… ”Thy hand, Belinda” gets stuck in your head for the rest of the day whenever an online login site suggests that you use the function ”Remember me”.

I’d like to wish my readers a very Merry Christmas! You are the best readers in the whole world, and I hope you’ll have the happiest of holidays.

Here’s one of my favourite Christmas songs, the German traditional “Maria durch ein Dornwald ging”, as sung by a boys choir:

I was in the school choir when I was little, and we used to sing this song about the Virgin Mary who walks through a forest of thorn trees that have born no leaves in seven years. But she’s pregnant with Jesus and as she passes, roses appear on the trees. A simple, mystical little tale about the hardships of Mary and the wonder of Christmas, combined with a beauitful, medieval-harking minor-key melody. I’ve always loved it, and I hope that you will too.

In last week’s episode of Family Guy there was a wonderful moment where we saw Brian at his office (working for the Pewterschmidt family cooperation) and he had a motivational poster hanging on the wall. The poster showed a tennis ball lying in the grass and it read “Go get it, boy. Go get it.”. “I will go get it. I will!” Brian muttered to himself in deep concentration, sitting at his desk.

As you know I made a (very primitive) motivational poster for my master thesis-writing self the other week, and yesterday I decided to follow up on that one by making a series of posters to use as my desk-top background, all of them based on movie characters/scenes/quotes that I like.

I decided against using  the otherwise brilliant Motivational Poster Generator, simply because I think speech balloons went better with the pictures.

I remain well aware of the irony of the fact that making these numerous posters is an act of procrastination.

1. The Replicant Messiah Tells It Like It Is 

 

3. Even Neurotic New Yorkers Have Written their Theses 

4. The Amish Are Witnesses to My Procrastination

5. Rhett Butler Is No Gentleman…

(It is of course a well-known fact that speech balloons were written exclusively in italics by the time of the American civil war, so I had to change the font for this one)

6. I’m Free to Procrastinate, But Indiana Jones Will Hate Me For It

How awesome is the music in the introduction to the third act of Tannhäuser?

Way awesome, if you ask me. The anticipation of the Pilgrim’s Choir at 2:01 sends chills down my spine. And that whole crescendo build-up from 4:11 and up until the climax at 4:45? Oh, man. Goose pimples!

The Empire cares about the environment! And they’re adamant about not harming it while blowing up random planets. That does warm the heart, does it not?

(Ah, yes. Don’t you just love this blog? While other blogs deliver news from the world and interesting perspectives on current events, like the Climate Conference that’s taking place in my home city Copenhagen right now, At the Lighthouse happily brings you obscure and completely irrelevant reviews of random 80s or 90s movie soundtracks.)

Urged on by my new-found love for Harrison Ford I finally watched Blade Runner for the first time about a month ago, the director’s Final Cut version. A brilliant movie, but I’m not going to review it, at least not now, partly because I think I’d need to watch it again in order to take it all in, partly because I am not convinced that I have anything original to say about it. Be that as it may, one thing that I noticed upon my first viewing was that the movie has an incredible soundtrack, and I just bought it on iTunes this week.

iTunes is such a dangerous thing by the way, from a financial perspective. Remember back in the 90s when you had to go all the way down to a music store if you wanted to buy, say, the new The Verve album? And by the time you were half-way down there, you were already so tired of “Bittersweet Symphony” that you just gave it up and went into a kiosk and bought one of those brand new super-hip Pink Grape Fantas to quench your post-Berlin Wall/pre-9-11 thirst. So much money was saved that way. Whereas today you can buy music with just a click or two on iTunes, and it is inevitable that you end up doing quite a few impulse purchases.

The Blade Runner soundtrack by Vangelis was such an impulse purchase, but it’s not one that I’m likely to regret. It’s simply a fantastic soundtrack, and I’ve been listening to it all week. And this is where I run into my usual trouble because I’m not a professional musician nor do I have any kind of degree in music, so it’s hard for me to find the right terms with which to express my enthusiasm about the different tracks. But I’ll try my best and add youtube examples to illustrate my points, and if you’re more knowledgable than I about these things, raise your voice in the comments – I’d be happy to hear what you have to say about it.

I think my favourite track will have to be “Rachael’s Song”:

Breathtaking. Rachael is an extremely interesting character because she (SPOILER ALERT!!1!!) is of course a replicant, except she doesn’t know it, because she’s been given emotions that supply her with memories of a past that isn’t actually hers. That makes her part of the philosophical/theological arc of the movie which deals with the urgent question: What makes a human being human? And it places Rachael in an intriguing grey area, character-wise. As an audience we feel distanced from her upon first learning of her being a replicant, a sentiment that is supported by her flawless, icy appearance in the first few scenes that we see her in. But this image of her is gradually changed as her character finds out about her true identity, and it’s hard not to be moved by her subtle anguish in the scene where Deckard sets her straight. I love the startlingly organic feel of the imagery in this scene, by the way:

Deckard: Remember when you were six? You and your brother snuck into an empty building through a basement window. You were going to play doctor. He showed you his, but when it got to be your turn you chickened and ran; you remember that? You ever tell anybody that? Your mother, Tyrell, anybody? Remember the spider that lived outside your window? Orange body, green legs. Watched her build a web all summer, then one day there’s a big egg in it. The egg hatched…
Rachael: The egg hatched…
Deckard: Yeah…
Rachael: …and a hundred baby spiders came out… and they ate her.
Deckard: Implants. Those aren’t your memories, they’re somebody else’s. They’re Tyrell’s niece’s. 

The horror of seeing biology turn on itself as a spider mother is devoured by her own offspring, the shame of a childhood game of Doctor gone awry – how could memories of such horrifying tangibility, of such intimacy, possibly belong to a replicant? It’s easy to understand how Rachael could have been fooled.

And I think that Vangelis has managed to capture this idea in his music perfectly in “Rachael’s Song”. The vocal, sung by Mary Hopkin, is luringly beautiful, like a mermaid’s or a sirene’s song, but there’s a dominant sense of something fragile, or vulnerable in the dripping sound of the accompaniment, like something melting away, or like raindrops falling – the latter fitting in well with the rain motif that is used throughout the movie.

I also really like the “Love Theme”, which I believe is the most famous part of the soundtrack. Here it is, in a version that also shows the images from the scene, where the theme is used:

The smoldering saxophone lends to the music a jazz-like vibe that perhaps serves to tie the movie in with the film noir genre that it’s a part of, but there’s also a xylophone-like sound that sounds beautifully mechanical, like a child’s music box. And then there’s an interesting development in the music around 3:10 into the track. As the images in the youtube video will show, it’s not an idyllic or uncomplicated love scene that this theme accompanies: When Deckard first attempts to kiss Rachael she resists, so he follows her, throws her up against the wall and the following conversation ensues:

Deckard: Say “Kiss me”.
Rachael: I can’t… rely on…
Deckard: Say “Kiss me”.
Rachael: Kiss me.
Deckard: I want you
Rachael: I want you.
Deckard: Again
Rachael: I want you.
[pauses]
Rachael: Put your hands on me.

The perils of this strange human being (or is he??)/replicant relationship are brilliantly pinpointed in these few lines, as is, I would say, Deckard’s character who at this time still has a lot to learn about what it means to be a person. He has learned a lot more by the time of the last scene of the movie when he tenderly kisses Rachael and asks her “Do you love me? (…) Do you trust me?”´. But his acceptance of her is immanent early on in this scene as well, as Deckard listens while Rachael plays the piano:

Deckard: I dreamt music.
Rachael: I didn’t know if I could play. I’m remembering lessons. I don’t know if it’s me, or Tyrell’s niece.
Deckard: You play beautifully.

In a different end of the spectre, there’s “Tales of the Future”. This track and the track ”Damask Rose” make me nostalgic for Syria, and they also tie in with the movie’s theme of cultural melting pot (the images of the movies showing us a future L.A. that’s culturally far from the mostly western city that we know it to be today):

Another great track is “Blade Runner (End Title)”:

The allegro tempo suits an otherwise very lento soundtrack, and the streamlined sounds of it do justice to the futuristic thriller that this movie (also) is. I also like the simple, sinister melody, that’s repeated over and over again, with its inclining notes. It’s hard to believe that this is the end credit music for a movie that originally had that ridiculous happy ending (forced on the movie by the producers who thought this would make the movie more audience-friendly):

The voice-over is also terrible. Harrison Ford reportedly despised the voice-overs, so maybe this accounts for his uninspired delivery of them, or maybe Ford simply isn’t a great narrator. In either case, if you haven’t yet seen the movie, make sure you see the Final Cut version, without the forced happy ending and the voice-over. It really is the only way to go.

The last song on the soundtrack is not the “End Titles” one – they’ve given the last word to the character of Batty, who arguably serves as a kind of replicant Christ figure in the story. The track is called “Tears in the Rain”, inspired by Batty’s beautiful final line:

Batty: I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I’ve watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain. Time to die.

This last line of Batty’s is actually included in the sountrack at the beginning of “Tears in Rain”. They do the same thing on the first three tracks (“Main Titles”, “Blush Response”, and “Wait for Me”), which is actually my sole complaint about the soundtrack. The added dialogue feels a little out of place in these first three tracks and subtracts slightly from my enjoyment of the music. However, Batty’s line on “Tears in Rain” is so poetically written and so musically delivered by actor Rutger Hauer that it actually works really well on this song. Or so I think, but judge for yourselves:

Being the opera nerd that I am, I was very curious about just what exactly the “Tannhäuser Gate” is. Alas, Wikipedia informed me that it is simply an “unexplained fictional name”. But then I guess it’s more alluring this way; now I get to use my imagination to come up with an explanation of my own. I think I’m going to imagine that it’s a giant space portal erected in the future and named after Wagner’s opera, mainly because it is positioned in such a way that it relates in some manner to the Evening Star, which is of course Venus, who was Tannhäuser’s mistress. Yeah.

Anyway, there are several more beautiful tracks on the soundtrack (like the funny, nostalgic, 30s-type “One More Kiss, Dear“, or “Blade “Runner Blues“), but I’m sure they won’t benefit from my riding them to death. So go listen to them! And also, watch the movie.

I recently watched the first season of The Wire, and oh my God, it is so good! Everyone had been telling me so, and I had been all “Yeah, yeah, but I’m not into crime stories”, but then I got hooked by the second or third episode, and now I miss the characters and can’t wait till I get my hands on the rest of the series. I’ll probably write a seperate entry about the first season here. I just don’t have the time to do that right now.

Because I’m writing my thesis. Except I tend to procrastinate. In order to hinder my own procrastination and motivate myself, I made the following image in Paint (because I am a poor sucker who still does not have Photoshop):

I’ve put it up on my desktop. And somehow it just helps to have Bunk cutting the bullshit every time I open my computer. It hasn’t taken care of the problem completely (after all I am still writing this entry right now, which is an act of procrastination in and of itself), but it has helped. I find it hard not to just write the damn thesis when Bunk is telling me to do so in an interrogation room, whilst McNulty and Greggs are looking on. Although I am not sure if Bunk would call me something as nice as ”honey”. It’s entirely possible that he would call me something decidedly nastier. But let’s leave a girl her few illusions, shall we?

I’ve been reading the excellent Film Experience Blog for a while now. Today the blog features an entry on 90s romantic comedy My Best Friend’s Wedding, and it’s a very interesting read. I saw that movie in the theatres with some friends in the ninth grade, and while I can’t say that I remember it as “the best comedy of the nineties” the way CanadaMatt does, I always enjoy it when people have praise for random pop-cultural stuff that critics usually look down their noses at, and I really appreciate CanadaMatt’s queer-theory-angle take on the film:

George’s final line…

Maybe there won’t be marriage.
Maybe there won’t be sex…
But by god there will be dancing.

…is transgressive in its acceptance and extollation of a non-normative union (for mainstream Hollywood, at least). The couple dance off happily, as the singer sings “forever and ever”. Here the gay man is not relegated to homosexual pet status, he is the leading man, the moral centre of the film, and ultimately its hero. The relationship between Julianne and George is one of equals, and the film celebrates that at its conclusion.

Also, I would like to take this opportunity to say that I think My Best Friend’s Wedding had a pretty great soundtrack. I remember borrowing the CD at the library after I’d seen the movie, and I really have to give it credit for introducing me to some of the more memorable love songs from the 20th century, some in cover versions, other in original versions. Diana King’s “I Say a Little Prayer” is probably the one that most people associate with the movie, but there’s also a wonderfully ironic version of “Wishin’ and Hopin’” that is used as the opening sequence of the film:

This track, along with the soundtrack’s cover version by Nicky Holland of “I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself”, was what introduced me to the genius that is Dusty Springfield, and I will be forever thankful for that. After hearing the Nicky Holland version I went up into the living room and found my father’s old Dusty Springfield record and left it on the grammophone for weeks and weeks afterwards. I still think that “I Just Don’t Know…” is one of the best break-up songs ever. Just listen to that crescendo in the bridge (“Like a summer rose…”). Devastating!

In the more optimistic end of the spectre, there’s also the up-beat ”Tell Him” with The Exciters with its wonderful folk-lore-ish sound and its lyrics that directly contradict the book He’s Just Not That Into You. I tend to agree with the ideas of HJNTIY, but I still love the song:

(Dude, that is one weird video, though. Bears? And lions and swans? What?)

There’s also “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again” (in a version by Mary Chapin Carpenter) which is just such an adorable song, and there’s “What the World Needs Now”, which never did much for me personally, but I suppose it’s a classic in its own right. And then there’s “The Way You Look Tonight” which Tony Bennett lends such a wonderful warmth in his version, you can almost see the candlelights and taste the dizzying red whine of a romantic dinner:

So I always thought it was a good soundtrack, but CanadaMatt’s perspective makes me like it even more. Because with his comments in mind you could say that the producers used the great love song classics from the past decade in order to tell a brand new kind of love story in the ’90s: A love story in which the hero might be a homosexual man and the heroine a loving single woman. That is a nice thought.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel

“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” is probably my favourite advent song. I love the medieval ring it has to it, the pretty melody, the rhyming of “Emmanuel” with “Israel”, and I always loved Christmas songs in minor key, because I think they tend to give a sense of something solemn and mystical that has largely been lost in the consumerist idea of Christmas that dominates the holiday in this day and age (and yes, I am aware of just how much that last sentence made me sound like a grumpy old patriarch from a play by Molière, thank you).

I went in search of a good choral version of it on youtube, but I couldn’t find any good ones. Instead I found two commendable versions by Sufjan Stevens and Belle & Sebastian, so I’ll post those instead, thus, I hope, also earning a few hipster points:

Happy advent season.

Not to be repetitive or anything, but would you look at the picture that I’ve just made my blog header image for December?

It’s an illustration by the legendary Ilon Wikland from (also legendary) Astrid Lindgren’s children’s book Titta, Madicken, det snöar (“Look, Madicken, it’s snowing!”) which was my favourite Christmas book when I was little. The illustration shows the main character of the book, Madicken’s little sister Lisabet, glumly and enviously looking on as Gustav, a little boy she knows, gets to ride on the back of a sleigh and taunts her in the process, but I think the picture is such a perfect little work of art that it works, even if you don’t know the story. The look of crestfallenness in Lisabet’s posture; her arms hanging dejectedly down her sides, her little booted feet in the snow, her full cheeks that betray a defiant pout. Versus Gustav’s triumphant, scornful mien, and the robust body of the horse, making its way through the falling snow. Absolutely lovely.