Showing posts with label 1976. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1976. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 August 2021

What's the deal with Logan's Run?

There's something almost mythical about the seminal 1976 sci-fi movie Logan's Run. While it certainly enjoys cult status in this day and age, there's an air of excitement at the mere mention of its name. People who haven't even seen it could probably tell you the plot, or might have seen parodies/references in other forms of pop culture. 

One instance that comes to mind is Friends. The episode with Denise Richards as Ross and Monica's cousin Cassie (aptly titled The One with Ross and Monica's Cousin) somewhat overstates the film's appeal. While Ross struggles with his feelings for his cousin, his internal monologue shares this thought with the audience: "She was the one who wanted to rent Logan's Run, the sexiest movie ever." While it doesn't live up to that description, there is still a lot to like. And a fair sprinkling of naff stuff too. 

I can't remember what gave me the impetus to want to watch it again, but a recent search through various streaming services bore no fruit. 

Until a few Monday nights ago. 

I saw that it had landed on Netflix as I scrolled through their new additions. I did not hesitate, he he he, and started watching it straightaway, despite the late hour. After about forty minutes, I succumbed to the wave of sleep that was lapping at my brain. But, before that happened, I was enjoying being transported into the future. For those unfamililar with the movie, the year is 2274. You're presented with a seemingly utopian future wherein its occupants live only for pleasure, inside a bunch of geodesic domes. Cut off from the outside world, and history itself, people in this city are harvested rather than born. The idea of knowing your parents or being raised by them is a foreign concept. Each child has a crystal implanted into their palm, which are called 'life-clocks'. The colour of these crystals change as the person ages, and they also dress in clothes of the same colour. 

The life clocks start flashing red as you approach your Last Day, which is the age of thirty, and you must go through the ritual of 'carrousel'. This is a ceremony where those who have arrive at their Last Day are gathered in a circle before an audience and fired upon with lasers as they fly in the air. The all-seeing/all-knowing computers that run the city say that there is a chance of being re-born, and the onlookers at the events joyously chant "Renew!" as the thirty-year-olds of their population are summarily executed. 

Those unwilling to surrender themselves to the 'carrousel' ritual try to run. This won't do. So the city's computers recruit enforcers called Sandmen to hunt and terminate these runners. The titular Logan is played by Michael York and he is the former, a twenty-six-year-old Sandman enjoying all the pleasures this world offers. For those more familiar with York's work as Basil Exposition in the Austin Powers franchise, it may be quite jarring to see him so young, but still sound so Basil. 

Anyway, the powers that be decide that there are too many people unaccounted for. It is suspected by the computers that some of the runners may have possibly escaped the city and found the mythic 'Sanctuary', a place spoken of amongst the small movement of freedom fighters as an alternative to life in the domes. To verify this, Logan is selected to find this Sanctuary, but to create a plausible cover the computer alters his life-clock crystal to flash red, suddenly removing the four years he had left. 

The scene in which this happens is my earliest memory of this movie. I would have been fairly young...possibly six or seven. Maybe as old as nine or ten. I'm unsure. But during the time I lived in Morley with my family, I would very occasionally watch a late-night movie on Channel 9 during a house party on our street. Logan's Run was one of these films, and I think I came into it about five or ten minutes after it started. There's not much that really stuck, but those words Logan nervously uttered, "Question: Do I get my four years back?" certainly did. 

I don't know why that resonated so much with my young self. Maybe it was the panic in Logan's face. Maybe the idea of having your life shortened was slightly terrifying. The age of thirty would have felt like it was years away at that time, which, let's face it, it was! But, say, if I was 10, then one year would have been one tenth of my life. Now that I'm 45, one year is just one forty-fifth. And don't they fly by?!

I also had memories of the colourful sets and bright clothing, but I'd forgotten that it was Jenny Agutter in the role of Jessica. Logan happens upon her by chance, but ends up connecting with her over the need to find Sanctuary. Peter Ustinov also has a small role, and rising star of the day Farrah Fawcett-Majors appears briefly, complete with THAT hairdo.

But, getting back to my original question, and the title of this blog, what is the deal? What is the excitement that is attached to this movie? Considering this was only a year before the release of Star Wars, the model work is incredibly obvious. When the movie cuts to the monorail transporting characters from place to place it looks like an amazing high school science project, but you can tell it's not real. Interestingly, the film won an Academy Award for its visual effects, particularly the 'carrousel' sequence, which employed the use of wide camera angles and hidden wires. But some of the other practical effects have not aged so well, particularly the robot Box that Logan and Jessica happen upon. It is nearly fifty years old, after all.

There is that thrill of escape that might appeal to many. It's not uncommon in a sci-fi flick for the supposed utopia we are presented with to actually be revealed as a sinister dystopia. So, when the characters try to escape their fate, you're immediately on board. It's like Plato's cave. Once you're exposed to the light, and recover from the shock, you can see what else is around. There's a small measure of delight in seeing Logan and Jessica try and make sense of a world that they never knew existed. They're like newborns in that regard.

One of Logan's Sandman contemporaries, Francis (played by Richard Jordan), starts following Logan and Jessica on their quest to find Sanctuary. His intent to catch them becomes another main plot point, adding a chase element to movie. So there's certainly enough of a story to keep you engaged. You want to know the fates of the characters, and you want to know if Sanctuary exists.

But is that movie all that? I think there is a lot to like here, but ultimately it had the potential to be something quite special. I've not read the novel the movie is based on, but I understand there are a few changes. One being that life ends for the people in the city domes at the age of twenty one, not thirty. Apparently the reason behind that change was from a casting point of view. It was going to be too difficult to have a large number of young teenage actor onset. I don't think it takes away from the story though. The notion of 'carrousel' is unique to movie as well. In the book, people on their Last Day are required to report to special booths that sedate and kill them. Or something, he he he. 

While it's certainly not 'the sexiest movie ever', there are some titilating scenes involving brief nudity and in one moment, implied homosexuality, quite bold for the mid-seventies. York and Agutter are certainly nice to look at, and the costumes are a little racy, but possibly not as racy if the movie was made today. 

Whatever motivated me to want to watch the movie again, I'm glad that I did. It gave me some moments of nostalgia, remembering watching some moments as a kid, and wondering how the movie ended all over again. Being a seventies sci-fi film, the ending is somewhat ambiguous, of course, but that adds to its overall kitschy appeal. I seemed to remember the music score being more electronically dominated, but that wasn't the case either. Jerry Goldsmith's work does use orchestral elements mixed with electronic noises and keyboards for scenes set inside the domes, but once the characters get outside the score employs a full orchestra. Nice idea. 

Anyway, in summing up, I would recommend watching the film with an open mind if you haven't seen it before. Enjoy the slightly wooden performances and dodgy effects. Enjoy the thrill of the escape and the possibility of a new life. There is certainly more that could be written, but in the end, it's entertaining and that's what the movies are all about.

Friday, 2 April 2021

Album of the Week - Vol. 19

Hitchhiker NEIL YOUNG (2017)
Week: Friday 26th March to Thursday 1st April
Format: Vinyl
Producer(s): Neil Young, David Briggs & John Hanlon
Track listing:
1. Pocahontas *
2. Powderfinger *
3. Captain Kennedy
4. Hawaii
5. Give Me Strength *
6. Ride My Llama
7. Hitchhiker *
8. Campaigner
9. Human Highway *
10. The Old Country Waltz

TOTAL RUNNING TIME: 33:44

Recorded in a single studio session on 11th August 1976, Neil Young's intent to release these songs as an album took 41 years to come to fruition. At the time, his record company (Reprise) baulked at the idea, and suggested full band arrangements for each of the tracks. More fool them. This is stripped to bare basics, and it's fantastic. J
ust Neil with his guitar and harmonica, except for the last song which is performed on a piano. It reminds me of Nick Drake's similarly stark Pink Moon, and both have the same fault of being too short. 

Except for Hawaii and Give Me Strength, all of these songs would appear on subsequent NY albums. The most recent occurrence being the title track, which was recorded in solo electric form for the 2010 album Le Noise, produced by Daniel Lanois. While it doesn't have the menace and growl of the newer version, this incarnation of Hitchhiker does still manage to be unnerving and imbued with small sense of paranoia. 

Three of these songs would arrive on 1979's excellent Rust Never Sleeps album, namely Pocahontas, Powderfinger and Ride My Llama. The former exists almost in the same form, but has a new vocal overdub. The latter is rerecorded before a live audience (as is the spirit of most of the album), but has a slightly different structure. Powderfinger is performed with Crazy Horse as part of the electric half of the album and is one of its highlights. To hear the song stripped down to its simplest form is quite something. As Paul Stanley once said of Kiss preparing for their 1996 MTV Unplugged performance, if a song doesn't work on an acoustic guitar, it's just a crappy song. Nothing more is needed here to express the emotion of the track. Wood, wire, skin and bones, as it were.

Human Highway was actually supposed to be the title track on CSNY's follow-up to their classic 1970 Déjà Vu album. There are even recordings of Young performing the song with Graham Nash and David Crosby in the mid seventies, but the record never materialised, despite their massive 1974 stadium tour. The world wouldn't get a second CSNY album until 1988's patchy American Dream. Human Highway was eventually recorded for Young's 1978 Comes A Time album, the closest relative to his Harvest smash. Again, hearing it here stripped of backing vocals and a band arrangement is like listening with fresh ears. I think I prefer this version to any other I've heard.

This take of Campaigner would see a release on Young's retrospective Decade in 1977, albeit with a verse removed, and Captain Kennedy shows up on 1980's Hawks & Doves as heard here. Both songs feel like they belong on this album. The former was one of a handful of unreleased songs to be included on Decade, and possibly was chosen due to its then-timely lyric stating that "even Richard Nixon has got soul". 

The album ends with The Old Country Waltz, played by Young on the piano, a far cry from the shambolic take with Crazy Horse on 1977's unfocused American Stars 'n Bars. In my mind, this is the weakest track here, but it is still very listenable, and I much prefer this version to the band one. Hawaii is probably the only other contender for that title, but again, is still quite good. When Young sings the title in the chorus his falsetto is eerie and unsettling. 

This leave us with Give Me Strength, which I really dig, and like Hawaii, I had not heard before. It's quite a nice song about loss and trying to move on, and I think it's a shame it was never revisited or released before this came out. There are a few flubs on the track, and that might be a reason it stayed in the vault, but I think it adds to the song's charm, and as result, the whole album.

The biggest travesty here is that the album stayed on the shelf for so long. It's a wonderful look into the mind of Young who was just coming out of his so-called 'Ditch trilogy' period and starting to look ahead. The deaths of Crazy Horse singer/guitarist Danny Whitten and roadie Bruce Berry affected Young profoundly, and had a cathartic effect on the music he produced following their passings. Here he seems a little dazed still, but trying to fight through the fog, and carry on. I'm so glad that he did. I first listened to this album shortly after its release via the excellent Neil Young Archives. Obtaining a copy on vinyl by the time I decided I wanted to own it proved a challenge, but good things come to those who persist!

Saturday, 23 January 2021

Station to Station

One of my favourite Bowie albums turns the same age as me today! Well, kind of. It was actually released a week before I was born. So, I've never known a world without it! He he he...but I also didn't listen to it until the early 2000s. More fool me. It's in my Bowie Top 5 for sure now! 

Except for the possibly overlong train noise at the beginning of the title track, there's not an ounce of fat on this album. Reflecting Bowie's nearly skeletal figure at the time of recording, no doubt, when he was famously surviving on a diet of red peppers, milk and copious quantities of cocaine. He has been quoted in later interviews as saying that he remembered very little of the recording sessions. 

Recorded at LA's Cherokee Studio at the end of 1975, this record would be the link between the blue-eyed soul of Young Americans and the art rock of the brilliant Low album. Interestingly, like Low, the cover of this album is also a still from The Man Who Fell to Earth film. Bowie's band included the rhythm section of drummer Dennis Davis and bassist George Murray, along with Carlos Alomar and Earl Slick on guitar. The organ and piano duties were handled by the legendary Roy Bittan, who some will know as 'The Professor'. Rounding out the combo were Warren Pearce on background vocals with the album's co-producer Harry Maslin contributing some synth, melodica and vibraphone. Bowie would also add saxophone, Mellotron and Minimoog, and some guitar work. 

The expansive 2016 box set Who Can I Be Now? (1974-1976) features two versions of this album; the 2016 remaster and the 2010 Harry Maslin mix. I own the 1999 remastered CD, so I thought I'd give the latter a listen and compare it directly with the Maslin mix, track by track. 

1. STATION TO STATION
Starting with the aforementioned train sound effect, the band kicks off on this one with a bit of noodling and feedback before settling into a slow groove, anchored by Bittan's piano strikes. It's not until after the track hits the three-minute mark that Bowie begins crooning "The return of the Thin White Duke/Throwing darts in lover's eyes..." announcing the arrival of a new character, confirming Ziggy's death. A little over five minutes and the feel and tempo of the song change dramatically, and it becomes something almost disco-like. The repeated refrain of "It's too late" and the faux denial of the line "It's not the side effects of the cocaine/I'm thinking that it must be love" alludes to a brain that is constantly working and looking for reason. Although it starts with the train noise, the station Bowie is singing about aren't railway stations, rather stations of the cross. 

The main difference between the 1999 remaster and the Maslin mix on this one is that the latter is a little cleaner and shinier. The drums are punchiner, and the guitars are brighter. There's a line or two of Bowie's that have been electronically dabbled with for eerie effect, but yeah, no biggie. Think I prefer the former. 

2. GOLDEN YEARS
This is the first song I'd heard from this album, because it was on the Changesbowie compilation. My affection for this number has grown over the years, and I think it's one of Bowie's best 'dancey' tunes. Its usage in 2001's Heath Ledger vehicle A Knight's Tale probably adds to the want to dance to it. 

The Maslin mix features a boomier bass drum and a stronger bass feel, in general. The intro positively rumbles out of the speaker, as the kick thuds along to that fabulous guitar riff. It sounds like the vocals have been pushed further out front as well. Again, it has that sparkly, shiny sound, but it's not terrible. 

3. WORD ON A WING
Some of the finest piano playing of Bittan's career is right here, as is some of Bowie's finest vocal work. He goes everywhere, without over-singing or being pretentious. Every melodic turn serves a purpose and aids the song as he shows that he's "ready to shake the scheme of things". It's a track that has a deep yearning, almost feeling like a prayer at times, but it seems that Bowie is yearning to let another accept the help he is offering. It's a wonderful song that sweeps and seduces as it winds along.

Again, the Maslin mix features a louder and more present rhythm section. Earl Slick's lead guitar squawks are a little more piercing as well. The piano positively dances out of the speakers and Bowie's vocal appears to sound more anguished. It's quite strange to hear the same songs with slight differences. One wonders how they would sound compared to the original 1976 vinyl release.

4. TVC15
Now for a song about a TV eating your girlfriend! He he he...apparently it was inspired by Iggy Pop, who had experienced a drug-influenced episode where he believed that was what he had just witnessed. Kicking off with a jaunty piano intro and some playful "Oh uh-oh uh-oh"s from Bowie, this spacey, funky slice of disco art-pop is catchy as heck. This is a big favourite of mine and I love singing along to this one, especially the chorus: "Oh my TVC15, oh-oh, TVC15..." I do love the fact that he kicked off his Live Aid set with this number too, and he famously performed it on SNL in 1979 wearing a hideous grey skirt. 

Much bass abounds from the Maslin mix, and Murray's bass itself absolutely thuds along. The backing vocals have been polished up too, sounding very bright and more present. There's certainly an aural difference that can be easily detected between the two versions. Listening to them side by side only adds to that ease.

5. STAY
I was stoked to see that this song was on the Glastonbury 2000 DVD/CD when it was finally released in 2018. Earl Slick had returned to his band too, so he could recreate the guitar intro he'd recorded twenty five odd years earlier. If you added the wonderful backing singers from Young Americans (Ava Cherry, Robin Clark and Luther Vandross) onto this track, it could sound like an outtake from that album. Again, we are treated to some groovy space funk, and despite its six-minute plus running time, it doesn't wear out its welcome. Possibly due to the great interplay between Slick and Alomar at the end.

Once again, it's the boomy bass and shiny vocals that announce the arrival of another Maslin mix. I don't know if they add anything all that special really. Just sounds like the track has been run through a car wash with extra polish. Certainly not bad though. He hasn't ruined anything, and the kept the vibe of all the songs so far.

6. WILD IS THE WIND
The final track on the album is a cover of the title song from the 1957 film Wild Is The Wind, and was originally sung by Johnny Mathis. It was Nina Simone's version that moved Bowie to record his own rendition, having met her in LA in 1975. This, in my opinion, is one of the most astounding vocal performances Bowie ever laid down. As wonderful as the band is on this track, Bowie is the prettiest star and shines brighter than ever. The song was released as a single in 1981 to promote the release of the Changestwobowie compilation. Now, that's a bizarre collection of Bowie songs! He he he...but still very good.


I had already heard the Maslin mix of this one, as it was included on the 2014 collection Nothing Has Changed. I remember thinking when I listened to it back then that the drums seemed to be up higher in the mix. They appeared to creep in earlier than I remembered too. Bowie's vocal is cleaner, again, but it allows his voice to soar higher somehow. I think this is the only track where I prefer the Maslin mix over the 1999 remaster.

This is truly an excellent album, and I love it. To celebrate the 45th anniversary of its release, there is a reissue available in either red or white vinyl, with the original black and white cover artwork. The cover of my CD copy is coloured, and there is no white border, the still takes up the entire cover space.

I give this 5/5. Would definitely listen again.

NEXT UP: Earthling - 3rd February