A segue back....

Since we've been on the topic of movies for a few posts, let me suggest an easy way to segue back into music (because, ultimately, I really need to start talking about Led Zeppelin) by throwing out another challenge:

Name the best musical performance in non-musical, non-concert film

This can be canned or lip-synced (as it very often is) or it can be a real live recording, but it can't be a movie about that artist or anything that is chiefly musical, and it can't be a documentary. It must be a movie where the characters wind up in a bar or a concert or whatever and see some artist perform. This is, by default, going to involve a lot of bar scenes.

This could be a real band, like the Circle Jerks playing in Repo Man, or it could be a movie-only band, like Otis Day and the Knights in Animal House. I'm going to have to rule out The Blues Brothers since that's a movie primarily about a band, just as I would pretty much rule out any Muppet movie, despite the spectacular songwriting contributions of Paul Williams and others to those brilliant soundtracks.

The key factor is really that the performance has to be a part of the story, whether primary or just incidental. It can be offhand or it can be absolutely key to the plot, but it must be a piece of the narrative. I think we should probably also rule out movies that are not primarily "musicals" but have more than two or three musical performances in them, like School of Rock – although I could watch that credit sequence over and over again and never get tired of it. As much as I know it will pain you, this would probably also exclude The Fabulous Baker Boys.

So, I've been thinking about this all morning and the one that continues to stick in my head is Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds performing "From Her to Eternity" in Wings of Desire. Something about the way it was integrated in to the movie, both in terms of visual and overall mood, really struck me when I saw it and continues to stick with me years later. So, that's my initial vote, but I'm eager to hear more examples from you.

Thank you, Mr Knowles

Ah, what an earnest fanboy you are. I think Ain't It Cool News is looking for freelancers - you should go look them up. You apparently checked your capacity for critical thought at the door of your last Rush concert, because you don't seem to be able to think sensibly about anything you admire. That may explain your inability to see Buffalo 66 for the pile of dried feces that it truly is.

I'll say it again - There Will Be Blood is a very good movie, just not a particularly pleasant one to watch. I was mostly discussing the score, since this is ostensibly a music blog, but it's clear we can't dance around the movie itself. So, I'll get my last few thoughts in here and then we can move on to something culturally relevant like Mariah Carey.

Regarding your final thought - that this was a bold, risky move - fuck that. There is nothing particularly risky in casting Daniel Day-Lewis as a scene-chewing madman. The gentleman comes with his own critical seal of approval. Casting Pauly Shore as Plainview would have been risky and bold. Todd Haynes makes bold, risky movies; Anderson mitigates his limited risk with big stars (Tom Cruise, anyone?) and pop star-penned scores (we can thank him for the resurgence of Aimee Mann, for whatever that's worth).

I think Anderson is an excellent filmmaker, and he may be one of the few true auteurs of his generation, in the sense that his movies are more reflective of his own sensibilities and (sometimes) cohesive vision than of the particular story he is telling. I do not disagree that he is able to extract good performances, though I found that blasted frog movie to be irritating and strident.

As to your previous (now deleted) assertion that he is the only one from that generation who's made anything worth shit, I might present to you Wes Anderson (another auteur, with perhaps an even more cohesive vision); Christopher Nolan (capable of making popular and interesting fare, a lá Spielberg); Hal Hartley (irritating as fuck, but a unique sensibility); the aforementioned Todd Haynes; I could go on. Tarantino may not be a convincing auteur, but you have to admit he is one hell of a cinematic DJ....

What I think PT Anderson in particular is lacking is the sort of subtlety and rhythm that a master filmmaker like Altman or Scorsese brings to any material. I wouldn't expect that from him at this point in his career, but it is important to distinguish between his "work of art" and other films, since your fanboy mindset seems to only be able to judge most movies as either "KICKASS" or "REALLY FUCKIN' KICKASS". I maintain that Anderson is almost constitutionally incapable of true subtlety, as this bit of "Guernica" shows.

The analogy to Picasso's horrific masterpiece is a good one, but it illustrates my point more directly than you might wish. If Picasso had painted nothing but Guernicas, he would have been a fringe artist like Munch or a niche painter like Bosch. Picasso's masterwork was so effective in large part because, within the body of his work, it was such a brutal departure. And even in this departure he showed nuance and abstraction.

Anderson's problem is that he wants every film he's made since Boogie Nights to take you up by the shoulders and shake you and convince you that he really means something here - he keeps making Guernicas. I think he's overcompensating, that's all. It doesn't make for an unwatchable movie, but it does place him in the company of people like Oliver Stone who sometimes take themselves too seriously. In the end, I think he wants to be Lars von Trier with a much bigger trailer.

I'd sign off with an insult, but I think I've worked enough of them in already. I look forward to your impassioned defense of Vincent Gallo's complete ouvre.

Johnny Greenwood

Alright, this "hater" is going to take you to task over the Radiohead guitarist's big-picture soundtrack for There Will Be Blood. We've already debated the merits of the movie itself, which I found very good, despite Anderson's tendency to beat the viewer over the head with "this is an important movie" bluntness. I'm not sure the movie would have held together without Day-Lewis' method madness anchoring the whole thing, but as a bizarre, almost hellish, bleached-out period film, it's hard to think of anything that's tackled this kind of subject successfully in recent years without trumpeting the "revisionist" label. There Will Be Blood is truly an original work of art. Then again, I can think of quite a few John Ford movies I'd watch again before giving this one a second view. As rewarding and original as it was, this movie hurt my brain.

I blame said damage partially on the soundtrack, which screeched and caromed like a derailing train in scenes seemingly bereft of accompanying drama. It's clear that a peculiar brand of harshness was central to Anderson's portrayal of the period, and he certainly achieved that visually. Greenwood's soundtrack offered no relief – not that it absolutely must – but instead piled on the dread in a way that would make John Carpenter proud. If Anderson's filmic vision was one of sandpaper and grit, Greenwood's soundtrack felt like a nail file dragged slowly across it.

As an experiment in sinister, minimalist composition, I think the soundtrack holds some interest. Greenwood and company have trafficked in existential dread for years (somewhere along the line, they became our generation's Pink Floyd), so I guess it made sense to recruit one of the creators of a fully-realized, haunting rock sound. But I'm not sure that Greenwood's creation works particularly well for a movie, precisely because it offers no contrast with or complement to what's actually on screen. It is monochromatic, harsh and unforgiving; the violin crescendos scream at you as if a slasher is waiting around the bend. The movie beats you to a pulp, and the soundtrack comes by and kicks you in the head just to be sure.

I have no problem with atmospheric gloom (Michael Mann may be the standard bearer for that) or high musical drama (think of all those Lost cliffhangers) but both are typically leavened with something to keep you from clawing your eyes out; too much of anything, especially within the confines of a nearly three-hour period piece, can be a bad thing. Anderson used Greenwood's music sparingly – thankfully. But the sparse appearances stood out even more, calling attention to themselves like the ravings of the deranged minister.

I don't doubt that all of this was intentional – as I said, there is something about this movie (and a few others in Anderson's ouvre) that screams "LOOK AT ME, I'M SERIOUS." Maybe that's what happens when you've never surpassed the popularity of your light-hearted riff on seventies porn - you go and make really serious movies until people listen to what you have to say. Judging by the critical acclaim, Anderson was successful in finally getting people to take him goddamn seriously. I just don't think he needed a soundtrack to add another layer of misery on top of it.

What do you think?