![]() ![]() Their songs tackle war, genocide, American empire, organized religion, media bias, government control - the type of stuff you expect to hear from a leftist professor, not a rock band. And contrary to the hormone-crazed butt-rock boasts of the nu-metal bands suddenly dotting the culture, or the weepy, woe-is-me chugging of the post-grunge bands still trying to cash in after the end of Nirvana, these guys are deep. Serj Tankian, the singer, looks like a madman, only his hard-rock scream frequently eases up to reveal a soulful baritone - right before the music breaks back into anarchic free-for-all. Consider this: It’s the mid-1990s and four Armenian Americans from Los Angeles start a band, playing a fermented style of heavy metal that draws deeply from the traditional music of their homeland. We were just being ourselves,” System of a Down guitarist Daron Malakian tells me by way of explaining how weird his band was. I saw it 3 times.System of a Down during the “Chop Suey!” video shoot at the Hollywood Area Hotel. A generous vanity project to be sure, but still, I tend to feel somehow duped or guilty if I overly enjoy watching such blatant narcissism. I would give this film a full ten out of ten if it didn't feel so much like a vanity project. I thought the underwater shots of swimming dogs and boys in gowns, or the boys sleepy in the back seat of a car, black and white film stock creamy, movement slowed to a languid, trippy pace, invited a more sparce aural accompaniment, images lingering slightly longer. That's the way it's supposed to be." I longed for quiet in some of the more lyrically poetic image sequences. Weber practically comes right out with his infatuation for Peter Johnson, telling the story of a parallel gay editor/straight model relationship, ".nobody loved you better." Then in the narrative, ".sometimes we photograph what we're afraid we missed." "Chop Suey" wants to keep history alive while extolling keeping history alive as told through a survivor in a 31 year lesbian partnership, "I thought I lost my best friend, but I have all these photos and memories and she's still with me. ![]() It's slightly embarrassing to watch the young Wisconsin father sit through old stories told by aging queens, until he whips out the atrocious aplomb apparent in his still photos by dancing with a big black poodle. Still, Johnson is not exactly a presence to be reckoned with, though his modeling is clearly in the heart-stopping/stellar range. The book "Chop Suey Club," already a collector's item, is so obviously a labor of love, and the movie lets us in on some of Peter Johnson's allure and charm. Johnson is alternately the direct subject and the audience for the stories in Chop Suey. ![]() (A man/boy with two names for "penis," though that cheap joke shortchanges his phenomenal looks and carriage.) Mr. And, oh yeah, he shares Peter Johnson with us. Weber's unerring eye for beauty and culture are pleasantly shared, as is his fantastic photo collection, his historic archival footage with the likes of Diana Vreeland, editor of Vogue magazine, the slacker surfing champions that are "Nixon's Neighbors," an obscure English adventurer, and his own personal and professional anecdotes. His previous subjects were the jazz "great" (my own anti-jazz bias) Chet Baker and the obscure if not downright lost film "Backyard Movies" that I've lusted after since seeing it one bleary night in Minneapolis, when, 1992? Mr. This is a lush and sometimes loud film by the photographer who brings you the A&F catalogue every 3 months, Bruce Weber.
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