Mr.Moustache

Thank you all. The film speaks for itself.

I consider Kubrick one of the most open cinematic experimenters to ever walk the surface of our planet, and similarly, I see in this film so much prophetic spirit that it leaves one speechless. What Kubrick was (Nietzsche or not) is written in each of his films, branded in every single frame, even if subliminally. Reflect on this: I don’t believe in the director’s total nihilism; instead, I see in him a Leonardo in turmoil, the only one who understood that to make a sensation more visible, it had to be elevated to the extreme, to the point of becoming unrecognizable. It is easy to hold differing opinions on this, as well as on his other masterpieces; what is difficult is to grasp every meaning in a presumptuous or absolute way. He did nothing but open the door to the other side of the mirror, and with great pleasure, I stepped through it several times.

I believe you didn't understand what I meant to say.

One of the most boring films ever, more predictable than the plot suggests. Sorry, but I just couldn't bring myself to watch it again (with or without subtitles...).

A Hugoniot: very true what you say, it's Grinderman, but I thought it would be more correct to separate the name to pay tribute to Cave’s figure, also because those who don’t know him and are starting to listen to the Seeds can easily find them in the database (associating them with the Bad Seeds). Right anyway, and thank you.

My ears, Mr. HB, joyfully and happily relish what can be considered the killer tracks from the early Birthday Party - especially Prayers On Fire - but they don't disdain the works with the Seeds either - among them, the fantastic first album From Her To Eternity - although I believe that between the two bands, it's the former that has truly left its mark: tense rhythms, the sound of a blues so filthy it's inimitable; only years later would Galore create a similar interpretation of sonic depravity, obviously failing to reach the heights of Cave's grandiose lyrics, which I deem to be some of the few truly and PROPER poets dressed up as a "party" musician and/or singer. Initially, I associated him too much with Bargeld from Neubauten, but I changed my mind listening to "La festa di Compleanno." Their live shows are some of the most macabre and violent offerings that rock, teetering on the edge of the bearable, could grant to its devotees: screams, whisky at hand, airy heroin, copulatory gestures, sonic tortures, and damned reverberations, all delivered with an inimitable style. An audio-visual impact so spontaneous and sincere that its honesty could be read from a kilometer away, given how utterly wasted they were, not to mention one of their most incisive live performances, that of London in '82 with a Tracy Pew on the verge of arrest, where Cave said before "Dead Joe" (one of their best tracks) that what they were about to play wasn’t Loose (the Stooges), nor Search And Destroy (still the Stooges), and not even No Fun (again the Stooges), then he revealed it was Dead Joe, looked at the audience, and asked, are you ready for this? All with a tone so laced with irony that it sent shivers down the spine… fantastic…

I love From Here to Eternity from the Bad Seeds era, while I appreciate all the material from the Birthday Party, from hee-haw to the Peel Sessions. This man is fabulous, one of the few to remain genuine in a world of constant stagnation. He deserves to be explored and listened to, at least once, especially in his early days.

Coming out of the review, I can only say a few things: don’t get down thinking that Nick Cave is finished. He changes, and changes, and changes… The only thing that might leave you perplexed is the 250,000 albums made with Bargeld and friends, but this record is a different story; neither better nor worse than the Seeds, it’s new, regenerated. Hear it to believe it!

Personally, I saw it for the first time and it left me desolate; then on the subway, I saw a guy reading a newspaper that featured interviews with Scorsese from days gone by, I bought it and found a terrifying dedication, a search for minutiae: they made this film while being kicked in the ass (!) by the production and the church, and despite everything, it turned out like this, romanticized.

Great film, and great Pistilli (r.i.p)