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Rock pricing unreasonable
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lobby Byrd, entertainment editor
N
Well, we're about half
through the early November
glut of concerts, with only
Earth. Wind and Fire. Elton
John and two Eagles' shows
left in the next week. Kansas
so far has been the big loser,
both onstage and at the box
office Jimmy Buffett. Jethro
Tull and Billy Joel, however,
sold well, and turned in
well-received shows. (I
didn’t see Joel, but the
reactions have been favor
able.)
This, of course, leads to
another point. Contrary to
what some predicted, the
Atlanta market did support a
slate of eight major shows in
two weeks. Atlanta has long
been one of the better
markets for rock and roll in
the nation, and the crowds
will turn out to see their
^favorites, even if they have to
sell blood to do it.
But it won’t last forever.
Rock and roll, like a lot of
other businesses, is in grave
danger of pricing t»self out of
the market.
Had you decided to go to
three of the eight shows,
taking a date, you would
have shelled out around $b()
for tickets alone. Add to that
parking ($2 a shot), a couple
of 35 cent beers at $1.25
each, maybe a three buck
T-shirt as a souvenir for only
$7—and you've got a damned
expensive evening on your
hands. Rock audiences are
almost totally either (a) stu
dents with no income or (b)
young adults with only men
ial income. To expect them to
pay those prices is unreason
able—not because the
crowds will get fed up. but
because they'll simply run
out of money Were it not for
the wonder of reviewer's
passes. Lord know s I couldn't
afford it.
Eventually, it's all going to
start having an effect. Tours
are being cancelled, less
money is being spent on
artist development and pro
motion—and it doesn't hurt a
hand like the Eagles, who
charge $9.98 for a single
album and $11.50 for a
concert ticket. It hurts the
little, up and coming, more
progressive artists, people
we’re going to hear less and
less from. And that's a
shame.
One of the more entertain
ing things I saw last week
was the University of Virgin
ia hand during halftime of
Saturday's debacle. (Notice
these smooth transitions?)
They wear these absurd
orange gaucho outfits, hop
while they march, and make
bizarre formations. They sa
luted drugs with a giant
marching joint, and they won
over the hometown fans by
spelling out TECH with a
backward C. playing nursery
rhyme songs
And best of all. they put
things in their proper per
spective hv spelling SGA on
the field, while playing the
theme from Shaft.
A friend from UVA in
formed me that for many
decades, the Marching Wa-
hoo Pep Band has been the
only reason to go to the
Virginia game. After Satur
day’s game, maybe a re-
v aniping of the Redcoat Band
is in order.
The only thing more incon
sistent than the Dogs lately
has been Saturday Night
Live. In case you missed it.
last week’s show (as guest
host Bill Russell struggled to
read the cue cards) was
pathetic. The only good show
sti far this year was the
opener with Steve Martin,
and i*'s become obvious that
the loss of Dan Aykroyd and
John Belushi. the show's
•trongest actors, has crip
pled it.
The producer need to do
one of two things: either hire
replacements for the depart
ed pair immediately, or give
it all up. The show three
nights ago was like watching
Willie Mays fall down while
chasing a fly ball in 1973-
mere shades of greatness
gone before.
MOVIE RECREATES VIETNAM HORROR
‘ Apocalypse Now' a major disappointment
By BEN FLGITT
Staff writer
There is no questioning Fran
cis Ford Coppola's genius; the
two Godfathers alone stand as
towering achievements in them
selves. rich, brilliant, vital,
important.
Apocalypse Now, perhaps the
most anxiously awaited film in
history, was to crown Coppola’s
outstanding career. Insanely
ambitious, an epic in propor
tion. it was to be an adaptation
of one of the greatest works of
English literature. Joseph Con
rad’s Heart of Darkness. .»
postwar reflection "f the horrors
of Vietnam, an allegory of the
moral issues behind all wars,
and probing student of the dark
side of the human soul.
Sadly, in attempting to work
on all of these levels. Coppola
ends up succeeding on almost
none. Conceived on a grand
scale, the movie fails grandly.
Apocalypse Now is a ponderous,
heavy-handed, pretentious, con
fusing and muddled piece of
filmmaking. It is a disaster, but
it is the greatest, the grandest,
and the most impossibly ambi
tious of disasters.
Cinema
Apocalypse Now is the saga of
Captain Benjamin Willard (Mar
tin Sheen) who is ordered up
river into Cambodia during the
height of the Vietnam War to
kill Colonel Walter E. Kurtz
(Marlon Brando), a Green Beret
commander who has gone mad.
created his own army of native
tribesmen and American de
serters. made himsclt a god and
is fighting his own war Screen
writers Coppola and John Milius
The Wind and the Lion, Big
Wednesdav have opted to
improvise wildly on Conrad's
Heart of Darkness, bevond
changing the setting, and the
farther they stray from the
original the more problems they
run into. You simply can’t
improve on Joseph Conrad
Apocalypse Now exactly
where Heart of Darkness suc
ceeds. Marlowe. Conrad’s nar
rator. is a good man. a man who
is easy to feel for and identify
with, a kind of evervman.
Marlowe's counterpan in Apoc
alypse is Willard (Sheen) a
cold-blooded killer, a neurotic
introvert We feel little or
nothing for Willard. Jtence we
cannot sympathize with him.
and every possibility for drama
tic tension is undermined. More
importantly, the Willard charac
terization fails dramatically be
cause it is too close to Kurtz's
own identity from the outset.
There is no room for internal
conflict.
Heart of Darkness is a
riveting, compelling novel
largely because of the contrast
Conrad works between Marlowe
and Kurtz. Marlowe’s identity
as cveryman also serves to make
the bizarre attraction Marlowe
develops for Kurtz's evil mad
ness. his lack of restraint, and
his charisma doubly terrifying.
Conrad also gives Marlowe a
logical reason for the journey
upriver. Coppola's motives arc
more obscure, less credible.
After all. just why would
Willard’s superiors take the
expense and sacrifice the lives
of so many to kill a man who is
all but annihilating enemy
forces in his sector?
In Heart of Darkness, Conrad
gives us a Kurtz that is
shriveled up and emaciated
from within by his own soul’s
capacity for evil. Coppola's
Kunz (Brando) weighs in at
about 300 pounds. Oh. he
coughs once or twice to make a
stab at seeming sickly, but he
otherwise comes off looking as
sound as a linebacker. Coppola
is reduced to trying to make us
believe Kurtz wants to be killed
by Willard—yet ideally, and as
Conrad wrote it, Kurtz must be
done in by himself, by his own
soul's lack of restraint. There
should be no participants in
Kurtz's death, only witnesses.
The film's final scenes, the
confrontation between Kurtzand
Willard, are the weakest in the
film. and. it should be noted,
the part of the narrative that
strays farthest from what Con
rad had mind in the first place.
Brando's performance is very
mediocre, although much can be
attributed to the clumsily con
ceived dialogue. It amounts to
little more than a sad self-par
ody. After Coppola has dragged
us up the river for over two
hours for this final showdown,
and after wc have endured all
the horrors of war and Vittorio
Storato's endlessly repetitive
flog, smoke and lens flare cam
era tricks, we deserve some
thing more than seeing a
boring, bald fat man mumble
T.S. Eliot.
Apocalypse Now has a few
extraordinarx moments, how
ever. In one glorious sequence
of pure cinema, the film's
greatest scene, a war-crazed
captain (Robert Duvall) leads a
helicopter attack on a Viet Cong
outpost with Wagner’s “Flight
of the Valkyries" blasting out of
the choppers' loudspeakers
("Scares the hell out of the
slopes.") Beautifully conceived,
filmed, and acted and edited, it
is one of the handful of scenes in
the entire movie that looks as
though some money has been
spent on it. Curiously enough.
little of Apocalypse Now's $35
million budget is evident on the
screen.
Apocalypse Now is a grand
disaster and a major disappoint
ment. The greatest tragedy is
that it may be years before
Coppola is able to regain his
financial independence should
the movie fail at the box office.
As deeply flaw ed as the movie
is. it does manage to recreate
something of the horror of the
Vietnam War. though falling far
short of working on any other
level. There is a far greater
horror than Vietnam or any war.
as Conrad well knew: the horror
of the human soul’s capacity
for brutality, bloodlust and
destruction.
Apocalypse Now is playing now
at the Classic Triple.
1/3 of USA
ATLANTA
404 523 2975
CLASSES BEGIN DEC 10
lAll
■ CPA
REVIEW
$1 Sandwich
with the purchase of any sandwich
at regular price
Take out orders 353-9955
Open 11 am.-11 pm. Mon.-Sat.
Tuesday
Wednesday
^ v \\ef Lite Nigh,
Beef Bios,
50C
25 C draft
bottle
$2.00 pitcher
5 pm-12 am
5 pm-12 am
THE
GREAT ESCAPE.
You dream about it at night the day you
can close your books, get out of this place and
forget about studying for awhile.
Well the Great Escape is here . this
weekend with Greyhound. Escape to the
country or go see some friends Just decide
which escape route you want and we ll do
the rest
We ll get you out of town and away from the
books so you can clear your head It doesn t cost
much and it'll do you a world of good
So make the Great Escape this weekend
with Greyhound
To
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Grey hound Terminal 220 Weal Broad Street 549-2255
^
• GO GREYHOUND
Concert proves Anderson
‘not too old to rock and roll’
Golden Key
National Honor
Society
Scholastic
Achievement & Excellence
By BOBBY BYRD
Entertainment editor
Seeing Jethro Tull these days
is guaranteed to make you feel
old. Incredibly, it's been eight
years since Aqualung, and Ian
Anderson, once the owner of
rock's most famous coiffure, is
going bald. Their early '70s
contemporaries, such bands as
Uriah Heep. Ten Years After
and Deep I’urple. are now not
only gone, but forgotten.
But Tull marches on. Last
Thursday's show at the Omni
proved that the band's music is
still vital, their new material is
their best in a couple of years,
and Ian Anderson is. as always,
the consummate entertainer.
After a dismal set from UK. a
bad progressive band, the near
capacity crowd of 8000 (only half
of the house was sold) greeted
Tull's arrival with a roar.
Anderson raised a rope rigging
backdrop, and the band whip
ped into six selections from
Storm watch, their new LP.
The new material is a return
to Tull’s greater works—a
thankful abandoning of the
acoustic, pseudo-medieval
sound of Songs From The W ood
and Heavy Horses, in favor of
their classic rock sound The
band also displayed a return to
the theatrics of past tours. As
Anderson sang of the brewing
storm, snow was dumped upon
him. and longtime Tull key
boardist John Evan, who is
insane, flew a seagull on a stick
around the stage.
After the six new selections.
Anderson stepped to the mike,
thanked the crowd for its
attention, and announced “a
song you might remcnyjber from
the past—” a brilliant, surpris
ingly early rendition of “Aqua
lung.’’
The rest of the 110 minute
show was. simply, the best of
Jethro Tull. The selection
wasn't perfect—the first three
albums being largely ignored
while the title tracks from Songs
From The Wood and Heavy
Horses, which should have
been, weren't—but you can’t
have everything.
But the classics were ren
dered as faithfully and exciting
ly as ever. Thick As A Brick
was. while edited to eight
minutes, a forceful sample of
Tull’s most ambitious work, and
the “Flute Improvisation Solo—
Oh little Town Of Bethlehem—
Bourcc’’ medley was demon
strative of Anderson’s amazing
technique as a flautist.
And. as should be. the
encores were the strongest part
of the show—first “Too Old To
Rock And Roll. Too Young To
Die" and “Cross-Eyed Mary,”
followed by a medley of “Min
strel In The Gallery.” “Loco
motive Breath" and the "Dam-
buster's March."
The lineup, with one excep
tion. has remained unchanged:
Ian Anderson, flute, guitar and
vocals; Martin Barre. guitar;
John Evan, keyboards, white
suit and stage pranks; Barrie-
more Barlow, drums. David
Palmer, keyboards, and four-
week veteran Dave Peck, the
new addition on bass.
They're all fine musicians,
and fine entertainers. Nonethe
less. an evening with Tull is.
finally, a visit with Ian Ander
son. a showman in the league
with Jaggcr and Springsteen.
He works the crowd as well as
anyone—jumping, dancing,
saying more with a wave or
a stance than many artists do
with their words
He even looked more like the
Ian of old. clad in tight brown
trousers, leather boots a leather
vest, natty blue beret and long
hair. Unfortunately, some clod
flute stance. And. as he always
docs, he put his heart into the
performance, taking his charac
terization of the bawdy minstrel
to the hilt.
As the show neared its end.
"Too Old To Rock and Roll"
seemed an especially ironic
hit him in the eye with a Frisbce
a few days ago. necessitating
dark glasses to hide the dam
age. His facial expressions were
lost to the crowd.
But no matter The loving
audience cheered Anderson’s
every move, particularly each
time he assumed his trademark
choice for an encore. The song's
message is contained in the final
couplet- "You’re never too old
to rock and roll, if you're too
young to die"—and it’s never
been appropriate. May Ander
son—minstrel, flautist and
showman extraordinaire—play
forever.
LIFE For Some ANIMALS
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