Turnover: The Next Big Thing in Pop Punk

By Spence Blazak

This article was featured in September 27, 2012 Edition of the Daily Targum. I fixed it up a little bit for the blogosphere.....Enjoy!

One of music’s many great powers is the association it can hold with memory. People hear “I’ll Be There for You” by The Rembrandts and are brought back to watching Friends in the early 2000’s, and many people still can’t listen to “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by The Beach Boys because of all the past loves it dredges up in their memory. Then there is music that does something even more, and that is where Turnover comes in.

            

Turnover’s music is, as Kobe Bryant would say “a different animal, but the same beast.” Upon first listen, their song “Sasha” will bring you back to those high school days of smoking cigarettes in the Krauszer’s parking lot and talking about how your parents don’t “get” you, as well as reminding you of the girl you confessed your love for while the song was playing. This is the point where you realize, “I’ve never heard this song before….” It brings up feelings of nostalgia where there never were any before. That’s powerful song writing, especially for a band of kids under 20.

            

Turnover hails from Virginia Beach, Virginia and was incepted in 2009. The band members’ ages range from 18-20, and this past spring, pictures were put on their Facebook page of the younger ones graduating. So far, they have released a self-titled 5-song EP as well as a split EP with the band Citizen, and have yet to give their fans a subpar song.

            

The band’s sound is pop punk for people who don’t like pop punk. It consists of guitar riffs and chord progressions that sound like more than just rhythmic structure (which can sometimes happen in the pop punk genre), as well as vocals that take themself seriously, lacking the usual pop punk whine.

            

The lyrics are passionate and filled with the vigor and feeling that one wants from the genre. In “Solitude”, one of their two singers yells, “Tired of driving through the night/Stinging eyes and my knuckles clenched to white.” Filled with empathetic yearning and accessible pain, the mood continues on “Sasha”: “I thought you meant it when you said forever/ I guess that was a lie/ I still get choked up when I think of you/ It happens all the time.”

            

The band’s Facebook page has been hinting at “something big” coming along soon, which, for Turnover faithful, hopefully means that a full length LP is soon on the horizon. Only time will tell, and you can keep tabs on the band on Facebook, on Twitter @turnoverva, and turnoverva.tumblr.com. Make sure you remember the name Turnover, because they are about to shake up the scene. 

The Master: Review

By Spence Blazak

            Why do people actually join cults? It is a question that always lingers in our minds whenever a cult is featured on the news or when Tom Cruise jumps on a coach while talking about how pain doesn’t exist. There are plenty of answers: the person could be sick, coming off a traumatic hardship, or hurt and in need of a life line. Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master utilizes all of these motivations under a unifying and relatable theme for all people: when life kicks you down, you need an answer, and sometimes anything will do.

The Master follows the story of Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), a sex obsessed sailor trying to make his way after the end of World War II. At first finding work as a mall photographer, Freddie’s alcoholism, Hulk-level anger issues, and mental illness soon get him fired and out on the road.

Freddie goes through a few odd jobs before stowing away on the boat of Lancaster Dodd (Phillip Seymour Hoffman). A doctor, writer, boat captain, philosopher, and scientist, Dodd has given himself the nickname “Master.” He has written and begun giving out copies of his book called The Cause, an idea that can be as much or as little like Scientology as your interpretation desires, and brings Freddie on board the crew of this new “religion” he is trying to spark.

With the release of The Master, we have several interesting exterior factors that are pumping up the hype surrounding its release. Writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson’s last movie, 2009’s There Will Be Blood was considered by many esteemed critics to be among the decade’s best films, and The Guardian just ranked him as the best working director in the world. Also at play is the anticipation of Joaquin Phoenix’s return to film after his highly publicized stunt where he claimed that he was retiring from the acting business to grow a beard and become a rapper. To each his own.

Anderson’s camera makes no mistakes and doesn’t rely on any accidents for the beauty of its shots. In the opening few shots of Freddie on the beach, the background is filled with sailors wandering adrift on the beach, the hot off-white sand, and the lucid blues of the ocean. His camera focuses in and out on multiple focal points within the same shot, truly never wasting a single one. He retains his spot as one of the most aesthetically pleasing art house directors in the business.

The acting throughout is phenomenal, in particular by both Phoenix and Hoffman whose names will be thrown around quite a lot this upcoming Oscar season, but the real mastery here is how interesting the characters they portray are. The first moment you see Hoffman’s Master on screen, he is dancing in the background of a shot focused on Phoenix, yet the energy he gives off is so overpowering that it is really the only fitting way to introduce a character so larger than life.

As far as the character of Freddie, he is the key to interpreting the film. The last shot brings everything full circle, and to get to the bottom of what everything means, walking in Freddie’s shoes and throwing him a bone of empathy finishes off what is a powerful film going experience.

The moment that keeps being flashed back to is Freddie on the beach in the Pacific with a sand castle shaped like a woman. For some reason, him with his arm around her keeps being shown again and again, and that is where the film’s heart lies. What does Freddie want? Someone to love him, respect him, and most importantly, tell him what to do. The cult itself is his woman in the sand. When people point out the ideological flaws in the cult’s structure, Freddie doesn’t know how to react and simply beats them up. He doesn’t want to admit to himself how insane the cult is. He just wants a purpose.

The Master isn’t the reach of near cinematic perfection that Paul Thomas Anderson’s previous works were, and its long run time can be a bit trying at points, but all in all, once the Oscar season really gets going, The Master will be near the front of the pack.

If Winter’s Bone is a two-and-a-half star-er, and There Will Be Blood is a four star-er, then The Master gets three-and-a-half stars. 

Spence Vs. The Rutgers Bus System (SPOILER: He loses)

By Spence Blazak

I don't ask for much out of my life. I just want a Diet Coke every day, to go to outer space at some point, meet Taylor Swift, and date a Kardashian for six weeks. I'm just like any other red blooded American male. Something that has been holding me back from this Gatsby-esque American Dream is the Rutgers Bus System.

I hate the bus. Hate, hate, hate it. Hearing its growl down the street makes me feel like the Grinch when he hears the Whos down in Whoville on Christmas Eve. Today, fair Wookiee fans, it is your lucky day. In the average week, I get a wide array of bus horror stories that are generally just heard by either my roommates or the sorry sacks of crap that happen to be right next to me when I get off of a EE. I yell these yarns. Frequently. And without further ado….a week in the life of a public transportation slave.

-------THE GREENHORN

I have perfected my game face for the bus. I don't want you to talk to me, and dammit, you aren't going to. Sadly, the average freshman greenhorn hasn't gotten a hold of this concept yet. Sitting, listening to Maroon 5, and minding my own P's and Q's, a pointed digit taps me on the deltoid. I lower my headphone, making my best Squidward face, wondering what I could be needed for. 

"Can I sit here?"

What.

I respond: "….Knock yourself out"

The rest of the bus was empty.

-----SON OF THE GREENHORN 

I am sitting, waiting for the accursed Busch/Cook Express Bus (the REXB) at a Busch Bus Stop. My iPod is pumping "California Love" by 2Pac, so I'm feeling pretty awesome. Then, a kid taps me on the shoulder. 

Kid: "Yo, boy, do ya think I can, uh, catch one of those REXL buses here?"

The Livingston/Cook Express……he is asking me if you can get on one at Busch……

Me: "You'll see."

-----THE D-BAG FLIRT

I find myself, yet again, on the EE. A frat bro with surfer dude sunglasses and a LAX pinnie sits next to me. He starts flirting with the girl in front of him by nervously saying "You're in my Bio class, right?" I give him 75 seconds to blow it. I then look at his personalized pinnie name………..It says "MEATSPIN." In the words of my catchphrase that I'm trying to make stick, now I've seen everything. 

On a side note, he blows it in about 58 seconds.

-----THE ROTC FLIRT

My iPod dies, and I'm stuck reading Catching Fire. Behind me, a kid starts flirting with a girl. Innocent enough, except that they are both yelling their conversation, and I can't help but listen to the entirety of it for the 15 minute bus ride back to my apartment. I hear everything about their major, their opinions on sports, how the guy lives in Woodville in South Jersey, how the girl is from East Bumble, Pennsylvania, and how they both enjoy Michael Jackson. At one point there girls says: "I didn't want to live on College Ave, because why would I want to shit where I eat?" May God have mercy on this generation.

I want to put a pen in my leg by the time I get off. 

Flashforward 3 days. I'm waiting at the bus stop for the EE, but it will be a few minutes. After a moment or two, a kid next to me, seeing my ironic 2012 NFC Championship long sleeve tshirt, asks me for the conclusion of the Big Blue game the night before.

"Oh, uh, it ended with 41-34 in favor of the Giants. Great game."

"Ah, shit, I'm an Eagles fan, but good for you."

Pushing down my immediate hatred, I realize that his voice sounds familiar…….hmm, curious. 

He then goes on to tell me about his hometown: Woodville, New Jersey. He asks if I've ever heard of it, and I say yes. Surprised, he inquires where I had heard of the small town.

I then have a dramatic and gargantuan flashback……..I had heard it from HIM on the bus a few days before. I tell him: "uh……sports….." My world just got way too small.

He then goes on to talk about sports with me, and I'm just waiting for him to tell me all the things I heard him say to that girl: he likes the Flyers and doesn't like baseball because there isn't enough contact. He says EXACTLY this. I'm living in a Twilight Zone episode. 

We get to his stop and he departs, but I will never forget this time when I, Spence Blazak…..knew the future. I should have gotten some lottery numbers.

This post is dedicated to my friend Ruthie on her birthday, someone whose hatred for the bus system really and truly knows no bounds. In a beautiful way.

The Week I Got Sick...and Conquered the World

By Spence Blazak

I believe it was the philosopher Descartes who once said, "To be sick is human, to be sick and play NCAA 13 is divine." I think that was him….or maybe he was the guy who said "one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, FLOOR." Who knows.

The last week of summer: the stuff of legend and the setting for many an American Pie sequel. On my friend Dave's last night in town, I got a bad case of the sick, entrapping me in the deep recesses of my domicile. I had six days before I flew south for the winter and returned to Rutgers.

And so began the tale of the five things I did during the week i didn't leave my house.

5. Top Chef

-I wake up at 6 AM, hallucinating that there is an otter in my bed. I kick it off, before realizing it is my kitten. I then stare at the wall for 45 minutes, in a sick daze. I make my move to the living room and decide to turn on my new television obsession: Bravo reality shows.

Crossing my fingers, hoping, praying that Million Dollar Listing: Los Angeles will be on, I frown as I see the opening graphic for Top Chef: Texas. Then my life stops. Maybe its the ibuprofen, but I'd like to think its from Padma Lakshi's glorious face: her slender facial structure, her chocolate brown eyes, the way she tells some Asian guy his souflet is shit. Then I pass out. I wake up hours later in the middle of another episode, where the Asian guy is voted off. I sit and ponder how he lasted this long. Hm. Another mystery.

4. The Republican National Convention

-I watch all 4 hours of Morning Joe's coverage of the RNC pre game show. They have very little to talk about aside from a single clip of Mitt Romney walking into his hotel saying "I think the convention will be great!" This clip is played 8 times before I go back to sleep.

3. Analyze The Hunger Games

-Since I can only watch so much of Mitt Romney saying nothing, I decide to turn to a copy of the novel The Hunger Games. Looking for a way to spice it up a little bit, I keep a close eye for typographical errors. After finding two, I no longer feel like a man…..but a god! A very sick god.

2. Read a sad forum on Grantland

-For those of you who don't know Grantland, imagine this blog, but it came out a few weeks after W.W…..and they are actually successful. Last week, they did a poll about what was the best sequel of all time. Pretty standard fare, until a mailbag was introduced where people tried to determine if Silence of the Lambs was a sequel to Maneater or a stand alone work. It was easily 3,000 words long, and I, Spence Blazak, sacrificed my dignity by reading the entire thing. It was neck beard vs neck beard, with all contributors probably sending in their witticisms via the desktop in their mom's garage. I've truly seen the bottom of the world.

1. Won the Heisman

-The greatest accomplishment of the week, indubitably. Renting NCAA 13 for Xbox from the library (you read that correctly), I was on a mission from God to win the Heisman in Heisman mode. You can take one of a select group of former trophy winners and put them on any school you want. Since Tim Tebow had to be paid for, I put off my dream a little longer of putting Timmy on Morehead State and riding the glory train to a Rose Bowl victory. Instead, I put Robert Griffin III on Rutgers.

I play through virtually the whole season before reaching the sad conclusion that I am in third place for Heisman voting behind two randomly generated characters. The last game of the regular season, I go up against Syracuse and throw for, by some divine intervention, 9 touchdowns and 700 yards winning the Heisman, the coveted Heisman Xbox achievement, and the hearts of millions.

Where is my coaching job for Rutgers?! I got us to a Fiesta Bowl win! All I need is……Robert Griffin III.

Epilogue

-I'm not really sure how to end this vivid tale of sickness and a man at his breaking point, so I'll just leave you with this quote about the sick from Rodney Dangerfield: "My mother had morning sickness the day after I was born!"

Thank you, and good night!

Ruby Sparks: Review

By Spence Blazak

There is an old Twilight Zone episode with more or less the same set up as Ruby Sparks. A sad sack writer describes his ideas into a tape recorder. His wife is his biggest hater, and so he decides to make his next descriptive creation the perfect woman. His imagined being comes to a tangible fruition, she is perfect, commercial break, his life is awesome, blah blah blah, then it is revealed that he actually did the same thing to create his wife as well. He goes to a safe, tears up her recorded description, and she evaporates, leaving him to a happy life with his true Galatea.

It isn't really anything special, which was why I thought Ruby Sparks would end up flat or run itself ashore 30 minutes into the run time. Against all expectations, the story turns out to be a pleasurable yet cerebral romance, as well as a character study on free will and innermost desire.

Calvin (Paul Dano) believes his best days as a writer are behind him. He wrote a best selling coming of age novel when he was 19, and has been trying to follow it up for the last decade. His editors aren't satisfied with his short stories anymore and are breathing down his neck for any word on his next novel.

His brother and therapist try to get to the root of his writer's block with him. It seems like it is something along the lines of internal inadequacies and mental hang-ups from never getting over his ex. The therapist decides to give Calvin a writing assignment to help him out: describe a stranger who meets his scrappy dog and likes him.

Calvin goes home and makes his character the girl he has been dreaming about: Ruby Sparks (Zoe Kazan). Colored leggings, dyed red hair, orphan, born in Dayton, Ohio (because it sounds romantic), a bubbly personality, and deeply in love with him. It can be argued that she is almost a satire of Zooey Deschanel from 500 Days of Summer.

The first act wraps up with obligatory scenes of Ruby coming to life and everyone being confused, but Ruby Sparks takes the important turn in any story set in magical realism by not worrying about answering why this has happened and instead focusing on what comes from it.

Realizing that anything he writes about Ruby on his typewriter will immediately come to pass, Calvin and his brother run with it. His brother points out that this is the perfect gift: he can take away everything about her that irks him, give her big breasts, and get constant sexual favors. The next half hour consists of Calvin tinkering with Ruby and enjoying the honeymoon phase of his relationship.

This is the point where Ruby Sparks sets itself apart. We start to delve into what Calvin actually wants in this relationship, the needs of Ruby that Calvin can't make go away with his typewriter, the essence of free will, and the real power that comes from being a human puppeteer.

Is it Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? No, but it still takes what could have been a run-of-the-mill romance and makes it a cerebral and refreshing modern take on Pygmalion.

Directed by Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Feris of Little Miss Sunshine fame, the film takes on an interesting meta aspect. Just as Calvin is trying to follow up is first novel, which has become a modern classic, Dayton and Feris are following up their wildly successful debut film (now six years old). The style utilizes a shaky camera at times and a tone that goes for a bit more of a realistic vibe than its predecessor, making it all the more interesting when the character of Ruby comes to pass.

The script is penned by Zoe Kazan, Ruby herself, and its greatest triumph is that it doesn't realize how smart it is. In an age when lots of indie movies pat themselves on the back from start to finish, Ruby Sparks is overly humble. In this respect, one of the film's biggest downfalls is that because its cerebral aspects are so great that you wish you got even more.

Despite this, Kazan shows expertise well beyond her age as a writer, bringing to mind a Diablo Cody that doesn't make me want to put my head through a brick wall. Smart dialogue, real characters, doesn't over do it, and ends with a soft landing. While this ending was safe and a bit of a cop out, I’m anxiously awaiting Kazan’s next piece.

Don't judge Ruby Sparks by its trailer, because it doesn't give itself enough credit. Whether you are hoping for a romance or a mental mind blow, it is one of the more pleasurable film experiences of the year so far. Plus…..there’s a cute little dog in it!

If What Women Want is a one star-er, and Groundhogs Day is a four star-er, Ruby Sparks gets a solid three stars.

The Definitive "Breaking Bad" Drinking Game

By Spence Blazak

AMC's Breaking Bad. Many could argue it is television's best show. Many could also argue it is telvesion's most depressing. So that got me thinking.....what makes everything in life less depressing? DRINKING GAMES! America's great pastime. It puts a spring into the step of all of life's most drab occasions: minor league baseball games, funerals, even jury duty. So hey, next time you are watching television's great gem, grab a chocolate milk, kick back, and drink away with Wookiee Wednesday at your side!

Take a sip when:

-Jesse says "yo"

-Someone smokes meth

-Skylar gets upset that Walt won't talk to her

-Saul acts unprofessional

-Walt yells at Jesse

-Hank says something off color

-Walt coughs

-Walter Jr. eats breakfast

-The creepy bell guy rings his bell

Have a gulp when:

-Someone says the word "change" or "chemistry"

-Marie steals something

-Los Pollos Hermanos is mentioned

-There is sexual tension between Ted and Skylar

-Hank/Jesse does something endearing

-Walt gives a bad grade on a chemistry test

-The RV has a technical issue

Finish your drink when:

-Walt kills someone

-Someone else finds out Walt cooks meth

-Walt throws a pizza on the roof

-Skinny Pete gets robbed

-Someone says "break bad"

-Walt is in a bathroom

-A meth addict gets crushed with an ATM

-Jane's dad sounds particularly like Liam Neeson in Taken

The Dark Knight Rises: Review, No Spoilers

By Spence Blazak

Batman has hung up his cinematic cape. He is going to settle down, buy a flat in the suburbs, maybe join a Tuesday night bridge club, but before that, he is putting on the cowl for one last adventure.

The Dark Knight Rises boils down to one question above all else: How do you end one of the top trilogies of all time? It could fall the way of The Matrix Revolutions, as a heavy handed pile of overindulgence, the way of The Godfather III, which would have sullied two of the greatest movies ever made had people not done such a good job of forgetting it, or the way of Toy Story 3, excellence that just might precede its predecessors.

Before I reveal which movie trilogy conclusion that The Dark Knight Rises brings to my mind, I would like to discuss the awesomeness that it is.

The movie opens eight years after the end of The Dark Knight. For the first time in what might be city history, Gothamites are living the high life. Harvey Dent has been dubbed a martyr, and his legacy has been used to get more criminals behind bars, but alas, Batman took Dent’s fall for that whole “holding a gun to a kid’s head and having two faces” incident.

Batman has been gone for almost a decade, and Bruce Wayne has morphed into a gimpy Howard Hughes figure. He is out of touch with the world, Wayne Enterprises is almost bankrupt, and he has lost the fight in him, getting smacked around a little bit by the vivacious Catwoman in an opening scene. He is still under the naïve impression that his love Rachel, who died in the last movie, was going to leave Harvey Dent to be with him, and he has spent the last eight years wallowing in self-pity. Why Bruce Wayne was so enamored with Maggie Gyllenhaal is a mystery that only five more sequels could solve.

Just when all seems well and good in the gentle burg of Gotham, socialism fueled terrorist Bane has hired every mercenary in the area and plans on starting a people’s revolution in the city (isn’t that just always the way?). Batman comes out of retirement, and thus begins the end of one of the best conclusions you could hope for.

The Dark Knight Rises lays out a smorgasbord of characters, with the new additions of Joseph Gordon Levitt as a Gotham police officer, Marion Cotillard as a philanthropist investor in Wayne Enterprises, Anne Hathaway as a cat burglar who wears cat ears that is (to brilliant effect) never called Catwoman, and Tom Hardy as Bane.

JGL and Marion Cotillard factor into the plot very well, getting the most of their roles while cementing The Dark Knight Rises place as a crime drama rather than just a superhero movie. Hathaway’s Catwoman is played the way you want to see it. She purrs her lines, makes a cat pun, and stabs a dude with her stiletto, causing viewers to ask the question: “Why has no one been this good in the role before?” Main villain Bane is the most interesting of the bunch. Tom Hardy is larger than life in the part, causing an immediate fear to strike everyone he comes into contact with. Many critics poo-pooed Bane for not having the grandiose motivations of the Joker, but when you break it down, Bane’s plot is almost as satisfyingly evil as the Joker’s, as he strives to strike another vulnerable part of the human mind: morality in a mob mentality. He makes Gothamites wonder if he really is that wrong…. Granted, its tough to beat a schizophrenic clown that’s ultimate goal is to get Batman to break his one rule and kill him, but it’s a start.

Every member of the cast gives their best performance of the series (with an ensemble cast featuring 4 Oscar winners and 3 nominees), the combo of Nolan’s fluid camera and the morosely gorgeous cinematography give a one-two punch of eye candy, and the story is riveting.

The Dark Knight Rises isn’t without its faults though. The most prominent problems include a few bouts of subpar dialogue, a plot hole or two towards the end, and the always enjoyable unintentional comedy when serious actors act too seriously.

The most important thing to remember is that this isn’t The Dark Knight, it’s meant to end the series with a satisfying bang, and it does just that. As far as endings go, it is very reminiscent of Return of the Jedi: not as good of a movie as the second one, but it couldn’t have ended any other way. All of its shortcomings are easily overlooked when you let go and escape with Batman one last time for an enjoyable 2 hours and 45 minutes.

If Batman Begins is a three star-er, and The Dark Knight is a four star-er, then The Dark Knight Rises is a three-and-a-half star gem.