Crib Notes

(photo © Jonathan Wenk/TWC 2007)

In this week’s issue I took a rather broad-sided look at the slew of rock-related movies that have been released in 2007, “Rocking in a hard place” — particularly the rock biopic, which seems to have been practically reinvented whether as a documentary or as a feature film.

I’d dashed off the piece for a Wednesday deadline but failed to check to see if all the movies mentioned were still in local theaters. Fortunately, all but one of the films, Kurt Cobain: About a Son, are still around, most notably the recently released Todd Haynes film I’m Not There — about Bob Dylan.

Also fortunate is the fact that our film critics have reviewed each of the movies, so I’d definitely recommend checking out Felicia Feaster’s reviews of I’m Not There and Control, as well as Curt Holman’s reviews of Across the Universe and Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten. One caveat: A quick glance at our Movie Times reveals that Across the Universe, Control and Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten are all hanging by a thread. (Both Control and Strummer have moved over to the Plaza Theatre, which for some reason does have its own kind of rock ’n’roll vibe.)

Finally, a question: What’s your favorite rock ’n’ roll movie, or rock biopic, for that matter?

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This past Saturday, when presented with the choice either to “Pump It Up” at Gwinnett or be felt up at the Girl Talk show at MJQ Concourse, the decision was easy: I went to the show I had tickets to. That the former required less physical movement and featured Elvis The-Love-of-My-Life Costello along with Bob Oh-My-God-That’s-Bob-Dylan Dylan also played a major factor.

Gwinnett Center has great sound, and the performances were stellar. If I were blind, it would have been, for me, a fabulous show. But this is what my $49.50 (not including service charge) bought me:

(Photo by Michael Ruther)

This is Bob Dylan and his band during the encore. Bob’s the one in the hat.

And just imagine Elvis Costello (solo, for the first time in 12 years) in the same space. One tiny British man serenaded 13,000 with an acoustic guitar that, from my seat a quarter-mile away, was smaller than the beer in my hand.

As for Dylan, do I think he’s over-the-hill? Do I think he’s past his prime? Musically, no. I couldn’t determine anything else without binoculars ($10 by the merch table).

I know large venues such as the Arena at Gwinnett Center are necessary, especially for such big acts. But sometimes, when I pay to see a band, I want to see a band.

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