Live music: "Super" Mario thrills at Redbones

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With searchlights sweeping in the near distance, track records were being tested and bested at the nearby National Stadium.

But at Redbones on Saturday last, records were being given out (to the fortunate few) and transposed into silky vocals and instrumental expositions. Patrons jammed the courtyard of the Kingston eatery to hear and see "singing medic' Mario Evon perform tracks from his debut full-length offering, entitled "ME on Love," a project at least four years in the making.

And the red-jacketed crooner came out in good form from the get-go, announcing the "Reggae-Soul" hybrid that is the backbone of his oeuvre. Standout songs included "Never Let You Know", the breezy "Soul Tek" (adapting the Jamaican expression, my spirit tek you: I instinctively like you"), a dancehall-inflected cover of Babyface's "Whip Appeal" and the declaration of undying love "This Day"

Ching Pow: A [Cunning] Dancehall movie in "kickaz" guise

Ching Pow is a dancehall movie.

I find it important to start with that bit of overstatement,as there are some, well-intentioned and otherwise, who easily fall for the bait of writing it off based on the profanity and seeming crassness as well as the soft-core sex and other elements that contribute tot he producers' self-styled "NP" (No Pickney) rating.

Bruce Hart (right) with Twin of Twins

Those seeing the movie, which ended what is presumably a preliminary run Sunday night last at the "off-Palace" location of New Kingston's Theatre Place, will actually find a cunning mash-up of classic R-rated martial arts and contemporary dancehall expression, with thinly veiled (and sometimes not) social commentary that has a lot in common with the vintage National Gas magazine of the 1970s, just peppered with expletives - without which, I hasten to add, Ching Pow would STILL be funny.It is, in other words, a roundhouse kick to the gut of the falsely conservative.

Of vital importance to the full appreciation of what producer-director Bruce Hart and provocateurs Twin of Twins have wrought with Ching Pow, are the prologue and epilogue that bookend the main story.

And that main story centres around the kung fu staple of royal succession -this time with a Japanese as well as Chinese twist. The king is dead, the queen is presumed dead (though actually in exile), and their first-born son,(the character is actually given that name in the film, First Born) is working as a tout and pimp outsidea whorehouse, er that should be house of heavenly delights.

"First Born"

There is an honourable sensei, Master Bob (the Marley reference is, of course, obvious),  villain, Bad Muta (also obvious) an inscrutable blind prophet-teacher ad, naturally, a love interest, as well as the assorted expendables who provide fodder for the jokes and contribute to the body count.


Family, betrayal, megalomania and love - yes love in all its varied stripes are part and parcel of the narrative, but it is in the imposition of contemporary Jamaican dialogue, that Ching Pow really succeeds. Sound and visuals are so expertly melded, and the Twins - who provide the bulk (if not all) the voicings are so on-point with their expressions, that the film's conceit of disillusioned yardies transplanted to the Orient becomes not merely plausible, but readily acceptable. People all over this planet are ultimately motivated by and react to, the same things, regardless of the varied brushstrokes of culture and language: the guy wants to get the girl (and vice versa), the bad guy wants to run the world, and good somehow always conquers evil - even if "good" starts out as a egotistical, whoremongering "gyallis".

None of the above is even necessary to having a good time with this movie, provided your sensibilities are sufficiently fortified.  Ching Pow is just the kind of subversion that the country at large ought to be exposed to right now. It may not come to a cinema (God knows there are too few of those left anyhow) but here's hoping it comes near you....soon

Get Lucky: All's Fair in Love and Crime

Thieves who steal from thieves. Love and romance - of a fashion - amongst the gritty London underworld. Car chases, boat chases, beat-ups, close calls and shodowns in abandoned lots. They're familiar calling cards but in this plucky, if somewhat demanding little thriller, they don't lose much for all their familiarity.

Lucky is a small time criminal and he's happy just getting by until he agrees to look after some counterfeit money for a friend who is in a bit of trouble with the law Two months go by without a word from him so Lucky burns the 'funny money' to avoid problems for himself. The resulting fire means a trip to the emergency room where he meets Bridget and his charm has her agreeing to go out with him. Their date goes well until the end when two hoods bundle him into the back of their car. It appea

rs that they had bought the 'funny money' from Lucky's friend and they want it back - all £150,000 or Lucky will end up like his friend. Lucky needs to score big so he teams up with an old mate who is planning a big casino heist with a couple of other gangsters who's day job is collecting protection money for 'Mr Big'. The are looking to earn a bit of money 'on the side'. The heist goes almost according to plan but with one small problem - there's minimal cash and the rest is in bonds. It all starts to go wrong immediately. A prostitute who they have hired steals the bonds and the getaway car is stolen. Worse is yet to come. The two gangsters have not done their homework and they've actually just robbed 'Mr Big's casino. Their only chance to avoid their boss's severe retribution is to get the stuff back.

Director Sacha Bennett works the script (by the accomplished TJ Ramini and Walter Taylaur) with appreciable gusto, and whilst the acting is decidedly uneven, diminutive lead Luke Treadway as Lucky and a several of the "bit players" stand out in their respective spaces in the plot.

If you're not that used to the dialogue, this film may take a second screening to get used to but, its worth it if you like fast-paced action, spiced with a little sex (including a humourous incident involving a prostitute and one of the robbers).

In other words, its the perfect candidate for Testosterone Theatre. Sit back and dig in.

Canto Immigrante: Paraiso Travel (Colombia)

With your indulgence, I'll present my review of Colombia's entry in this year's Latin Film Fest, as an open verse poem. Here goes:

Young nubile Queen
of hearts
lures her pure-of heart
lover with her
Love Triangle
her twin spheres
to move across a continent
scrambling
careening
across rain forest and desert
crossing rivers like wildebeest
with vicious crocs hyeneas and lions in wait
to finally hit the promised Land
only to find the manna was stale
and their robes worn
and in the depths of despair
to separated in the thick of  the urban jungle
new family
new friends
new lovers
dodging officials at every step
and him seeing her face in every billboard
but the trail finally goes
South
where fumbling through trailer trash
he finds his long lost lover
but also that the love has been long lost
Most of all
he finds himself
Flawed
fatalistic
but fit for living
and ready for the future
for its not merely an immigrant's song
Its a love song

LOVE & ROMANCE…”BUY” THE BOOK: Think Like A Man

It takes a little over half the running time, but this over-earnest film adaptation of Steve Harvey’s best-selling relationship primer – Act Lie A Lady Think Like A man actually becomes moderately enjoyable – right at the point where it ceases to be one long, self-important promo for the book (complete with book signing highlights, video commentary from Harvey himself, and scenes of women battling each other for copies the way they would at a half-off brand name clothing sale). At this point, the relationships move appreciably beyond the “mis-matched types squaring off”  and the guys vs girls scenario to something approaching credible human interaction.

Prior to this, audiences have to suffer through Harvey and director Tim Story’s take on boy-meets-girl, complete with a heavy dose of “Harveyisms” – self-coined terms like “sportfish” or We also have to bear the hamming of …. Whose only purpose in the film seems to be to play the

Most credible of all are Taraji Henson and Michael Ealy. Their love amidst the class struggle affair truly resonates naturally, whether  in the aftermath of lovemaking or in the wake of arguments and break-ups.  Romany Malco and Meagan Good also shine as star-crossed opposites – he the confirmed playa, she consigned “good time girl” looking to step up to something serious,  but anxious to avoid justthe type of guy she’s been presented with.

It would hardly be much of a spoiler to state that all the couples find “happily ever after” before the credits roll. The director and writers …. Tie up the loose ends swifter and surer than a sailor in a storm – the ring is presented; the playa confesses true love and the “mama’s boy” (   ) finally cuts the umbilical cord and makes his single-mom hottie the #1 woman in his life.

The producers were clearly intending “Think Like A Man” as the conventional “chick flick” that the guys can also feel a part of. Ideally, the only way the half-serious  filmgoer can survive it is to see it as a watered down war of the sexes  - with likeable salvos from both sides, but no clear winner. 

Whoopi Plays God, Obama Plays Matchmaker: Review Double-Bill

Unfortunately, Whoopi Goldberg playing God, the setting of New Orleans (still in recovery mode, but vibrant), and the addition of Gael Garica Bernal do not quite add up to 'A Little Bit of Heaven'.

The Kate Hudson vehicle is a pleasant enough diversion, but neither the comedy nor the romance have sufficient intensity or zing to really pull the viewer in until almost at the end. Kate plays a successful ad exec and commitment-phobe who is suddenly diagnosed with colon cancer (yes, we'll strive to avoid the cliche). The bearer of this bad news is a "terminally" (okay, we're weak) stiff but ambitious oncologist (Bernal) who's torn between his decidedly unprofessional stirrings for his new patient and his desire to progress in a special advance programme run by an even stiffer senior doctor.

In fairness, Bernal's performance becomes more appreciable once he and Hudson's character become "invovled"  as does that of Kathy Bates, who plays the mom with the victim mentality. And of course, we could not help but mention a few of the other support players: Lucy Punch as the pixieish, "down for whatever co-worker, Romany Malco doing both the token Black (sorry, Whoopi) and token gay male friend roles, and Peter Dinklage (no role is too small for him to blow up) as the "blind date/pick-me-up" recommended by said gay male friend (that encounter is a genuine hoot).

That said, its not a crowning achievement for writer/co-producer Gren Wells or director Nicole Kassell and - most disappointingly - this is a contemporary film set in New Orleans, and there are only two minute scenes involving live music/performance.

They may have been trying to escape formula, but sometimes knowing what you'll get beforehand increases the enjoyment.

Not so the case with the "aspiring" political romantic comedy "The Politics of Love". While the multiple conflicts engendered by the impending election of Barack Obama in 2008 seems fertile ground for the genre, The Politics of Love has all the flavour of an English sausage (apologies to our British friends). Jock-turned-actor Brian White (son of former NFL great Jo Jo White) reps for the Republicans, while straight-from-Bollywood hottie Mallika Sherawat is his bit of "Obama Massala".

The problem? Well, let's let's start with the acting gap. White is competent, and has presence, while the undoubtedly gorgeous Sherawat has all the effective range of my high-school spitballs. Watching them together is almost painful. Thankfully leaven comes in several forms: Anil Raman as the Dem's pothead, ne'er do well younger brother, and Loretta Devine (what hasn't she done?) Trinidad-born Gerry Bednob as her parents who, when they're not fighting, and splitting, and making up, run a restaurant.

The rest is an all-too predictable mish-mash (we're aware of our previous rubric) of movie cliches: bikini car wash, would-be Hooters girls, an obsessed TV news reporter smelling a big story, a manufactured scandal(guess which side is behind it) and so on and so forth.

Its already history of course - Barack wins. And love overcomes all hurts, the "bad guy" gets decked and even Indian and Soul Food learn to live together in harmony. All in one neat little 90-minute package. Yeah, riiiight. Republican Vice-Presidential running mate (and now occasional media gadfly) Sarah Palin inspired some far less insipid and testosterone-raising films than this - they just won't be filed under "family entertainment."

Let's Get It On...And On...and On: Love and Other Drugs Trailer 2010 HD

Jamie (Jake Gyllenhaal) is a golden boy who can sell igloos to Eskimos - mostly by charming the pants off willing females. He gets into the pharmaceutical game and is an on-the-rise young sales genius. Through one of his doctor clients, he meets - more specifically gets a peek at - Maggie (Anne Hathaway), a free spirit who has early-onset Parkinson's. They enter into a no holds barred relationship on the initially mutual assumption that no commitment is or will be required.

That assumption, of course, doesn't hold and its is Jamie in fact who first blurts out the "L" word. This happens after several sessions of copious sex.

 Later her health does become a factor, and also his commitment to the sales game. But in the meanwhile they have a rip roaring great time physically with each other, which we see in detail. There is much nudity involving buttocks and breasts, but it is strangely non-stimulating (possibly an intended reaction on the part of the director). It really seems just short of gratuitous.

For the two leads, much has changed in their career trajectories since they were paired, as husband and wife, in Brokeback Mountain. Both have enjoyed mainstream success to a reasonable extent while still taking on edgier fare. The chemistry is undeniably there between them, but the fact is, the audience cares more for them during the presumed "no-commitment" phase even if the true depth of feeling is patently obvious on both sides.

Gyllenhall is more endearing as the scheming cad than the caring suitor (Its  especially fun to watch him manipulate the doctor's all-too-willing receptionist)  and Hathway's pithy rejection-come on has far more charm and sensuality than the numerous nude afterglow scenes. Oliver Platt is largely filler, but Josh Gad, as Jamie's younger brother, convincingly grabs our attention. lascivious, materialistic and yet cowardly, he's a great slacker. Maybe it should have been his character that got caught up with Hathway's. We might have seen some more sparks.

As it is "Love and Other Drugs" is a movie that's enjoyable for about half an hour and thereafter, only in very brief spurts.