Word: generics
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...creatively multilingual Seven Years in Tibet, Brad Pitt begs such a question, as he has his way with an allegedly Austrian accent through widespread and wanton application of generic "movie accent" elements like long vowels and rolled R's. Yet this phonetic plum pudding, a synthetic dialect of sorts, fits the story's cross-cultural spirit. Ultimately, the blooming of emotion that marks the central transformation of Pitt's character in the face of Tibetan culture makes an otherwise sappy moral and politically correct focus much more palatable...
Debussy's Preludes, Book One, comprised the entire second half of the recital. The generic eclectics of these 12 miniatures must have appealed to the amply-repertoired Pollini, who has recorded both Mozart and Stockhausen for Deutsche Grammophon. His technique was particularly well-suited to the fierce leaps and skips of the third prelude, "The Wind of the Plain." It was equally fun to watch him grab fistfuls of notes with such glorious abandon in "The Hills of Anacapri," the ending of which seemed contrived by Debussy to recall the final arpeggio of the earlier "Gardens in the Rain" from...
...album YES!!, perky indie-pop superstar-in-his-own-mind Chris Knox comes up with creative, energetic ways to explore mediocrity as an art form unto itself. Rather than seek out new musical territory, Knox revels in cliched, annoying formulas slapped together to form a pastiche of generic major chord mayhem. YES!! does succeed in pushing limits--for instance, those of compact disc space capacity. Knox man-ages to pack more than 70 minutes of his special brand of grating, '80s-obsessed, painfully simplistic pop stylings onto a single disc...
...problem of finding beats to match his visual and lyrical audacity. There aren't enough great songs like the current mega-hit "Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See" to overshadow the number of tunes in which the production-done mostly by the Flip Mode Squad-is generic, lagging behind Busta in all his revved up Tasmanian devil glory. When Disaster Strikes, although getting off to an excellent, outrageous start with a monologue from Rudy Ray Moore (a.k.a. Dolemite), is ultimately an uneven album. The album sways between lackluster tracks that never reach the complexity or achieve the manic...
...does deliver some striking images. But as in so many debut features, the script attempts to take on too much, sacrificing narrative focus for stylistic flair. What starts out as a younger, less bleak '50s version of After Dark My Sweet quickly turns into a meandering hodgepodge, alternating between generic buddy flick (obligatory scene in which cool guy teaches socially inept guy how to dress and impress the ladies) and violent cowboy soap opera. There's nothing wrong with genre fusing or having characters whose individual stories could constitute an entire script in themselves, but this film does it sloppily...