Thursday February 24, 2006 arts. michigandaily.com artspage@michigandaily.com RThe Sirhiga Bilg 5 . . . .. ... .. ... .. .. - - - --------------- - --- -- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . f Ci nm LM.ibre Courtesy of Cinema Libre "Shit, I can't see the 3-D image yet." 'Through the Fire' only for NBA fans SPEED OF LIGHT By Imran Syed Daily Arts Writer "What would Coney Island be like without basketball?" a filmmaker asks a young man, who responds, "Without basketball, there Through wouldn't be noth- the Fire ing." This is the sad At the Showcase truth we must con- Cinema Libre front and quickly accept to under- stand the plight of Sebastian Telfair, the focus of ESPN's documentary "Through the Fire." The film, which follows Telfair through his senior year of high school, plays out like "8 Mile" meets "Hoop Dreams," the story of a man overcoming all odds to achieve the impossible, but with an unimaginative setup and story- telling, the movie won't inspire anyone except Telfair's biggest fans. The 6-foot-tall Telfair is now a sec- ond-year guard for the Portland Trail- blazers, averaging a respectable nine points and four assists per game. But back in Coney Island, the proving grounds for some of basketball's most legendary talents - such as Telfair's cousin, NBA superstar Stephon Mar- bury - his aura transcends anything NBA stardom could ever provide. Mainstream viewers might be shocked at the seemingly mindless tenacity with which Telfair and others like him pursue their basketball dreams, fighting through serious injuries and dangerous neigh- bors. After all, only a handful of them at most have the talent to make it to the NBA, and even then, nothing is guaran- teed. But consider that there really is no other way out. So-called public officials may advocate a rise through education, but this is hardly a possibility as long as inner-city schools remain so desperately inadequate. Telfair's brothers and his mother both see that his pursuit of bas- ketball stardom could end with one mis- step or freak play, but what other choice do they have? For Telfair, in order to overcome his humble roots, basketball is the only option. But Telfair is an anomaly among his fellow cagers because he has the attitude along with the talent needed to make it. Though he's always been the best among his peers, he maintains a reserved out- look and readily accepts advice. Telfair's dream is to succeed and buy expensive things not for himself, but for all who helped him along the way. He recognizes the sacrifices of his family and wants nothing more than the ability to repay them with an easier future. With a running time of nearly two hours, however, the documentary loses the captivating aura of Telfair's odyssey and the content and flow lag behind. There are many scenes and accounts of Telfair's attempt to lead his team to a third city championship. These play out well for an ESPN-TV special, but are probably a bit of the long-winded side to compel theater audiences in the same way. Like most documentaries, then, "Through the Fire" succeeds at wow- ing only a subculture within the the- ater audience. Its story of overcoming life's obstacles is heartfelt and certainly real, but the whole package lacks finer elements to make it watchable for non- basketball fans. Still, Telfair's quest is something we can all keep an eye on; he has many obstacles before, as he says, he can truly "make it." COLDPLAY 'S THEATRICS ROMANCE PALACE AUDIENCE By Kimberly Chou Daily Arts Writer CONCERT REVIEW Musically overrated or not, Coldplay puts on a fuck- ing good show. Not just "Sesame Street"-level flashing light displays, but Kraftwerk- inspired countdowns, prismatic Coldplay beams of light shooting from all corners, confetti-filled yellow bal- Wednesday loons descending from the Palace Palace of Auburn Hills of Auburn Hills' ceiling at musi- cal climax - and that all was within the first 10 minutes of their concert Wednesday night. Chris Martin better have thanked the sound and lighting technicians. Among the biggest bands in the world, Coldplay commanded the crowd at the Palace, putting the 20,000-plus group under a soft-focus, piano-rock spell. But given the inoffensive nature that's led to their worldwide success, the ever-interesting Fiona Apple - so alluring, so borderline unstable - seemed an odd choice for opening act. Though a throaty performance of "Criminal" had Apple shaking and whirling like a repenting sinner pos- sessed, she wasn't quite in tune with the rest of the con- gregation. During Coldplay's lengthy set, the band took over the pulpit but preached to the choir. The majority of the Palace crowd was there for one reason alone: They wanted to see the British quartet perform their multi- platinum records live, augmented by flashy theatrics. Though Apple's intimate songs and personal idiosyn- SHOWY crasies were lost in a venue accustomed to selling out NBA playoff games, Coldplay was made for this kind of thing. As each of their popular torch songs came up in the set list, the band's audience swayed with arms open like members of a religious revival and waved the occasional lighter. Besides weepers like "The Scientist" - when the entire female contingent sighed audibly at the opening chords - Coldplay lit up the Palace with the dynamics of their kinetic, rhythm-heavy songs. Their opener was a spectacle in and of itself: Cold- play, backlit by a massive digital clock, launched into their first song as the numbers dribbled down to zero. The clock periodically re-started and counted down, setting off waves of light in red, blue and green over the captive audience. Frontman Martin leapt and strutted through the spotlight; the devout shouted along with the lyrics; 30-something drunk women found it a good time to dance. Coldplay is above all a pop band: They have a spe- cific audience (the college co-eds, young couples and sensitive yuppies were out in full force) and they know how to satisfy them. Thus the band stuck with their hits, including the ballads from their first two albums and the up-tempo singles off X & Y, mixing music with Cirque du Soleil-style aesthetics and athletics. Martin was in constant cardiovascular action, even when on the piano, shifting violently back and forth like a frantic child. Guy Berryman and Jon Buckland snarked and pulsed with their instruments, moving around the stage between the' camera views broadcasting kaleidoscopic versions of them on the giant background screen. TOMMASO GOMEZ/Daily Coldplay frontman Chris Martin performs at the Palace of Auburn Hills Wednesday. One of the earliest songs of their set, "Yellow" fea- tured a fantastic display of simple sensory stimula- tion and highlighted the Palace's arena atmosphere. Midway through the song, as the chorus built and the ringing guitar crescendoed, oversized yellow balloons dropped from the ceiling and burst with gold confetti as the crowd tossed them around the venue's floor. People knocked the lemon-yellow orbs around like beach balls, eventually batting them to the stage, popping, Martin attacking some of them, glitter spilling everywhere in a extravagant, beautiful mess. Martin might be the best-known member of the group, but no man is an island. Without support, such as when he opens a song just playing acoustic guitar, it's cute but it's a novelty. "God Put a Smile Upon Your Face" might fare better fleshed out with guitar, drums and bass; the introduction of just vocals and acoustic guitar was an unnecessary change to the already fine- tuned concert catalogue. Throughout the night, Coldplay's aim was to please - and their fans ate up everything they put out on the stage. After their own songs and a brief, stripped-down Johnny Cash tribute of sorts, Coldplay just wouldn't stop playing. What was the end of the band's set seemed weary, and the actual encore was just plain excessive to the casual fan. As Coldplay has already been on this Twisted Logic tour for months, you have to wonder how scripted it is. How many times can Martin attack glit- tery balloons with glee before it gets old? Thankfully for the Palace crowd on Wednesday, it came off fresh and effervescent. Destroyer's versatile sound shines on LP Wolf produces glossy, shallow take on law By Ben Megargel Daily Arts Writer By Alexandra Jones Daily Arts Writer For some listeners, Destroyer's notoriously difficult lyrics and mer-. curial moods from album to album make their music hard to like. For others, that diffi- culty presents an enthralling chal- lenge. Destroy- Destroyer Destroyer's Rubles Merge er's Rubies is the latest move in the battle of wits between lyrical mas- termind Dan Bejar and an audience who either loves or hates him for his music's complexity. It's also difficult to contextual- ize Destroyer's Bejar without men- tioning two of his closest musical touchstones, Bob Dylan and David Bowie. It's counterintuitive as well: With the exception of his hunky- dory vocal stylings, Bejar doesn't really "sound" like them. The fact that the artists who serve as his most apt and apparent comparisons are musical iconoclasts both boast- ing a history of chameleonic shifts in identity and tone throughout their careers, speaks to the expansiveness of Bejar's vision and the intricate, enthralling music through which it's carried out. These days, when three-quali- fier genre classifications are created to suit new acts and the inevitable scenes that spring up around them, Destroyer's sprawling, lyrically dense brand of bluesy folk rock defies relation to even the most spe- cific genre-slicing. Too pop-driven tracks with twitchy howl-rockers and fellow British Columbians Frog Eyes to create Notorious Lightening and Other Works. Though he sticks with the JC/DC production team from album to album, Bejar has admitted he's quite susceptible to the stylistic influences of whatever musicians he plays with. Here, he's working in the striding, poetic-rock style more characteristic of his pre- Blues period. No doubt in part thanks to all the Bowie parallels, Destroyer's work has been awkwardly squeezed into the "glam" category. But it's not the genre's typical trappings - like glitzy production or exces- sive ego-stroking - that create the tenuous connection to Bejar: It's the unabashed scope of his lyrical ref- erences, which pull from sources as specific as his back catalogue (numerous thematic references to the Your Blues concept establish the mood of the first half of Rubies) and even previous tracks on the same album. Lyrically, Bejar expresses the same freakish bravado that could' be implied with a rhinestone-stud- ded bodysuit, all underscored with far-off, clattering percussion and heart-pounding acoustic strumming. And on Rubies, Bejar maximizes the potential of his pipes, spewing conviction through crackling, lilt- ing, nasal syllables. He leans hard on parts of phrases in a way that hasn't imbued such meaning to free, proclamatory lyrics since a certain wild-haired, painted-faced vision- ary spewed secrets from the stage of the Rolling Thunder Revue. Musical references, imagined really clamors to life at the end of what would be the final couplet of its first full stanza, commanded in Bejar's most prophetic tone: "I wave to them in a modern way / And increase my stay at the dock of the bay." On the last word, the gorgeous- ly hopeful ascending scale that's the melodic basis for the song strikes in the form of thick, fuzzy guitar. Throughout the album, there are shifts to quieter, cooler moods ("Painter in Your Pocket") and even a stylistic exercise in Pavement- esque one-offs (the joyful, slightly crazy "3,000 Flowers"). Some songs stretch a little long in the connect- ing material between sections, but the album's building blocks are chiefly like scenes in a play, show- ing thematic and sonic progression throughout the whole. After sprinkling the album with references both remote and a little solipsistic, Bejar announces, over the pounding piano of the "Idiot Wind"-esque "A Dangerous Woman Up to a Point," "Those who love Zeppelin will soon betray Floyd / I cast off these couplets in honor of the void." After a decade of albums, Destroyer's Rubies sounds like a culmination of some of the best of Bejar's experimentations. So far, Bejar's trajectory has been steadily rising, and, if what he says about his influences is true, he'll be working with more foreign-sound- In a bid to extend his monopoly on law dramas, producer Dick Wolf offers his latest cut-and-paste contraption, "Con- viction," the glossy tale of seven young lawyers in Manhattan. More akin to Conviction "Grey's Anatomy" than Wolf's "Law & Order" franchise, the character-ori- Fridays at 10 p.m. ented drama engrosses the viewer in the NBC wild antics of these young profession- als. Though highly realistic, frenetic and cast along familiar lines, the crisply edited and fast-paced show successfully taps into the growing market for primetime soap operas. "Conviction" centers on the personal lives of a conven- tionally attractive group of assistant district attorneys, focusing heavily on romantic trysts and one-night stands. Far more concerned with salacious escapades rather than actual law, the debut episode features two sex scenes, one shooting and frequent references to alcohol, cocaine and condoms. The high-profile cases are used only as backdrop to highlight the runway-ready cast's personal dilemmas and daily stresses. The show is essentially a collection of hollow network-TV archetypes. All the characters play one-sided, uncomplicat- ed roles; there are the uneasy, awkward new hirees (Jordan Bridges, "CSI: NY" and (Julianne Nicholson, "ER"), the hard-hitting blonde with black-rimmed glasses (Stephanie March, "Law and Order: SVU"). And of course, the stan- dard issue playboy and alpha male, portrayed by Eric Bal- four ("The O.C.") and Anson Mount ("Lost"), respectively. With such a large cast, the show jumps around quickly, making it practically impossible for the camera to settle on a moment or capture any true emotion. All of the stereotypical characters are dealt with on a purely surface level, never dig- ging into the complexities of their individuals personas. The two things the cast has in common are high cheek- bones and great hair. Even though these people are sup- posedly just starting at one of the most time-intensive jobs there is, they still possess an uncanny ability to wake up every morning without bags under their eyes. Their curious good looks paired with a swinger lifestyle inspire a distinct, markedly artificial, Hollywood feel not suited for an appar- ently serious New York law firm. But despite its flaws, it has to be said: The show is still very entertaining. It doesn't try to be intellectual or, you know, plot driven at all, instead shamelessly basking in the fabulous lives and good looks of its stars. Dick Wolf may be getting old, but at least he still knows what sells. - The pilot, which premieres March 3, is also currently available as a free download on iTunes. Classic show finds new By Michael Passman Daily Arts Writer "Hill Street Blues" is just one of those shows. The title sounds familiar, you remember your Hill Street uncle raving about Blues: The it - but you don't Complete recall ever seeing First Season it. Now, 25 years after its debut, the 20th Century Fox show that redefined police drama has been restored on DVD with "Hill Street Blues: The Complete First Season" for the "Law & Order" generation to discover. Joyce Davenport (Veronica Hamel). Before "Hill Street Blues," most police dramas had a skewed perspective. They portrayed the officers as ultimate, Cold War-powered champions of the law, most pivoting around these super-cops tri- umphing over the bad guys. "Blues" took a different approach altogether. Instead of making all cops out to be flawless individuals, "Blues" rendered each mem- ber of the ensemble their own character, morally and emotionally complex. "Blues" also ventured away from most TV dramas of its time by making the show a continuous reality in which each subsequent episode dealt with the after- math of the previous show. The show's signature character flaws manifested themselves over the course generation vative, when viewed next to modern dra- mas, it doesn't seem so unique. Though it's well written, generations who haven't seen the show prior to this release may be reluctant to gravitate toward. it. The character-centered plot lines that made "Blues" so special have been copied by nearly all of contemporary television and though today's shows aren't necessar- ily better, they detract the shock value "Blues" originally carried. The special features are limited and don't have much to offer. Only a few of the episodes have audio commentaries, and those that do are tiresome and dry. There is a lengthy featurette highlighting a reunion with many of the cast members discussing old times. Unfortunately, that's basically all this featurete is: old friends rmin, cni nan .l'nu t the na-m t.nd not rnff~r-.