The Sunday Soapbox – The Box

Howdy, you beautiful carbon units typing on ergonomic keyboards and sipping chai-lattes with demerara sugar that is both ecofriendly and fairtrade and recyclable. It is me, Orestes P. Coltrane Xistos (P is for Pisstake) and I welcome you with open arms (and a Turk-slaying knife) to this new edition of The Sunday Soapbox.

Today’s rant: Richard Kelly‘s The Box.

This impressive film was released in 2009. Directed by pincushion’ed Richard Kelly (why the hate for him, Internets?), it tells the story of a couple with money troubles. This couple (played by Cyclops and that waif from The Mask) get a visit from a disfigured stranger (Dracula!) who offers them a little box (not an Xbox, though) that has a single button (told you it’s not an Xbox). The box can make them rich. Very rich. Bill Gates rich.

The catch? If you press the button, you get moolah but someone snuffs it. That’s not odd, that’s what politicians do every day: get paid millions while the rest of us bugger off to the Great Gig in the Sky (opening act: Venom).

So, you’ve got excellent performances from everyone around. James Rebhorn plays that part he knows so well, James Mardsen and Cameron Diaz do a subtle turn that fits their personas perfectly (actually felt a lot of sympathy for Diaz‘s character) and Frank Langella is top notch. 

Add to the performances the lovely camera tricks by Steven Poster and Richard Kelly‘s typical whatthefuckery and you’ve got a groovy dooby film that secretes style, firmly represents the 70s (muscle cars!) and keeps a lot of the original spirit of Richard Matheson (the true father of Sci Fi) while adding his usual weirdness (and I for one love him for it!).

But all of these factors would amount to nil-o-nada if we didn’t have something extra and unsettling to accompany the filmed product. I’ve mentioned the look and feel of vintage 70’s paranoia/sci fi film, so the last ingredient required is: Music.

And lo and behold all that’s beavery and mapley (eh?), the score is done by none other than Win Butler, Régine Chassagne  and Owen ‘hubba hubba!’ Pallet. Yup. Two of the people from “A band I don’t rate” and an underrated genius pulled a fantastic album, with trickery, soundscapes and eeriness all over there for your aural pleasures.

After seeing The Box, I had three thoughts in my tiny mind:

  1. That was fucking awesome.
  2. Where can I buy the soundtrack?
  3. Who spiked my nachos?

So, yeah, the soundtrack. Well, the band first said they scored it. Then, ah, mierda peluda, no, they deny it. Then it got muddy. Okay, they did score it. So says The Guardian and, oh, the motherflippin’ poster! If only there was something more solid about them writing it…

“80 minutes of lush orchestrations”. GIMME GIMME. What? The band will release it when they are ready to release? Okay, okay, take your time. *Checks cow-clock*. Oh, after the new album, called The Suburbs. Fine.

So…two versions of The Suburbs. Fair enough, go on, go on… waiting for that score and… Oh, for fudge’s sake! GET OFF YOUR HOUSTON-BRED, CANADA-AHOYING ass and release it. C’mon, I’ll pay for it. Buy the vinyl! Buy more copies of The Box. I will even hug you and take you to a baseball game since you like them so much!

Why, Win??? Why do I have to keep buying all those editions of The Suburbs to pay for your hair gel addiction? Do you need the money so Régine can have more twirly hair? Did Owen Pallett buggered off with the money to buy some tacos, tequila and poutine? I remember reading that you said the soundtrack would come out after your new album. Well, The Suburbs and The Suburbs 2: Electric Boogaloo have already hit the shelves but I and my fellow obsessive-compulsive pals are still waiting for this magnificent soundtrack to be released.

Not being sarcastic at all. The soundtrack is beautiful, it made the film perfect, gave it that extra punch of intensity and mystery (‘Arlington’) that made me feel I was actually watching a perfect vintage 70’s film (only missing supersexy James Caan). ‘Gudenov Arlington’ is another perfect piece. C’mon, brah!

So, please, stop singing like José José and release this album, heck in a pritt stick, do what those gods called 65daysofstatic did and do a Kickstarter / IndieGogo campaign, then it’ll be a limited run, the people who really want it will pay through the nose and I’ll shut my douchebaggery for ever and ever.

And for the record, Neon Bible is magnificent. I drink milk with maraschino cherries every time I hear it (on tape, of course) while I weep for the greener pastures of Lomas Verdes.

But seriously, get it out! And if it’s because of the label, tell them to kiss my keister.

Yours truly

Orestes P. Xistos

Writer non-extraordinaire, troll extraordinaire, peaceful cow, leader for The Cult of Cowdonia (join us!)






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