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New Year’s Eve blows. Seriously, stop pretending that this night is fun. The whole idea of The Real Chicago is to tell you what’s real, and we all know that New Year’s Eve blows. Every year the bars sell us some rip-off package that has you fighting some amateur-hour boozer for all-you-can-drink, watered-down well drinks and all-you-can eat celery sticks within the 20 minutes the deal lasts, all for a cool $600. And don’t get me started about the entertainment.
This year, there’s a glimmer of hope. The popular new indie rock scene must be making money — evidenced by the fact that Chicago actually has some quality bands playing live this New Year’s Eve. I mean, real bands.
Gone are days when the only options were the BoDeans, Mike and Joe, or some concert hosted by radio’s Eric and Kathy. This year we have Wolf Parade, The New Pornographers, even The Changes.
And for those beloved Mike and Joe fans who frequent the city from Palatine to see them jam a pub, I’m not dissing them. I spent a joyful New Year’s Eve watching them a few years ago at the Rainbow Room (remember the Rainbow Room on Foster? WGCI used to have ca-ca-crazy roller rink parties there).
Anyway, that night resulted in me on the ground with a maniacal drunk on top of me — I had my fingers in his eyes, and he was biting my wrist. It wasn’t kinky. It was bloody. But memorable nonetheless.
However, Chicago is big, and hip, and deserves top talent ringing in our New Year. Here are some recommendations:
• Pitchfork Presents 10.0: 10th Anniversary Bash. The geniuses at www.pitchforkmedia.com have scheduled a Dec. 30 concert with The Books and Diplo as a precursor to its New Year’s party. The Books rarely bring their visual arts and experimental sound on tour, so consider this a big booking. And Diplo is the hottest DJ in the city. The concert is at 8 p.m. at The Viaduct Theatre (3111 North Western Ave.). Cost is $20.
On New Year’s Eve, Pitchfork lined up Wolf Parade, along with Blood on the Wall and Jason Forrest. Wolf Parade
is continually compared to the sensational Arcade Fire. Not sure I agree with the comparison, but the band’s debut album, “Apologies to the Queen Mary,” is special. Chicago’s lucky to have the opportunity to see them on New Year’s. The concert is 8 p.m. at The Viaduct Theatre. Again, $20.
• New Pornographers at The Metro (3730 N. Clark St.). Doors open at 9 p.m. The price is $60, but you’re getting music from the band that pretty much started all that talk about how great Canada’s music scene is. Pick up the band’s album, “Twin Cinema.” It’s one of the year’s best.
• The Changes with special guests to be announced at Schuba’s (3159 N. Southport). Concert begins at 10 p.m. for only $15. This local band has brewed quite a following. They just got finished playing with Ted Leo for crying out loud.
• On the film front, “Capote.” This is my big push to get people to go see this movie. The film seems to be marketed as this small, arthouse movie fueled by Philip Seymour Hoffman’s performance as Truman Capote, the eccentric writer of “In Cold Blood.” No one can write a word about this movie, other than the fact that, “Hoffman is destined for Oscar gold,” or some shit like that.
But I want it to be known that, beyond anything else, this is a classic movie. It has an excellent sense of period, the actors become the roles and the narrative doesn’t let go of you. It’s a complete movie, and Hoffman is destined for an Oscar. I said it, but he really is funny and depressing in this flick.
• “Brokeback Mountain.” At first, this film offended me. By casting Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhall — two magazine cover boys — to play gay cowboys, it seemed like a ploy to get Oprah’s audience into the theater. Didn’t wring genuine to me.
But with Ang Lee attached, and that scene in the trailer alone when they embrace in reunion, I’m there. Also, when I see the trailer, I think Steve Francis and Cuttino Mobley. Unless you’re a basketball fan, this will fly over your head, but this film is begging for one of those popular, modern black remakes starring Nick Cannon about the hidden relationship of the NBA’s Francis and Mobley.
• “TransAmerica” and “Breakfast on Pluto.” Continuing this thread of sexual confusion, two transgender films hit theaters this month. Nothing beats a good transgender movie, does it?
First, “TransAmerica” stars our favorite desperate housewife, Felicity Huffman, as a male-to-female transsexual. It appears she stole the ears her husband (William H. Macy) used in the TV movie “Door to Door” for this role, and that’s about the only transition she makes other than a deep voice. But the film looks darkly funny as the character reconnects with his/her son.
The other film, “Breakfast on Pluto,” looks like a surefire winner. It is from director Neil Jordan, who filmed the transgender classic “The Crying Game,” and writer Patrick McCabe. Jordan and McCabe did a movie called “The Butcher Boy” in 1997, which I loved and is a must rent. “Breakfast on Pluto” stars Cillian Murphy, who is a future star, playing a transvestite cabaret singer in the ’60s. Like “TransAmerica,” the film is a comedy. Yet coming from the “Butcher Boy” filmmakers, “Breakfast on Pluto” will undoubtedly have a fun craziness to it, and be equally moving. Here’s to high expectations.
• “Pride & Prejudice,” “Bee Season,” “Walk the Line.” Should you still find “Pride & Prejudice in theaters, I found this Jane Austen retread to be most agreeable. Keira Knightley — and her high cheekbones and 64 teeth — stars in the film, spending the first half hour giggling, but the movie does become undeniably enjoyable. “Bee Season” is another recommendation. It’s a smart, awkward film that gave me chills. If you’re planning on seeing the Johnny Cash film, walk the line to another movie. Don’t believe the hype — it’s the same crap. Guy is blessed with talent, drinks a lot, does drugs, cheats on family. We learn nothing about him.
• Download of the week: “Hold Hands and Fight” from The Rosebuds’ album “Birds Make Good Neighbors.” We borrow so much music today that albums are continually thrown upon us. It’s great. Among all the music, some singles grab us from bands that are pretty much unknown. This month for me it’s The Rosebuds. The album I can’t fully recommend. I like it, but don’t love it. The lead track, though, comes highly recommended.
• Other concerts: If you’re dying to stay up late and listen to music for three straight days, this is the lineup:
Caribou, Dec. 9 at Subterannean.
The Earlies, Dec. 10 at the Empty Bottle.
Iron&Wine/Calexico, Dec. 11 at The Congress Theatre.
Please send me feedback (danochwat@hotmail.com) on movies, music, books, plays, how crappy this column is, anything. The more interactive, the better.