Finite Focus: Of Vowels and Mammarys (The American Astronaut)
One spicy and cinematic pleasure over the past 10 years or so has been slew of inventive re-interpretations of the Musical. A genre that has been more or less neglected since the late 1950s, only popping up occasionally outside the realm of Disney animated features and of course, the bulk of output from Bollywood. But in the very late 1990s, perhaps starting with Dancer in the Dark and South Park: Bigger, Longer, Uncut, and continuing with Moulin Rouge!, Once, Romance and Cigarettes and Across the Universe. It has been a pretty exciting time for the genre, even if many of them are not perfect, the bulk of them have been quite interesting.
In terms of oddity and bliss however, it would be difficult to top Cory McAbee’s brand of musical pastiche: The American Astronaut. Part retro-science fiction, part western, wholly funny, and structured as an art-rockabilly musical. It is one of a kind and has style to burn while maintaining a satisfyingly self-deprecating mockery to the proceedings (The closest I can get would be a fusion of Star Wars and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Buckaroo Banzai and the Ice Pirates, but that doesn’t quite get there either). McAbee’s band, The Billy Nayer Show does all the music, while McAbee himself stars as smuggler Samuel Curtis who has to deliver a cat to the proprietor of a hive of scum an villainy (and an exceptionally long single-take joke from Sopranos regular, Tom Aldredge) located on a moon of Jupiter for an embryo of a “Real Live Girl” to a mining planet to pick up a fellow who could lead him to the deceased body of super-stud Johnny R., the delivery of which to Earth would net a handsome reward. All of this with the diabolical Dr. Hess on his trail and potentially a case of the space punies.
Now I give you the picking up of the “Boy Who Has Actually Seen A Woman’s Breast” and tells the tale nightly to the all-male mining population with a bit of effeminate greco-roman-kitsch and pomp. Note the stunning black and white cinematography on display here. It is a knock out of a scene that stays with you for some time, and it is only one of many top shelf musical numbers. If one was so inclined, there could be a dozen FF entries from just this film. Get together a goodly sized group in the right mood and this one is a real treat: “You have been sprinkled with lucky stardust!”












Comment by Quiet Earth — April 7, 2008 @ 3:00 pm