it after the end of the Lovetown Tour in 1990.

All in all, it was a hit-and-miss show. Things that had worked in May, such as the two "trilogies", seemed to be lacking in feeling and inspiration, but the high moments of the show were indeed quite high. There is little doubt in my mind that U2 is still the best band in the world (although when the challengers are Coldplay, it's not exactly much of a fight), but for a U2 show, this one was at best mediocre. Fortunately, reviews of other shows surrounding this one seem to be positive, so it appears that this show was just an off night. Let's hope that's all it was, and not an early sign of the impending demise of U2 as a musical force.