Katie Sawicki (5/22/2008)

admin — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 02:40:00 +0000

New York, New York

Seeing Katie Sawicki live is, quite simply, wonderful. I am currently listening to her album, and as she honestly tells her own stories, I am inspired to write a narrative as a review.

I went to see Katie Sawicki at The Living Room in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. It was a Thursday, and I was taking one my best friends to the show (she is my colleague as well, at a fairly dysfunctional charter school). We met for dinner beforehand, and promptly hit a wall; we were totally and completely exhausted. It had been a long, messy week, and we were falling asleep over our plates. We’d spent quite a bit of the week mad and fighting so much stupidity at work. I also was nervous about going to stay with a possible new lover the next day, and I worried that I wouldn’t be able to give an honest review of the show, seeing as where I really wanted to be was at home sleeping.

We walked on down to the show, sat in the back, and said "no, thank you" to drinks from the waitress—too tired. We waited patiently through whoever was playing first; it was, um, nice, and... sleepy. This was so not helping. Then Katie took the stage.

She was cute as a button (can I say that in a review? I don’t care. She is). And when she started to sing, well, I was drawn in. Katie has a heart-achingly beautiful voice that can go from powerful and mad to sweet and vulnerable in a note. She is a charismatic performer, an honest storyteller, and a talented musician. Her melodies and harmonies were so lovely, stirring all kinds of feelings beneath my ribcage. Her folk frankness was buoyed by the swell of gorgeously composed music and the deep, sweet sounds of a cello (we really liked the cello).

And here’s what happened: I stopped being tired. I put my head on my friend’s shoulder, snuggling into her, and she snuggled back. I had one of those moments of perfect love, where everything in me was radiating the happiness of being next to her, and with her, and able to love her. So, as much as Katie’s songs are about lost love and leaving, the beauty of her music and her voice reminded me of the gift of the girl sitting next to me, and I was happy that I could let everything else just then be carried away on the notes as they left the back room. It is a moment I will enjoy holding for a long time.

This is the best praise I can give, and the only way I could write this review. I was exhausted, anxious, and heavy with life, and in an hour, Katie Sawicki—with her music and her stunning voice—made it all go away. It was, as I have said, a wonderful experience, seeing her live. If you can catch her, do. I hope she continues to tour, giving others a little respite from all the heaviness, too.

Written by: Arin Brenner, June 16th 2008

Bra Boys

admin — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 18:06:00 +0000

Directed by Sunny Abberton

Berkela Films

I have to say, I thought I would hate Bra Boys. A documentary about the much maligned surfing gang of the poverty-stricken Maroubra Beach community in Australia, made by the _Bra Boys _themselves, I expected a lot of glorification of violence, sexism, and machismo. Instead, the film portrays violence negatively and only to be used in self-defense, promotes tolerance and acceptance of all cultures, and tells a very compelling story about how surfing saved a great number of boys in Maroubra from broken and abusive homes, drugs, and prison.

As for the overt sexism, there wasn’t any. There were also no women in the film whatsoever, except for the saintly grandmother of the Abberton brothers, the brothers being the primary filmmakers and storytellers of the movie. Perhaps there was some kind of freak sewage spill, and no female children are born in Maroubra anymore? I don’t know. The lack of females is that extreme. I’d like to know, if the boys have surfing to save them, what do the young women of Maroubra have to save them from poverty, violence, and a surfing culture that entirely excludes them.

At any rate, Sunny Abberton tells the story (with help from some totally unnecessary narration from Russell Crowe) of how the Bra Boys were formed, how the police came to hate them (not their fault), how they fought with other gangs (the other gangs started it), how one of his brothers, Jai, came to be charged with murder (naturally, not his fault), and how they have helped to mend racial tensions in the area (they want credit for that). This is where the line between PR piece and documentary becomes blurry; these are some seriously unreliable narrators, after all, which does not entirely detract from the film.

There is a lot to be said about the power of those who have been disempowered getting the chance to tell their story with cameras in hand, a chance to redress wrongs by showing the systematic oppression of a population. Despite the shaky handheld recordings, the overly long running time, and the very narrow point of view, there is a really strong, affirming message underneath about banding together, the beauty of surfing, pride in one’s community, and overcoming some very formidable obstacles. Also, the footage of big, scary waves and incredibly daring surfing are just really fun to watch.

So, Bra Boys exceeded my expectations, and I spent a fairly entertaining hour and a half watching it (although I can’t promise the only real reason I was entertained was because it was decidedly better than I thought it would be). There are weaknesses here, yes, and they can make for a frustrating viewing, but the surfing and the waves, dude, on the big screen, they are just awesome.

Written by: Arin Brenner, April 19th 2008