Scandinavian teenage postpunk quartet Iceage is back for two area shows promoting debut album
Saturday, August 20, Cake Shop, $10, 8:00
Monday, August 22, Mercury Lounge, $10, 9:30
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Speeding by at Ramones-like speed, Scandinavian postpunk quartet Iceage’s debut album, New Brigade (What’s Your Rupture?, June 2011), consists of eleven propulsive tracks that clock in at barely more than twenty-five minutes. The Danish teens play a furious mix of Joy Division, the Clash, the Pogues, and the Black Lips, adding in a flurry of black metal, on such songs as “White Rune,” “Teeth Crush,” “Total Drench,” and “Collapse.” Elias Bender Rønnenfelt sings in English, accompanied by Johan Surrballe Wieth on guitar, Jakob Tvilling Pless on bass, and Dan Kjaer Nielsen on drums. Chaotic flourishes power “Eyes” and “Broken Bone,” while a sirenlike wailing guitar sears across “Never Return.” And through it all, Nielsen’s slightly muffled, exhilarating drumming pounds away at your body. “I lie in a pool of spit and fear / But I won’t stay weak or hurt or shattered,” Rønnenfelt sings on the album closer, “You’re Blessed,” and it’s impossible not to get caught up in his youthful exuberance. Iceage will be playing Cake Shop on August 20 with YOU. and Frank (just Frank) and Mercury Lounge on August 22 with Hoax and Hank Wood and the Hammerheads.
In 1999, L.A.-based French shopkeeper and amateur videographer Thierry Guetta discovered that he was related to street artist Invader and began filming his cousin putting up his tile works. Guetta, who did not know much about art, soon found himself immersed in the underground graffiti scene. On adventures with such famed street artists as Shepard Fairey, Swoon, Ron English, and Borf, Guetta took thousands of hours of much-sought-after video. The amateur videographer was determined to meet Banksy, the anarchic satirist who has been confounding authorities around the world with his striking, politically sensitive works perpetrated right under their noses, from England to New Orleans to the West Bank. Guetta finally gets his wish and begins filming the seemingly unfilmable as Banksy, whose identity has been a source of controversy for more than a decade, allows Guetta to follow him on the streets and invites him into his studio. But as he states at the beginning of his brilliant documentary, Exit Through the Gift Shop, Banksy—who hides his face from the camera in new interviews and blurs it in older footage—turns the tables on Guetta, making him the subject of this wildly entertaining film.
One of the craziest movies ever made, Nobuhiko Obayashi’s 1977 cult classic, House (Hausu), is finally getting its first-ever U.S. theatrical release, in a new 35mm print at the IFC Center. Truly one of those things that has to be seen to be believed, House is a psychedelic black horror comedy musical about Gorgeous (Kimiko Ikegami) and six of her high school friends who choose to spend part of their summer vacation at Gorgeous’s aunt’s (Yoko Minamida) very strange house. Gorgeous, whose mother died when she was little and whose father (Saho Sasazawa) is about to get married to Ryoko (Haruko Wanibuchi), brings along her playful friends Melody (Eriko Ikegami), Fantasy (Kumiko Oba), Prof (Ai Matsubara), Sweet (Masayo Miyako), Kung Fu (Miki Jinbo), and Mac (Mieko Sato), who quickly start disappearing like ten little Indians. House is a ceaselessly entertaining head trip of a movie, a tongue-in-chic celebration of genre with spectacular set designs by Kazuo Satsuya, beautiful cinematography by Yoshitaka Sakamoto, and a fab score by Asei Kobayashi and Mickie Yoshino. The original story actually came from the mind of Obayashi’s eleven-year-old daughter, Chigumi, who clearly has one heck of an imagination. Oh, and we can’t forget about the evil cat, a demonic feline to end all demonic felines. The film was released last year prior to its appearance on DVD from Janus, the same company that puts out such classic fare as Federico Fellini’s Amarcord, Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon, Jacques Tati’s M. Hulot’s Holiday, François Truffaut’s Shoot the Piano Player, Jean Renoir’s The Rules of the Game, and Jean-Luc Godard’s Vivre sa Vie, so House has joined some very prestigious company. And who are we to say it doesn’t deserve it?
