Robert Plant and the Middle Eastern Metal Blues

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Stadium shows are all well and fine, in the sense they provide fans a momentary sense of solidarity. It doesn't matter that you're packed in with thousands of complete strangers, or that the stage is light years away from you, or that the sound is so dissipated it might as well be a Martian broadcast. What matters is the event, and the "I was there!" bragging rights, along with the raggedyass tee-shirt you paid four prices for, and which dates you forever within a week of that drunken purchase. We've all been there, and we'll proudly proclaim 'til our dying breath, "That (fill in appropriate band) show was the best freakin' concert I ever saw!"

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To really appreciate an artist, though, you have to see them in a more intimate setting. Clubs, where the nuances of the music interact with audience reaction most intently, are the ideal venue. Smaller halls, particularly those with amphiteatre-style seating aren't quite as personal, but the acoustics in those environments, coupled with their casual atmosphere, nonetheless leave you with the sense you've witnessed a performance. And that stays in your memory a lot longer than a stadium show ever will.

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Robert Plant, especially during his Led Zeppelin days, did a lot of stadium shows. That's why Robert Plant and the New Sensation, his first-ever solo DVD release, is an unexpected pleasure. Originally aired 29 June 2006 as an installment of PBS's Soundstage concert series, this is a seamless performance that showcases Plant and his latest band, the Strange Sensation, in a relaxed environment.

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Plant and the band ease into the show with a Middle East-inspired version of "No Quarter," heavy on accoustic, dreamy percussion and loping rhythms. If it comes across as a bit stately, it's because it quietly sets the tone for the rest of the concert. This is a show that moves at its own pace, unfettered by preconceived expectations. Sure, the obligatory Zeppelin tunes are in there, but sprinkled judiciously between tunes mostly from his Mighty Rearranger album. The version of "Black Dog" here sounds familiar, but the arrangement takes the song into new territory.

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At heart, Plant has always been a blues singer, and throughout the concert, he works that aspect of his talent into all of the material. While some say he can no longer hit the high notes he did in Zep's glory days, I'm inclined to believe his voice has evolved into something closer to the source influences. Either way, he can still belt out a tune better than most. He no longer need to hit the high registers to prove a point--his stylings are rife with authority. A listen to, say, "Gallows Pole" will dispel any doubts to the contrary.

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A singer is only as good as his band, though, and the Strange Sensation may be the best group of musicians Plant has worked with in his solo career. Clive Deamer (drums) and Billy Fuller (bass) are a formidable rhythm section, often enhanced by Justin Adams on the darbouka. Adams, like Plant is fascinated with the music of Northern Africa and the Middle East, and is largely responsible for the dreamily exotic sound inherent in the show. He balances it with some amazing blues guitar riffs, especially on the intro to "Whole Lotta Love." John Baggot (keyboards) and Skin Tyson (guitar) counterpoint the exotic with straight out, unabashed rock runs.

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Ultimately, what this DVD does is paint a portrait of Robert Plant as an artist who is not content to relive his past triumphs. Sure, he acknowledges them with a respectful wink, but the focus of his solo work has always been to landmark new musical territory. His interest in Moroccan rhythms, coupled with his Celtic and blues influences, set him apart from most of his contemporaries. While Rod Stewart may be content to recycle questionable classics, Plant is more akin to Peter Gabriel in his approach to his music. Like Gabriel, Plant , with each new work, attempts to redefine his previous boundaries. And while he may not always be wholly successful, the journey is never anything less than interesting.

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Robert Plant and the Strange Sensation is a rarity in concert videos. Largely because of the Soundstage format, the viewer has a sense of closenes with the performers. But it's Joe Thomas's direction that enhances the "live" aspect of the program. A total of eleven cameras, including a gib mount and a steadicam, film the entire event, and Thomas intercuts the various angles with an artisan's eye.

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If I have any complaints at all, it's only that, at 66 minutes, it ends too soon. But what an incredible 66 minutes! I highly recommend it.

Dexter: Duplicity, Double Crosses and Double Wides

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Let's just say Dexter's life is in overdrive. The past two episodes, "Return to Sender" and "Circle of Friends", have shifted the emphasis from Dexter as Dark Avenger to Dexter as Serial Killer Covering His Tracks. The eyes peering from the broken trunk lock turned out to belong to a Cuban refugee child who, fortuitously enough for Dexter, spoke no English, and was still possessed with a dreamy sense of wonder.

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That shouldn't imply that Dexter was his usual cool and collected self in "Return to Sender." He spends most of the episode sweating bullets, as well he should, considering Valerie Castillo, the coyote wife he didn't have time to properly dispose of has resurfaced on the very killing table in the very trailer where she met her demise. While I said in the previous post bodies tend to not stay submerged forever, this was unexpected. Dexter quickly surmises that the Ice Truck Killer must have placed her back at the scene of the crime.

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For the first time, we see the usually unflappable Dexter begin to unravel, at least internally. "Nothing lasts forever," he muses. "Just ask a Ford Pinto." On the one hand, he's resigned to the fact that he, like all serial killers, will be caught. On the other, his predatory instincts convince him that he has a little more killing to do before that time comes. Complicating that is the fact that the Ice Truck Killer has seemingly double crossed him. What had been mutual, if twisted, admiration for each other's work has been transformed into a set-up to destroy Dexter.

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Deb isn't helping matters either, as she constructs a spot on profile of the dead woman's killer. Dexter knows it's a matter of time before he's found out, and his thoughts turn to Rita, and the effect it will have on her and the kids. Rita, meanwhile, gets a call from the ex, out of prison and wanting to reestablish ties with the family.

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Dexter doesn't know this, of course-- he's busy dumping the tools of his trade, and anything else that might expose him, into the deep blue. It's an oddly poignant moment, as we watch him fondly reviewing his slide collection. When he comes across Valerie's slide, he finds a smiley face has been etched into the blood. Dexter realizes that his "friend" has given him a hint as to how to extricate himself.

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Desperate times call for desperate measures, and even though it violates one of the tenets of Harry's Code, Dexter uses a bit of the blood to implicate the husband in her murder. Since he lies in pieces at the bottom of the ocean, he'll never be found. Dexter lives to kill again.

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But killing is not what Dexter is really about. The genius of the series lies in its ability to empathise with the emotions that drive Dexter. For someone who claims to feel nothing, he nonetheless involves himself in the lives of everybody who surrounds him. Sure, a case could be made that it's just part of a sociopathic nature, but it goes deeper with Dexter. As "Circle of Friends" illustrates, this is a character who desperately wants to connect, despite his inner dialogue to the contrary.

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Dexter has a lot on his plate this go-around. Deb and Angel have apparently tracked down the Ice Truck Killer, and it turns out he's a nondescript taxidermy hobbyist, who lives in an aluminum double wide mobile home. Dexter cannot believe this turn of fate, and neither can LaGuerta-- both expected something a bit more imposing from the notorious killer. Still, the suspect, Neil Perry, knows things only the Killer could know, including details on how he drained their blood. It's an airtight case, especially after a search of his double-wide uncovers photos of all the victims.

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As if that weren't enough, Jeremy, the teen murderer Dexter spared in Episode Three is back, and he hasn't heeded Dexter's admonishments. This time, he's killed a high school student because he wanted to "feel something different." Doakes and crew quickly arrest him, but before he's arraigned, he commits suicide. Taken out of context, this would be only filler, but the scenes between Dexter and Jeremy, dialogues centering on the isolation and emptiness they have in common, subtly advance the direction the direction the series appears to be heading.

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Meanwhile, Rita's ex, Paul, has returned, and is determined to reestablish his role as the "alpha male" in the kids' lives. Given that he is a wife abuser, this means his agenda is to reestablish his role as a wife beater, as well. Rita knows this full well, and mutters she wishes he would "just go away forever." Since Dexter has already bent Harry's Code, that could very easily happen before the season's end.

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Early on in this episode, there's a seemingly throwaway scene in which a party is thrown for Tucci to celebrate his newly acquired artificial limbs. I say "seemingly" because nothing is throwaway in Dexter. We're introduced to the doctor who fitted Tucci with the prostheses, and learn that his mother lost both legs in an auto accident. He wanted to put her back together, "but the pieces wouldn't fit." Deb finds him fascinating, as do we, but for different reasons.

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Despite all the evidence against Perry, I think it's safe to assume he's not the Ice Truck Killer. In a cliffhanger ending, Dexter finally confronts his alleged nemesis. Perry looks at him blankly, and says, "Who the fuck are you?"

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With only five more episodes left before the end of the twelve episode run, the tension is building. We know Dexter will preservere, since Showtime has announced the series will be back for a second season. In the meantime, things are getting--pardon the pun--dicey.

How to Revive a Dinosaur

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These are trying times for NBC. Only a couple of years ago, the network was the undisputed Goliath among the broadcast TV networks, with shows like Friends, ER, Frasier and the various Law and Order franchises dominating the prime time ratings. Of late, though, NBC has fallen to third place on the ratings totem pole, below CBS and ABC. And while new seies such as the phenomenal Heroes may signal a reversal of the network's fortunes, execs there are conceding "must see TV" ain't what it used to be.

Last month, NBC announced sweeping realignments that included major cutbacks in their news department, as well as a shift in their primetime strategy. The opening 8PM (EST) slot will be relegated to game shows along the lines of Deal or No Deal, and low cost reality series. It's a risky gambit at best. While lower cost programming may increase ad revenue in the short term, it could place the Peacock in a precarious position. By eliminating sitcoms and dramas from the opening slot, the network may find itself scrambling for a series potent enough to stand on its own without a strong lead-in.

NBC Universal remains undaunted, however. Their new business plan, dubbed NBCU 2.0, recognizes the limitations of broadcast TV in the new landscape of ad revenue, and refocuses the network's direction to the frontier of digital distribution. “Success in this business means quickly adjusting to and anticipating change. This initiative is designed to help us exploit technology and focus our resources, as we continue our transformation into a digital media company for the 21st century,” said Bob Wright, chairman and CEO of NBC U, in an official press release.

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A part of that transformation was the November 9 launch of DotComedy, a broadband channel drawing on NBC's "rich heritage of comedy," according to Jeff Gaspin, President, NBC Universal Cable Entertainment, Digital Content and Cross-Network Strategy. ( I have to wonder. . . can he actually remember that entire title?) While the content of the site is hardly groundbreaking, it may afford a glimpse into the future of network television. All the networks, including the basic cable outlets such as Comedy Central and the Cartoon Network, have utilized the Internet to promote their product for some time now, even offering full episodes of series via the Web. But with DotComedy, NBC Digital has upped the ante, offering original programming exclusive to the Internet.

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I've been casually poking about DotComedy for the past week, and it looks promising. Mind you, I said promising, not great. True, it does offer some original programming, ranging from the puerile ("Double Dragon") to the slapstick ("Easter Bunny Begins") to the outright funny "The Quest for Length") in its "Digital Shows" section. That's offset, though, by the "TV and Movies" page, which exists as a promo for SNL and upcoming Universal theatrical comedy releases. "Stand Up Straight" serves up, as one might expect, stand-up comedy clips, and "Totally Viral" is a smorgasboard of videos in the vein of YouTube. "Sitcom Flashback", I think, has the potential to lure repeat visits. Besides episodes of old standbys Leave It to Beaver and The Munsters, it goes deeper into the archives to offer episodes from cult classics like Dream On and Significant Others. There's also a "User Made" section, parked for now, vacant now, as it awaits submissions.

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Bearing in mind that DotComedy is taking its first faltering steps, it's not too shabby. NBC is promising more original content before year's end, as well as clips from David Letterman's years there, among other classic comedy from their extensive vaults. It's evolving, slowly but surely, as it updates daily. Its success or failure hinges on just how far the network execs are willing to take it. If they play it safe, DotComedy has little chance of succeeding. With bandwidth and time at a premium, Web users are unlikely to make the site a destination location. Done properly, however, it has the potential to pioneer the convergence of traditional and digital delivery of entertainment.

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That convergence, which has been talked about for years, but never realized, translates into an entirely new platform from which advertisers can hawk their wares. And it's something for which they've been clamoring for at least the past decade. The decline in profits that traditional broadcast and print media have fallen victim to can be directly attributed to their reliance on time-worn methods of doing business. By extension, it helps to explain why profits are down almost across the board for manufacturers and retailers nationwide.

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What NBC has done with DotComedy is open a new vista that could potentially have an unparallelled effect on media as we currently think of it. By putting their brand on a stand alone internet venture (albeit still a promotional tool for the parent company), they've taken the pioneering step of cross-referencing media. Whether DotComedy succeeds is almost irrelevant. A floodgate has been opened, and the convergence of media is set to sail.

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Does 3 Lbs Have Enough Weight to Make a Splash?

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Whatever else you might think about it, you have to admit 3 Lbs is an extremely cool title for a TV series. It's utilitarian, it's ambiguous and it's mysterious enough to pique your curiosity. And when you find out that the title refers to the average weight of the human brain, you're hooked, and all the producers of this series have to do is reel you in.

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Or maybe not.

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Actually, 3 Lbs was pitched to the networks for the 2005-06 season, but didn't make the cut. Apparently, it was a darker, more cynical pilot with Dylan McDermott in the lead role. That's not unusual. Producers frequently rework pilots to get the concept on the air. It worked for Star Trek, after all. 3 Lbs was re-written and recast, with Stanley Tucci replacing McDermott in the role of iconoclastic neurologist, and it was in the wings to be a midseason replacement.

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That was before the fiasco that was Smith left CBS scrambling for for a viable property to fill that prime time real estate. And so it is that 3 Lbs has been bumped up to a 14 November premiere.

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If this premiere episode is any indication, 3 Lbs may sneak in to become a sleeper hit. The set-up is simple: an idealistic neurosurgeon, Dr. Jonathan Seger (Mark Feuerstein), landing a job at a renowned neurological center, finds himself at odds with the hospital's chief, Dr. Douglas Hansen (Stanley Tucci). Hansen has a nuts and bolts approach to his work, often referring to the brain as "wires in a box." Seger, on the other hand, sees the brain in a more spiritual way.As a balancing point, Dr. Adrianne Holland (Indira Varma), who may or may not have been physically involved with Hansson, makes it clear that she finds Seger. . . intriguing.

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The plot of this episode, involving a teenage violinist with a brain tumor, is secondary to the dialogue between the three principals. This is a story that hinges more on the cerebral than the visual, more concerned with questions of ethics than splashy storytelling. It moves at a leisurely pace, unconcerned with the cliffhanger before the commercial break.

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Viewers expecting something akin to House will be surprised when they view 3 Lbs. Where the former takes a cavalier approach to the medical mystery, 3 Lbs focuses more on the frailty of the human element. It's more character driven than plot driven, and as such, it raises more than a few questions about motivations.

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If 3Lbs doesn't get bogged down in proseletizing, it has the potential to be a provocative series. The pilot sets it up nicely, and one can only hope it remains true to its principles.

The Pretenders Weren't Faking It.

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There was a club in Dallas in the eighties called the Agora. Before it was a venue for live music acts, it had been a dinner theatre-in the-round, which helps to explain its great acoustics and the fact that there was not a bad seat in the house. I saw a lot of bands there--Talking Heads, the Ramones, Iggy Pop, and on and on. But I never saw a band that could match the Pretenders for raw rock and roll exuberance.

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It was 1980, and Chrissie Hynde, along with James Honeyman-Scott (guitar), Pete Farndon (bass) and Martin Chambers (drums) were riding high on the runaway success of their debut album. The Agora was filled to its 1200 seat capacity when the Pretenders played that night, but it hardly mattered. As soon as the band took the stage, nobody was sitting anyway. And for the next two hours, the Pretenders proved the mettle of what had been committed to vinyl.

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The Rhino reissue of their debut LP, simply titled Pretenders, is a stunning reminder of how auspicious that first effort was. If there was one album that was the bridge between raw punk and the more melodious new wave, this was it. There had never been a band quite like the Pretenders, and certainly not one fronted by a woman. Sure, there were predecessors such as Patti Smith, who early on tapped into the punk sensibility, but no woman before Chrissie Hynde channeled that into head-on sexual awareness. Hynde could swagger with the best of the men, but her female perspective put her in a league of her own.

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Here, she alternately coos, snarls, teases and hisses her way through her vocal stylings, sometimes all on the same song. Particularly on "Precious", with its unforgettable exclamation "Not me, baby--I'm too precious--I had to fuck off!", and the raucous "Tattooed Love Boys", with its hard-edged look at groupie lifestyles, she makes it abundantly clear that she can express a full range of emotions, bemused sarcasm not the least of them.

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The original Pretenders lineup sounded like nobody else at the time. They were neither punk or pop, but managed to strike a chord that defied definition. Even their top forty singles "Brass in Pocket" and the Kinks cover "Stop Your Sobbing" have a sense of tension lurking just beneath the jangly pop surface. But it's on "Mystery Achievement," the album's finale, that the power and the cohesivenes of the band is most aptly demonstrated. Farndon lays down a pulsing bass line over Chambers' pounding beat to intro the song as Hynde slides into a simple rhythm riff supplanted by a vocal wail that segues into Scott's blazing lead guitar. The song jams and gains a dizzying momentum, yet never loses its anchor. It's a great jam, so tight and polished it still sends a chill through the listener. Sadly, the original Pretenders would only make one more album together. Both Scott and Farndon succumbed to the excesses of rock, and overdosed. Cocaine got Scott, and heroin took Farndon almost a year lear later.

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The Pretenders have gone through several incarnations, with Chrissie Hynde being the only constant in the makeup of the band. It was always, undeniably, her band anyway, but the groundbreaking magic of that debut album would never be surpassed. Pretenders was, and still is, one of those rare albums that happened at the perfect time with the perfect band with the perfect sound. Twenty-six years after its initial release, it still--how shall I put it?--kicks major ass.

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This reissue pays tribute to the original release, and expands on what was already a perfect album. It's been remastered, obviously, but lovingly so. Bill Inglot's production here adds a crisp, clean sound to Nick Cave's original without demeaning the original work. If anything, it enhances the individual players' performances.

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What really makes this version of Pretenders outstanding are the extras. Most notable of these is a second disc containing sixteen songs you won't find anywhere else. There are outtakes "Cuban Slide" and "Porcelain"), demo versions that add another layer to the evolution of a song, previously unreleased tracks (most notably the C&W "Tequila") and a blistering five-song live performance.

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Also enhancing this release are new liner notes chronicling the origins of the band, and, almost unheard of today, a lyric sheet. For the first time, we actually get to read what Chrissie Hynde was saying, and we find she knew how to write, on top of everything else. That tone of cynicism is offset by angst and longing, punctuated by resignation.

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Finally, there's the packaging itself. Rhino eschewed the the plastic jewel box in favor of a cardboard tryptich gatefold that neatly pockets the two discs and the booklet. As a result, the CD comes across more as an event than a reprint. It's a trend in CD packaging I'm seeing often of late, and I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner. Besides being infinitely more ergonomic than the jewel box, it makes you feel like you actually have an album.

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All that aside, Pretenders stands as one of the benchmarks of rock and roll. 1980 was a seminal year for rock--the Clash released London Calling, Peter Gabriel released is third eponymously

titled album (I call it "Melting Face"), and the Pretenders exploded from out of nowhere to change the shape of pop and rock forever.

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The Rhino reissue of Pretenders is essential listening for anybody with even a casual interest in the evolution of rock.

A Few That Almost Slipped through

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Regular readers may have noticed that I cover a lot of music here. The cool part of that is I get a lot of free music. A lot. The downside of it is I get a lot of free music. While I really try to review anything and everything worth mentioning, occasionally I get so inundated, some things get shuffled to a lesser priority than others. A number of factors weigh into this, but the main culprit is time--there are only so many hours in a day. Bare minimum, I listen to an album three times before even attempting to review it. And then there's my need to research the band.

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There's another factor at play, and it has nothing to do with the merits of a particular album. In my reviews, I attempt to cut through to the essence of the album, without talking it to death. My feeling is that the reader only wants to know if an album is worth their time and money-- not whether the artist may have a tie to an obscure French poet. As a result, some works, particularly EPs, don't lend themselves to a lengthy review.

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The eponymously titled EP by the Cat Empire is a case in point. If you haven't heard of the Cat Empire, you will soon. This Melbourne-based sextet are multi-platinum stars in Australia, and they're set to storm the States in early 2007, with the American release of Two Shoes. Recorded in Havana, Two Shoes fuses Latin rhythms, jazz, funk, hip-hop, barrelhouse blues, ska and rock into a miraculously cohesive whole. It's a #1 hit Downunder, and with good reason. For now, we Yanks have to be content to whet our appetites with this compilation teaser EP.

The six songs here are culled from their three Australian releases, and they're all winners. Think Madness, with reggae-style Clash sitting in, at a beach party, and you have a rough idea of their sound. Watch out for these guys.

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While they may have the worst band name in history, What Made Milwaukee Famous is actually a pretty good, albeit uneven, listen. Trying to Never Catch Up, their debut release on indie label Barsuk, is actually a remastered reissue of their 2004 self- release, for those keeping score of such trivialities. Like a lot of Austin bands, WMMF know their music on a technical level, and they showcase their technical expertise and influences just a tad bit too much.At some points, they sound like an eighties power pop band, at others, brooding artistes and at yet others, Bay area hippies. Still, most of the songs here hold up quite well individually. As a cohesive package, however, it's lacking. Chalk it up to artists searching for their voice. When it's all said and done, though, WWMF is going places, regardless of how much I hate that name.

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Persephone's Bees is a band name that rolls off the tongue a bit better (at least, for literary types.) Notes From the Underworld is an exuberant pop rock album that never strays far from its punk roots. Fronted by Russian-born Angelina Moysov, the Beeshave a sound that harken back to the heyday of eighties new wave, with a vibe that falls somewhere between the pop balladry of the Motels and the post-punk anthems of Siouxie and the Banshees, with a dash of Chrissie Hynde thrown in for luck. This is the core of rock-- guitar, bass, drums and vocals--played with a conviction that undermines any pop superficialities. Make no mistake about it--Persephone's Bees will be a breakout band in the coming months. Make that the breakout band.

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I've always said there's good music out there--you just have to look for it. In this case, I just had to listen to things that got buried in the clutter.

Darker than Dexter, Colder than the Ice Truck Killer

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Dexter Morgan, just like every other human on the planet, spends a lot of his time lying to himself. While most of us focus our self-delusions on our inherent goodness, Dexter ruminates on his self-imposed isolation from the rest of humanity. He likes to think he feels nothing, that he is incapable of feeling what other people feel. A large part of this was instilled by his foster father Harry, who saw Dexter as a tool through which he could, by proxy at least, train Dexter to vent his own frustrations.

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In "Love American Style," Dexter is forced to wrestle with the lie that drives him: namely, that he is devoid of the need to connect emotionally. Up to this point, he's been portrayed mostly as a merry prankster of mayhem, his singleminded devotion to his craft deftly played for dark humor. In the subtext of the plotline, however, there's always been a thread devoted to Dexter's understandable sense of isolation. After all, it's not easy to maintain mainstream appearances when your avocation is acting as an avenging angel.

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"Love American Style" brings that conflict to the fore, and takes the series into a more three-dimensional direction. Heretofore, the motives for Dexter's killings have been presented matter-of-factly--that one's a pedophile killer, this one's a snuff filmmaker, and so on. But with this episode, the series delves into the events that precipitate Dexter's grisly actions.

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More importantly, it scrutinizes one of the vilest, darkest and most overlooked aspects of illegal immigration-- the ugly trade of human trafficking, as practiced by the smugglers known as coyotes. Coyotes smuggle illegals into the States, for a hefty fee. Often, these would-be immigrants are never seen again. "Love American Style" explores this issue with a typically Dexteresque solution.

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When Rita asks Dexter to use his police connections to investigate the disappearance of a coworker's fiance, there is no doubt where the episode is headed. He immediately goes into Dexter the Stalker mode, and pieces together the evidence he needs to justify the coyote's untimely demise. Things get more complicated when he discovers at the last minute that the coyote's wife is the brains behind the scam. Together, they've drowned countless Cubans whose families could not pay the surprise transportation fee.

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Woven through this main line are the subplots and themes that make Dexter compelling. Tucci, mutilated but recovering, is the one solid lead the cops have on the Ice Truck Killer murders. Doakes and Deb are assigned to interview Tucci as part of the investigation. While Doakes is typically all business, Deb bonds with Tucci on a more human level. Doakes cautions her to put emotions aside, and deal with the questioning on a purely professional level. But Deb has always dealt with everything on an instinctive level, and here, it goes into an empathic level.

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Dexter's developing relationship with Rita is becoming the thread that may prove to be either his salvation or his ultimate undoing. As much as he tries to convince himself to the contrary, Dexter is in love with Rita, and his attempts to come to grips with this alien emotional state may be contributing to his carelessness of late. On the one hand, he seems more focused in adhering to Harry's Code at any risk. On the other hand, he's distracted by his new found need to lead "a normal life."

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All of this may explain the seemingly incongruous title of the episode. What "Love American Style" does is look at the various angles the word can bounce off of and still maintain its integrity. There is a scene near the end of the episode when Dexter asks the doome coyote couple how they've made their marriage last. "We do everything together," the wife replies. Indeed they do. Dexter sees to that.

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Love, as Dexter suspected at the episode's beginning, does complicate life--and death. His mission to avenge the illegals the coyotes had killed was complicated when it turned out he had two evildoers to eliminate. Consequently, he didn't have time to neatly cut the wife into pieces for disposal at sea. Whole bodies have a tendency to resurface, even when dropped indeep waters. "But sometimes you have to take a chance," he muses as he prepares to dispose of his victims.

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He has no idea what a chance he's taken. Somebody sees him loading the Hefty bags into the trunk of his car. We only see a moving eye watching from the trunk of a junked Mercedes. Is it a coincidence? Or is someone besides the Ice Truck Killer stalking Dexter? Either way, Dexter is poised to find his life becoming increasingly complicated.

If You have to Define It, You Ain't It

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Here is what it is. . .

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There are certain aspects of life that just are not meant to be defined by words. You know what it is when you encounter it, but it works on a level that words can't touch.

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The whole concept of "cool" is like that. In fact, cool is so cool that dictionaries often use the word itself to attempt to describe it. "Socially adept" doesn't quite cut it. A lot of people describe themselves as "cool", but those are people who don't have a clue as to what cool is. The people who are cool are. . . well, too cool to label themselves that way. When you're cool, other people already know it, so there's no need speak of it.

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Miles Davis never said he was cool. His music said it all.

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Cool and Collected is something of a soundbyte in relation to how his music defined jazz in the latter half of the twentieth century. But what a soundbyte it is! Focusing mostly on the work he did in the mid to late fifties with various incarnations of the Miles Davis Quintet, this compilation showcases some of the tunes that made Miles Davis the epitome of cool. "So What", arguably the tune that veered jazz away from bebop towards a more modal style, appropriately opens the album. In this 1959 version, Cannonball Adderly on alto sax and John Coltrane on tenor sax are also featured, as well as Bill Evans on piano, bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Johnny Cobb.

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Much of Cool and Collected centers around the triumvirate of Davis, Coltrane and Adderly. "Milestones," "Stella By Starlight" and "Fran-Dance" all showcase the three horn players bouncing scales off each other, and the interplay between them, nearly forty years later, still astounds. Between those four pieces alone, there's nearly 25 minutes of trumpet and sax swirling and dipping like the aural equivalents of birds at play.

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But it's when Davis and Coltrane play together on the Thelonious Monk classic " 'Round Midnight" that may be the single most telling moment of what made Miles so freakin' cool.

Here (and to a lesser extent, on "Bye Bye Blackbird") , we're reminded of an era when smoky, dimly lit bars were a sanctuary from the pressures of the middle class, and when mystery lay just beyond the next cocktail.

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While the bulk of Cool and Collected focuses on his cool jazz work in the fifties, it does offer a few glimpses of where Davis would later head. A young Herbie Hancock is featured on "Seven Steps to Heaven" (1963) , and the 1969 recording of "E.S.P." also features Wayne Shorter on sax and Ron Carter on bass. Particularly on the latter piece, we hear an inkling of the profound influence Davis had on the fusion movement that would be the driving force of jazz in the 1970's.

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No single album can encapsulate the work of a man whose career spanned nearly fifty years, especially in the case of someone like Miles Davis. He defied every convention placed before his vision, and for over forty years, he constantly redefined jazz. What Cool and Collected does is show us in snapshots how he rose to that stature. While I would have liked to see more seventies work, what's included here is a valuable primer as to how it all began.

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And how cool is that?

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The Politics of Passion...And Vice Versa

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A great film must, by necessity, strike a universal chord in the human consciousness. Otherwise, it's just an elaborate way to sell buttered popcorn. Citizen Kane was a great film. The Searchers was a great film. Bladerunner was a great film. The genre doesn't matter-- a great film speaks to the human condition.

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Reds: 25th Anniversary Edition is another reminder of what elevates a movie to "great film" status. Made in 1981, Reds was nominated for twelve Academy Awards, and won three, garnering Warren Beatty a Best Director honor, as well as earning Maureen Stapleton an Oscar as Best supporting Actress, and acknowledging Vittorio Sioraro's work for Best Cinematography.

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Despite its backdrop of communist ideaology at the dawn of the twentieth century, Reds is ultimately a story about the power and pratfalls of love and passion. The story of John Reed and Louise Bryant is not, in Beatty's vision, the tale of a couple of American communists, any more than his later Bugsy was a gangster story. Instead, Reds is an intimate love story set against of a tableau of epic proportions.

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The relationship between Reed (Beatty) and Bryant (Dianne Keaton) mirrors the tumultuous events of 1915-1921, beginning with America's tenuous involvement in World War I and culminating with the aftermath of Russia's Bolshevik Revolution. It's a complex, sprawling film with themes of idealism versus reality, personal sacrifice in the name of love, and disillusionment with the constraints of beuracracy, among others.

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Beatty's solution to tying all of this together was ingeniously simple. Rather than transition the myriad events going on in conventional cinematic terms, he stitched the film together whrough a series of interviews with Reed's contemporaries. Shot against a black background with a single light source, these "witnesses" serve as a framework who enrich the story's credibility. These are people who lived through the period, who knew Reed and Bryant and who aren't remotely hesitant to share their outrageously varying opinions. The lines in their faces trace a timeline of the routes America took--or could have taken--throughout the twentieth century. In the end, they show us that attitudes weren't that different in the early days of the twentieth century than they are now--they were just more discreet then.

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There are naysayers who will insist Reds is a platform for Warren Beatty to express his left-leaning viewpoint. Those people are wrong. They are borne of the same ilk who believe Citizen Kane was a sensational attempt to discredit William Randolph Hearst. True, both films are politically slanted to a degree, but by more necessity to drive the story than by personal agenda. In order to tell the story of Reed, Beatty had to focus on the protagonist's idealistic zeal towards worker's rights. But in the course of the film, we see that idealism slowly deteriorate as the aftermath of the Bolshevik Revolution take hold in Russia.

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Jack Nicholson's portrayal of Eugene O'Neill and Maureen Stapleton's version of Emma Goldman serve as counterpoints to any romanticism the film depicts regarding the early days of socialism. Visually, Reds is stunning, colored in landscapes seamlessly alternating from the pastoral to the cataclysmic, from Oregon autumns to Moscow winters.

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It took 25 years for Reds to be released as a full-featured DVD, in part because of Warren Beatty's reticence to be interviewed in depth for special features additions. He's always been an advocate of letting film speak for itself. He finally relented, thankfully. The special features on this disc, collectively titled "Witness to Reds", make for fascinating insights into the making of the film. "The Rising" focuses on the origins of the movie. "Comrades" offers insights into the concept of the witnesses as plot device. Other segments focus on the politics of the film, how it was cast, and problems in pre-production. In all, "Witness of Reds" is comprised of seven chapters. Combined, they are inspirational to students of the intricacies of filmmaking, as well as an entertaining companion piece for the casual viewer.

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At 3 1/2 hours, Reds is an epic film of the sort Hollywood doesn't make any more. This DVD release preserves it to the most minute detail, even including the "Intermission" tag from the theatrical release. Presented in its original 16:9 aspect ratio, with enhanced Dolby 5.1 sound, it recreates the experience of the moviegoing experience. Including special features, this edition serves up over six hours of entertainment.

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Reds: 25th Anniversary Edition is long overdue, but it's been worth the wait. It's a rare film that's provocative, historical, educational and still entertaining. Reds more than amply delivers at all levels.