Quentin Tarantino Titillates With Bloodiest Title to Date, 'The Hateful Eight'

Grandmaster of cinephilia, ultra-violence, and all around cinematic agent provocateur, Quentin Tarantino is one of Hollywood’s most befuddling entities. Regardless of one’s personal view on Tarantino’s oeuvre to date, it is downright damning to argue that Tarantino’s body of work does not, at the very least, pique the general movie-goers’ interest.

Tarantino’s eighth addendum to his bloodlust anthology is The Hateful Eight, presented in resplendent, wide-screen 70-millimeter Panovision. While such a detail may not have been a pertinent morsel of information to most movie goers, one Mr. Tarantino felt it was vital to the film’s release.

The screenplay The Hateful Eight followed a treacherous pathway into becoming a film. Tarantino admitted his first draft of what would eventually become The Hateful Eight had originally been intended as a sequel to his 2013 release, Django Unchained, this time in novel form, called Django in White Hell. Upon deciding the character of Django would not fit in such a story, Tarantino reworked the story into a script that would eventually become the film’s first draft.

Unfortunately, the script for The Hateful Eight leaked shortly after the film’s announcement in January of 2014, and Tarantino threatened to cancel the project altogether. Following a Los Angeles live reading of the leaked script, which featured a number of the finished film’s cast (Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Walton Goggins, James Parks, Zoe Bell) in April of 2014, Tarantino announced he was working on two separate drafts with alternate endings.

Fast forward to around the film’s official release, the 70-millimeter “Roadshow” version set to premiere at select theaters (ones that had the proper setup to run 70 mm film) on December 8th, 2015. Sadly, as had become the motif throughout the journey of The Hateful Eight, the film itself was leaked by Hive-CM8, an internet group with a dubious goal of leaking “40 films.”

Despite being torrented on a number platforms and thousands of people, the film finally made its way to its select theater and eventual wide release on Christmas Day with plenty of steam, even with the leak. Tarantino’s preference for shooting in 70 mm cinemascope surely enticed enough cinephiles to see the film in theaters.

The Hateful Eight is a three-hour master class in Tarantino-isms – a film clocking in at a hair over three hours, a magnificent Ennio Morricone score, gratuitous violence, and dark comedic relief that leaves viewers painfully aware of the irony of their own existence.

In short, The Hateful Eight is a post-Civil War character study set in a sequestered haberdashery somewhere amongst the Rockies, following the trials and tribulations surrounding a vicious blizzard, a motley crew of despicable bounty hunters, and conspicuous developments throughout the film.

The Hateful Eight is divided into five chapters, each respective scene being set by Tarantino’s narration. The film opens in the midst of a mountain passage, a stagecoach plowing through the ivory snowdrift. Shortly thereafter, we’re introduced to whom we’re led to believe as the film’s protagonist, one Mr. John “The Hangman” Ruth (Kurt Russell), and his bounty Debbie Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh) as they reach an impasse on their journey to Red Rock. The aforementioned impasse would be none other than Civil War-hero-turned-bounty hunter, Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), who also happened to be in close correspondence with President Abraham Lincoln, proved by the letter kept in his pocket, which becomes an integral aspect of the film.

Warren and Ruth make a pact to give Warren and his slew of bounties transport to Red Rock, but after stopping at Minnie’s Haberdashery a little ways outside of the town of Red Rock. Along the ride, some expository dialogue is exchanged between Warren and Ruth, mostly admiring and sympathetic as Ruth badgers Warren to share his Lincoln letter. Jason-Leigh’s Domergue reveals her truly despicable nature while throwing epithets at Warren and eventually spitting on his Lincoln letter, to which Warren promptly punches her out of the stagecoach. In true Tarantino fashion, the characters in The Hateful Eight are not spared in the slightest when it comes to receiving punishment.

The film spends two whole acts before it reaches Minnie’s Haberdashery, the film’s primary setting. Following their dustup in the stagecoach, driven by the trusty O.B. (James Parks), Ruth, Warren, and Domergue come across a former Confederate sympathizer, Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins), who is coincidentally headed to Red Rock to (supposedly) become the town’s newest sheriff. Ruth is skeptical of the all too convenient run in of two well-known bounty hunters en route to hanging Domergue, but nonetheless allows Mannix to join. The remaining journey to Minnie’s Haberdashery is poignantly filled with deft dialogue on racial inequality and indignation of failing institutions, under the guise of fresh wounds from the Civil War.

When the blizzard beaten travelers finally arrive at Minnie’s Haberdashery, they’re met by the likes of Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth) aka “The Little Man,” Bob (Demian Bichir) aka “The Mexican,” Joe Gage aka “The Cow Puncher,” and General Sanford “Sandy” Smithers (Bruce Dern). From the travelers’ arrival at Minnie’s Haberdashery, R-rated hi-jinks ensue, and in the most classic of Tarantino fashion, an all out salvo of verbiage and bloodshed, all within the confines of a singular setting, making The Hateful Eight one of, if not the most violent Tarantino film to date.

Rather than delve into further details surrounding the film’s unique perversions and ultimate outcome, it may be best to give the film one final aerial view. Tarantino manages to combine vengeance, sympathy, pure evil, and cumbersome characters into powerful character study that is at times convoluted, but all in all entertaining. There are powerful performances from Tarantino mainstays (Jackson) and pleasing debuts from first time Tarantino collaborators (Goggins), who manage to survive the film’s pitfalls of elaborate bigotry under the guise of period epithets, and at times unimaginative (albeit amusingly graphic) violence.

The Hateful Eight is certainly one of Tarantino’s best, an exceptional addition to his catalog, but just like the other films in Tarantino’s collection, the film itself is not for the soft minded or the conflict averse. All in all, The Hateful Eight is Tarantino’s most stylized and hellacious effort to date, that not only degrades the characters within the film, but will surely test the tolerance of those who go to see it just the same.

David Bowie Avoids Complacency, Continues to Push Boundaries on Bizarre '★' ('Blackstar')

The concept of fluidity is not necessarily a notion an artist would aim to procure, much less at the risk of their own legacy. However, if there ever was an artist so poised, so precise, and so deft to continually morph and adapt with a sort of genre androgyny, it would certainly be David Bowie. Each release throughout Ziggy Stardust’s career is uniformly unique - each record adopting aspects of various influences throughout, most of which are equally ambitious and ambiguous, but always maintaining Bowie’s mystical hallmarks. 

Bowie’s newest addition to his compendium is ★ (stylized, but technically Blackstar, which is what the writer shall reference for the rest of the article), an ambitious collection of jazz leaning tracks that continue Bowie’s half century long career of genre fluidity that continues his status as one of the true icons of rock music, not necessarily for a “classic” rock sound, but rather the intrepidity to stretch the confines and concepts that rock music once resided within. On Blackstar, Bowie continues to explore new sonic landscapes, but this time, rather than challenging conceptions of rock, Bowie virtually spurns what we know of rock music altogether.

Released three years after 2013’s The Next Day, which followed an unsettlingly long period of Bowie-less music, Blackstar enlists New York jazz musician Donny McCaslin and his group of acclaimed players (Ben Monder, Jason Linder, Tim Lefebvre, and Mark Guiliana) to create one of the most unnerving Bowie albums to date. Blackstar’s incorporation of dark jazz flair with undertones of death, savagery, and detachment is more defined than past efforts.

Bowie being who he is, a number of devout fans have spent considerable time trying to uncover the cryptic themes within the tracks, with most being no closer to meaning than before, but others are quite apparent and only further confused by those closest to Bowie.

The title track, “Blackstar” seems like a direct reference to the rise of ISIS and is supported by Donny McCaslin, with the continual allusion to a “solitary candle.” Such a subject matter would not be out of the realm of possibility for Bowie, who has seemed to have a morbid fascination with despicable characters, a la Big Brother, President Joe and his murderous Saviour Machine, and Thomas Newton on previous projects. Another interesting aspect of “Blackstar” is track’s run time, which stands at nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds; it had been even longer, but when Bowie and his cohorts found out that iTunes did not place songs longer than ten minutes up for individual sale, they shaved time with two seconds to spare.

Despite Blackstar’s considerably darker themes, it also shares an air of more lyrical playfulness from Bowie. Second track, “Tis a Pity She Was a Whore,” in name alone is playful and about as “out there” as any in recent memory. The track opens with a heavy drum and bass lead and horns whirling every which way, before Bowie opens with the delightful “Man, she punched me like a dude / Hold your mad hands / I cried,” setting a disparate scene for Bowie’s narrative. The track moves at a rattling pace, leaving an unstable scene of uncertainty whether or not the narrator had been robbed by the titular “whore” or not. Bowie certainly spares every outside detail in order to enhance the strange nature of the song.

“Lazarus” is the second Blackstar single, as well as the eponymous title of Bowie’s recent Off-Broadway hit, starring Michael C. Hall of Dexter television fame. “Lazarus” unsettles throughout, never quite reaching a point of comfort for the listener or the track’s protagonist, who had experienced ascension into “king-like” living in New York, but ultimately yearns for freedom from the confines of the life being presently led. The track was performed by Michael C. Hall on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, in which Hall sang Bowie’s lyrics “nothing left to lose,” which undoubtedly doubled the meaning, with Bowie’s notable absence and acknowledgement that being a 69 year old pop-icon, there was hardly any way his legacy could be sullied.

Overall, Blackstar is one of Bowie’s most audacious of undertakings, an effort that could potentially be with great consequence, but because of such risks being as they are; Bowie only elevates and exceeds expectation to meet the task at hand. But then again, anyone ever really doubted any aspect of Bowie’s work? “I Can’t Give Everything Away,” is a haunting admission that Bowie is aware that his time is reaching an end, and rather than being a single voice from one point in time, he has become a voice that spans multiple generations. Bowie is aware of his deity status in the world of music, and no matter what new direction he takes his music, the masses will not doubt it. He's virtually untouchable, unassailable entity, but not above admitting imperfection in being so.

'The Big Short' Is Smartest Movie of Year

Well, it’s happened. The man most famous for being a frequent Will Ferrell collaborator, Adam McKay, has made (arguably) the smartest movie of 2015. The Big Short is a derisive satire based on the 2010 best-selling non-fiction book of the same name, focusing on a handful of key players on Wall Street and across the country who not only predicted the inevitable housing crisis of 2008, but looked to capitalize on the looming crash quite handsomely.

McKay and Charles Randolph adapted the screenplay from the Michael Lewis’ book that chronicles the real life series of events that lead to a respective group of money managers (Steve Carell and his motley crew), investors (Christian Bale and Brad Pitt), and Wall Street types (Ryan Gosling) who looked to bet against the wildly profitable sub-prime mortgage industry. Seems like a tough sell, right? A movie that revolves around a bunch of rich white guys in their offices outsmarting all the other rich white guys sounds hardly interesting, or original (see: Gordon Gecko). That’s where the combination of McKay’s comedic prowess and ingénue along with the A-list arsenal of acting immersion lift The Big Short into unparalleled satirical standing.

The Big Short is grimly funny – opening with an uncanny (and later on, intermittent) fourth-wall break a la Wolf Of Wall Street from Ryan Gosling, whoops, in the movie he’s Jared Vennett, a hotshot Deutsche banker. Vennett takes the viewer through a brief montage on the history of the real estate, mortgage, and various other large-scale financial industries in a fun and expository manner. Despite the light and playful nature of Vennett’s historical run down, the overall sardonic tone is established, allowing the film to become much darker and fuel itself with clever wit and rage.

The players introduced in Vennett’s expository homily are as follows: all around acting chameleon Christian Bale as the glass-eyed, hermitic M.D. turned San Jose investing consultant with a penchant for drumming, Michael Burry, Steve Carell as the New York corporation-condemning neurotic misanthrope Michael Baum and his troupe of equally maladjusted money managers (one of the films truly unexpected highlights) portrayed by Hamish Linklater, Rafe Spall, and Jeremy Strong. Brad Pitt not only stars as Ben Rickert, a despondent Wall Street banker turned political activist/guiding light to a couple young gunners from Denver (Finn Wittrock and John Magaro), but also lends a hand as a producer on the film. Finally, the film’s pseudo narrator, docent, fit fanatic, Jordan Belfort-lite, antagonistic protagonist, resident “burn” distributor, Jared Vennett, played by Ryan Gosling in a jerry curl.

Due to the magnificent People magazine fodder the exceptional cast actually is, the film takes a couple beats to fully commit to the characters within the story. That being said, Bale disappears into Burry’s anti-social, atypical nature seamlessly almost instantaneously, with Carell’s well-intentioned, yet cynical portrayal of Michael Baum not far behind.

Rather than give a full recount of the film’s synopsis, the reader may be better served with focuses on the unique and clever aspects of the film instead. The film operates in multiple parts - documentary, farce, drama, satire, etc. – with each aspect being highlighted in various capacities. Gosling’s Vennett serves as a wonderful narrator for the more historical, expository asides, while Carell and Bale offer more dramatic performances within the film. Pitt’s role in the film is mostly ancillary, but provides a lens that inevitably makes the viewer question the protagonists’ moral standing as a whole.

The A-list cast certainly carries the film, but perhaps the most notable aspect of the film as a whole is the manner of which complex real estate and mortgage terms are explained in layman’s terms by the likes of Margot Robbie, Anthony Bourdain, Richard Thaler, and Selena Gomez.  When key terms and complex mortgage phrases are introduced, Gosling inevitably throws a quick cut to a cameo. Each cameo is essentially an informational vignette that gives both a humorous and informative explanation of the term. Again, instead of reproducing each individual informative vignette, just know that one involves Margot Robbie in a bathtub (eerily similar to Wolf of Wall Street), Anthony Bourdain in a kitchen, and arguably the best of the three, economist Richard Thaler and pop star Selena Gomez explaining synthetic CDO’s (Collateralized Debt Obligations) and the “Hot Hand Fallacy” over a game of blackjack.

The Big Short is the smartest movie in 2015. It’s sharp, divisive, engaging, and humorous, without sacrificing any ounce of information in the name of Hollywood dramatics. It is a movie that focuses on subprime loans, something so complex, even the banks that doled them out failed to fully grasp exactly what they entailed. McKay manages to take a bewildering piece in history and craft it into a digestible package that does not sacrifice any wit or edge so audiences can understand more clearly. The Big Short observes and utilizes the events (24-hour celebrity news cycle) that obfuscated the eventual recession, and in turn illuminates the situation so viewers can make their own decisions on what went wrong, and who (if anyone) is to blame.

From the outrageous mind of director Adam Mckay comes THE BIG SHORT. Starring Christian Bale, Steve Carell, Ryan Gosling and Brad Pitt, in theaters Christmas. When four outsiders saw what the big banks, media and government refused to, the global collapse of the economy, they had an idea: The Big Short.

Cage the Elephant's 'Tell Me I'm Pretty' Earns the Request

What does a band do when their most successful album to date generates just as much inner turmoil as it does critical acclaim? In the case of Cage the Elephant and their 2013 release, Melophobia, the answer is simple – blow things up. After a run of three insatiably frenetic exercises in pseudo-punk rock anxiety, a spectacular reputation as live performers, major label ascension with RCA, and an eventual Grammy nomination for Melophobia, Cage the Elephant had reached an impasse.

The extensive touring and massively unanticipated (yet much deserved) reception of Melophobia led to friction within the band. Guitarist Brad Schultz called the experience "a living hell,” so much so, that it culminated with lead guitarist Lincoln Parrish’s eventual departure in December of 2013. Parrish, who had been a part of Cage the Elephant since age 16 in 2006, had not foreseen the rapid growth and success of the group, stating that his ultimate goal was to “be a producer before anything else.” Nick Bockarth, filled Parrish’s void for the remaining Melophobia tour stops supporting The Black Keys and Foals, which stretched well into 2014.

During the Kentucky rockers’ run with The Black Keys, Schultz and Black Keys lead man/Nashville super-producer Dan Auerbach tossed around ideas for some new Cage songs, and long story short, the rock n’ roll salons led to a collaborative relationship between the two which ultimately led to the creation of this fourth studio record, Tell Me I’m Pretty.  

Opener “Cry Baby” is a jolt to the system; cleaner and brighter than former Cage openers, the twinges of Brit-pop throw TMIP into uncharted territory. "Trouble" is a deceptively wistful tale of woe spun over breezy woos just begging to be sung along to, complete with a lyrical nod to their magnum opus with "You know what they say / Yeah the wicked get no rest," while the other single “Mess Around” pairs fuzzy riffs with infectious poppy hooks, perfectly wrapping up the band's dirtier feel in a tight 3 minute package. Auerbach himself even provides the guitar solo, though it would be unfair to automatically dismiss this effort as Black Keys fodder.

While Auerbach’s association with TMIP may trigger an automatic assumption that the album as a whole would be filled with Black Keys-isms, that assumption overlooks how Cage the Elephant’s greatest mores and themes are present throughout the album, though ever-evolving. From Matt Schultz’s familiar wailing on “Sweetie Little Jean" to the stark Rolling Stones-esque rollercoaster that is “Cold Cold Cold," it heavily mixes their brand of manic bravado with sixties rock n’ roll pop whimsy. 

TMIP artfully toes the line between alternative and radio-ready, being much more direct and polished than records past, though this is more a testament to the maturation of Matt Schultz’s lyrical and melodic presence, rather than the involvement of a ubiquitous rock personality. Where previous Auerbach collaborations did fall victim to this (Lana Del Rey), TMIP comes off as entirely a product of the group’s effort.

Tell Me I’m Pretty is also arguably Cage the Elephant’s best recorded album to date, and though it does have variances from what’s become their “sound,” there’s really no reason to fault the band for wanting to expand their sonic catalog. Should they not want to alter the sound and design of previous efforts that left the group frictional and dejected? What Cage the Elephant has created on Tell Me I'm Pretty is an album that will inevitably strengthen the group’s future efforts, rather than being shackled to a particular vibe or genre. It may not shatter with the same chaotic dynamism along the way, but it does manage to be, well, pretty.

King Krule No More, Meet Archy Marshall on 'A New Place 2 Drown'

Zoo Kid, DJ JD Sports, Edgar the Beatmaker, King Krule – all pseudonyms of one Archy Ivan Marshall, who chose to spurn his most recent moniker (King Krule) in exchange for his given name on his most recent release, A New Place 2 Drown.

Before delving into Marshall’s most recent, eponymous effort, it may serve to understand the journey that culminated with ANP2D. A peculiar character, Marshall grew up in a divided working class home in Peckham, England. Marshall attests that he was subjected to “a lot of weird shit during his [childhood].” The combination of divorced parents, “weird shit,” and sleepless nights spent listening to Pixies and the Libertines eventually inspired Marshall to create these “soundscapes.” 

In 2010, Marshall revealed himself to the world as Zoo Kid, with his beguiling baritone and doom jazz guitar riffs on the track “Out Getting Ribs.” Almost immediately, Marshall was (uninspiringly) heralded as an artist far beyond his years, with additional fuel coming under his new moniker, King Krule, and a similarly titled EP in 2011. Shortly thereafter, Marshall released his first official full-length record, 6 Feet Beneath the Moon, in 2013 through XL. The album was met with critical acclaim, as well as lauded by Beyonce and Willow Smith (who covered “Easy Easy” in 2014), then Marshall (and King Krule) effectively disappeared, with the exception the occasional video here and there (“A Lizard State” in 2014).

Keeping with the disparate nature of his music, Marshall’s music and subsequent radio silence were unfamiliar, uncharted, and uncomfortable. Had early success frightened the divergent talent? Or was Marshall’s solitary and uncommunicative nature caused music media to purposefully ignore him?

All theories of Marshall’s activities and practices were ultimately laid to rest in late 2015, when Archy Marshall’s newest effort under his own name, A New Place 2 Drown was (fittingly) announced with little to no enthusiasm from Marshall himself, as well as the an accompanying media book and short film. News trickled out that not only had Marshall begun to explore new art forms, but he had done so with his brother no less, indicating that ANP2D was ultimately a collaborative effort.

In short, ANP2D is an endeavor unfamiliar to typical Archy Marshall/King Krule process – the focus is not necessarily on the music, but rather the literary companion. 208 pages long, the book features artwork, poems, and photographs curated by Marshall’s brother, Jack. Archy attests that the book “is a scrapbook of [his relationship with his brother] and how we see the world.” The film illuminates the aforementioned relationship between the two Marshalls, exploring their creative processes in a bleak slice of life, surrealist lens.

The multi media explorations in the mundane may be Marshall breaking new ground, but the 37 minutes of musical accompaniment is a continuation of King Krule. Marshall’s music has always explored the mundane and the desolate, in service of creating his previously mentioned soundscapes, which ANP2D certainly achieves. Marshall harnesses the lonesome nature of King Krule tracks past, and layers it atop the despondence that from 90’s hip hop.

ANP2D opens with “Any God of Yours,” an instrumental dirge that allows Marshall to impress his honed production growth upon the listener. The growth is a departure from 6 Feet Beneath the Moon, with Marshall altogether spurning the doom jazz/stark-hop sound of Krule for more pure hip-hop. Tracks like “Swell” and “Arise Dear Brother” are almost indiscernible at certain points when it comes to Marhsall’s lyrical presentation, though the mumbled delivery only heightens the soundscape immersion.

The cleanup track “Ammi Ammi” is a melodramatic expression of Marshall’s life in the dingy sides of town, with cool crooning from Jamie Isaac supplanting Marshall on the hooks. “Ammi Ammi” and “Buffed Sky” elevate ANP2D into more distinctive territory, giving glimmers of an overarching theme – something that was obfuscated in previous efforts.

ANP2D serves as the most direct platform of the multi-media myriad into Marshall’s personal exploration and subsequent growth over the past two years, vaguely referencing lessons learned (“Sex With Nobody”) and new production practices (the sleepy 808s on “Eye’s Drift” and “New Builds”), but at certain moments, Marshall gets lost in the soundscape mentality. Closing track “Thames Water” falls victim to the occasional cliché ("girl this place is evil") and some rather curious multi-layered vocal work, eventually segueing into an almost entirely new track. 

It would be a disservice to say that the music of ANP2D is an afterthought, though the accompanying book and short film may indicate that somewhere down the line music may take a back seat to Marshall’s artistic process. Luckily, A New Place 2 Drown offers enough of the genre bending familiarity of King Krule and the new working class grit and grind of Archy Marshall who finds beauty in the mundane, specifically the purposefully mundane work of his brother. ANP2D offers a glimpse into Marshall’s more contemporary perspective and creative outlook, which may prove to be more transcendent as Archy Marshall than King Krule could have ever been.

Troye Sivan Offers Voice to a Generation on Blue Neighbourhood

The YouTube Generation may have finally found its voice, and thank goodness it’s not PewDiePie. Enter Troye Sivan – the twenty-year-old singer/songwriter/actor – who has been in the hearts and minds of millions of YouTube subscribers ever since he came out as gay in an incredibly heartfelt video in 2013.

Fully disclosed and unfettered from public speculation, Sivan released two critically acclaimed and chart topping EPs, Wild andTRXYE. Thanks in large part to the success of the two EPs as well as social bumps from the likes of Taylor Swift (“GO @troyesivan WILD IS STUNNING AND AWESOME…”), Adele (On Sivan covering “Hello” – “I burst into tears”), and Sam Smith (Sivan’s cool timbre “Does things to [his] body.”), Sivan dropped his first full-length release, Blue Neighbourhood, on December 4th, through EMI Music Australia and Capitol.  

Blue Neighbourhood opens with an eponymous carryover from Sivan’s second EP, WILD. A heavy-hitting single masquerading as a leadoff track, “WILD” sounds reminiscent of a Lorde B-side, but with a more vivacious outlook – “Kissing up on fences and up on walls / On the way home / I guess its all working now…” Sivan’s unwrinkled vocals are a product of the upcoming generation of pop stars – minimally touched vocals, surrounded by airtight production allowing for more focus on overall tone versus individual tracks.

“WILD” also kicks off Sivan’s three part music video narrative of the relationship between two young boys as they experience tragedy, discovery, lust, loss, and melancholy throughout their lives. Second track on the album (and video number two), “FOOLS,” is yet another WILD EP holdover, though arguably the strongest of the three older tracks. “FOOLS,” expresses a traumatic realization of falling hard in a relationship, as well as a parallel to Sivan’s newfound fame “I need time to replace what I gave away / My hopes they are high / I must keep them small.”

Blue Neighbourhood is a different sort of debut than that of Sivan’s other pop counterparts. His coming out video in 2013 allowed for his debut to not be overanalyzed with focus on subject matter and who or what certain songs may be addressing. Instead, it allows for Sivan to comment directly and honestly on subjects that concern him the most, such as “HEAVEN,” featuring Betty Who. The track is one of the more ballad-leaning songs on Blue Neighbourhood, which allows it to operate as the true core of the record. It connects to the fundamental struggles of Sivan’s generation, fear of not attaining certain levels of acclaim, success, fulfillment, happiness, etc. In short, it asserts that everyone has enters their own “Blue Neighbourhood” at one point or another. What is a “Blue Neighbourhood” exactly? Sivan never really quite explains, but the YouTube generation anthem assuages any anxiety that his peers may succumb to.

In short, Blue Neighbourhood, is certainly a successful debut (it hopped to No. 1 on iTunes following the launch of its pre-order), but it still runs into pitfalls of exhibiting the extent of his vulnerability in sex on “BITE” and the struggle for normalcy while juggling fame on the predictably named “COOL,” but overall, Sivan shows that he holds more promise than other pop artists with a command of his narrative and voice. While Blue Neighbourhood is solid, and being propelled by millions of young Sivanians (perhaps a bit of a stretch), there is still room for Sivan to expand upon his narratives and mature as an artist and songwriter. 

'Brooklyn' Is a Subtly Sweet Oscar Contender

Oscar season is upon us, and so comes the more unique (Anamolisa), unnerving (The Revenant), and unapologetic (The Danish Girl) film releases from studios both large and small, all in hopes of gaining more fiscal and critical glory within Hollywood.

One of the earliest released, small(er) budget Oscar contenders, Brooklyn, is really none of the aforementioned descriptors; if anything it is unassuming – a film that offers no real cultural dissonance, dialogue, or distress – and therein lies the film’s true beauty. It is soft, sweet, thoughtful and tender.   

Brooklyn (adapted from the 2009 Colm Tóibín novel) is a period piece chronicling a young Irish girl, Eilis Lacey (Saoirse Ronan), and her journey emigrating from Ireland to the United States, and assimilating into American society in the early 1950s.

At its core, Brookyln is a coming of age story, in which Eilis is faced with a variety of obstacles, modest in nature, but altogether riveting with their realism. The subtle reality of Ronan’s performance offers much more depth than the average coming of age story:

We witness Eilis learning (the hard way) how to operate on an trans-Atlantic voyage – through a particularly graphic bout of food poisoning mixed with sea sickness, in what will surely be one of the more graphic Oscar-worthy performances in years past.  

Ronan deftly presents courting in 1952 Brooklyn with the same subtle anxiety and palpable emotion not uncommon in today’s dating scene - at a dance put on by the local church, Eilis eventually meets her husband to be, Tony Fiorello (Emory Cohen). Tony, an Italian boy, shows much more interest than Eilis, but chips away at her hardened exterior in hopes of one day winning her heart. They meet every night to walk home from Eilis’ night classes at Brooklyn College, where she studies to become a bookkeeper. Their exchanges become more intimate and earnest, talking about raising their kids to be Brooklyn Dodger fans, as Tony helps Eilis find a sense of belonging in America.

Just when it seems that Eilis has finally carved herself a place in Brooklyn, and life was beginning to look up, there is wretched moment in the film’s third act. Eilis, still working at Bartocci’s Department Store, is informed by Father Flood (Jim Broadbent) and Miss Fortini (Jessica Pare) that her biggest supporter and beloved older sister, Rose (Fiona Glascott), who gave up the chance of a life of her own in order for Eilis to chart a path to America, has died.

Eilis’ sister’s death catalyzes the film’s ultimate dilemma. Being called back to Ireland to put her sister to rest, familiar faces come back with great reverence and regard for the Americanized Eilis, including one Mr. Jim Farrell (continuing an already impressive year for Domhnall Gleeson). For the rest of the film, Eilis is tasked with choosing which life suits her best, framed by delicate moments of painstaking decisions between the familiarity of home or her responsibility for her life lead in America.

More understated in tone than its source material, screenwriter Nick Hornsby and director John Crowley masterfully transport an already charming story to screen in a hyperrealistic manner. Dramatically speaking, the conflict in the film moves at a glacial pace, but therein lies one of the greatest aspects of Brooklyn – the film reflects the subtlety of charting one’s own course in life. An film that is sure to be a career defining moment for Saoirse Ronan, as well as an Academy Awards 2016 darkhorse – Brooklyn reminds us that there is no debt to one’s past, and the greatest moments in life are not owed to others, but rather, shared.

Freddie Gibbs Brings His Name Into the Limelight on 'Shadow of Doubt'

Not even a year removed from joining forces with 808 doyen Madlib to create one of 2014’s best collaborative efforts, Piñata, rapper Freddie Gibbs has found time to drop two EPs and his most recent full length effort, Shadow of Doubt. One of the more underrated and tireless lyricists on the circuit today, the Gary, Indiana native son has done nothing but further amalgamate his legacy as rap’s most unheralded hero.

Shadow of Doubt is a far cry from the dynamic duet that was Piñata, with Gibbs exchanging Madlib’s singular break beats and samples for multi-producer packaging, spanning the hip-hop spectrum. In turn, the variety allows Gibbs to flex his lyrical musings in an array of fashions – some brimming with machismo (“Forever and a Day”), salty dog syndrome (“Freddie Gordy”), and a possibly self-narrating jilted lover opining over past oblivion (“Careless”). The frenetic emotional energy asserts Gibbs’ ability to separate Shadow of Doubt from any past bodies of work, further cementing the underestimated prowess of his flow.

Gibbs has for some time now been considered one of the more hawkish of his rap compatriots – at times more brute lyrical force than emotional finesse - with such a precedent being torn down by one of Shadow of Doubt’s most powerful tracks, “Insecurities.” Disarming self-awareness laced with an almost regretful tone – “I was ready for whatever, man / I remember I was selling things / I let it go” - allows for Gibbs to present an offertory that is almost unbecoming, had it not been masterfully paced by Gibbs’ classic cadence. 

Another highlight of Shadow of Doubt is the Gibbs’ choice of collaborators. He calls upon his rap contemporaries; take “10 Times,” a more modern approach to hip-hop, ranging from the hazy mediations from Gucci to flipping the of the script to Bay Area legend E-40, who offers one of the more humorous non-Gibb verses on Shadow of Doubt: “Lifestyle, ribbit, ribbit / That’s what I’m going to use when I stick it / She bad, she fat / She gon’ get a ticket / Thicker than a buttermilk biscuit…”

Laughable lyricism aside, Gibbs’ choice to feature grizzled veterans of the game allow not only for the guest MCs to shine, but help heighten Gibbs’ tonal dexterity. “Extradite,” perhaps the album’s strongest feature track, presents Gibbs commenting on the peculiar state of rap and hip-hop, at times jeering at his younger peers’ inability to remain relevant as long as someone of his own caliber. The feature verse, deftly performed by Black Thought of The Roots fame, is the album’s most politically fused, with commentary on recent race tensions and the like, all being juxtaposed by a smooth jazz beat.

Shadow of Doubt is a record that is unlikely to shift cultural dialogue or work its way into the zeitgeist, but that has never been Gibbs’ intentions. Shadow of Doubt acts simply, a rap manifesto of MC’s continual challenges to the rap game, with little to no pushback. If rap has become more emotionally deft, then it has abandoned one of its core principals – lyrical thought to shift the perspective of those who will listen. Modern rap can at times be vapid and sensitive, but not for Gibbs. Shadow of Doubt is an assertion that Gibbs is the only true aggressor who remains in the game.

Jadakiss Affirms His Legacy on 'Top 5 Dead Or Alive'

The Internet’s pervasive nature has helped society in countless ways. One “helpful” new bit of knowledge is that we as human beings seem to love lists. People waste countless hours insouciantly arguing and spewing vitriol in defense of their beliefs on which grumpy cat has the funniest ugly Christmas sweater (I died when I saw #8!!!).

So as one might imagine when Billboard released their “10 Greatest Rappers of All Time” in early November, there were the given masses that disagreed with how certain “locks” were left off the list. Granted, there was sure to have been plenty of politicking amongst the Billboard staff on which rapper included might cause the most pushback amongst readers (looking at you Kendrick), but perhaps the publication’s biggest blunder was the exclusion of the original Ruff Ryder of hip hop, Jadakiss.

Whether or not Jadakiss had any actual knowledge of Billboard’s inconsiderate omission of his body of work to the list is certainly in question. Luckily, Jada has taken it upon himself to inform the masses that there’s no need for his inclusion in a “Top 10” article because he’s released his self-asserting and all-time affirming, Top 5 Dead or Alive.

T5DOA serves as Jada’s fourth solo album, and his first since 2009’s The Last Kiss, though Jada has released a mixtape and a handful of singles during his six-year major release hiatus. After little to no prodding from 105.1 FM’s The Breakfast Club, Jada claimed that T5DOA was “something to enjoy your holiday festivities, your Thanksgiving, your Black Friday shopping, get into your Christmas feeling… all the way to Easter.” Jada continues to share his inspiration in the interview, stating that his inspiration for the album came stemmed from his time in the '90s, coming up with Notorious B.I.G, Nas, Eminem, and the fact that those “greats” had shown him proper respect as peers.  

Jadakiss showcases his verbal versatility on T5DOA, with little to no need for the theatrics and histrionics purveyed by today’s other popular hip-hop artists. The first track, “First 48,” is a beautiful narrative from an emcee opining about his hip hop prowess with lines like “They love to hear the don speak / That’s because the dialogue ain’t within arm’s reach,” further asserting his place on the Mount Rushmore of rappers.

T5DOA is set up like an old-school hip-hop record, with skits popping up intermittently throughout, but features the brazen bravado that’s become so popularized by the likes of Drake and Kanye West. The album is a departure for Jada, with some particularly uncharacteristic beats that force Jada to stretch his lyrical musings in more involved manners. “You Can See,” featuring Future is equal parts trap music and classic Jada bars that carries one of the original Ruff Ryders into the modern age of hip-hop.

The features on T5DOA further cement Jadakiss’ versatile foray into the modern hip-hop canon. Artists like Future, Diddy, Lil Wayne, Wiz Khalifa, Styles P, and Jeezy seem to span the spectrum of 2000s hip-hop standards, with Jada continually bringing the fire. Each feature shows some sort of new vein of Jada’s classic flow and cadences, “Ain’t Nothin’ New” feels more like a Ne-Yo or Nipsey Hustle track that happens to feature Jadakiss, rather than 48 bars from Jada with a harried chorus thrown together by the other two.

Ruff Ryder fans can rejoice as well, though there is no full-blown reunion track, Styles P and Sheek Louch both feature on the album. “Synergy” featuring Styles P is one of the albums throwback tracks, with Jada and P exchanging verbal couplets over a Just Blaze beat. “Realest in the Game,” featuring Young Buck and Sheek Louch is perhaps the most aggressive track on the album, with Buck, Sheek, and Jada all assessing their streetwise power; think 2005 G-Unit (Young Buck).

Granted, Jadakiss has never quite experienced the same Top 40 success as his other rap counterparts, but he always managed to carve out his own sort of “street life trepidations” and was never really challenged. That is not the case in T5DOA. Jadakiss may be the closest thing to a “rapper’s rapper,” and T5DOA serves as Jada’s self-celebratory, cocky assertion of his staying power in the rap game, having managed to come out with another “banger” after six years of top line silence.