Brandon's Buzz

Another relatively light week is on tap, although if you’re feeling nostalgic, you’ll find a pair of touchstones — one from the ’80s, one from the ’90s — in the pipeline as you do your shopping this Tuesday. Behold:

After an endless wait, one of television’s smartest and most beloved situation comedies finally began making its way to DVD last year, and the latest release arrives this week. The Fourth Season of Family Ties was a watershed one for the series; having been paired with “The Cosby Show” on Thursday nights, the show was finally a ratings bonanza after several years of flying below the radar, and thanks to box office smash Back to the Future, its young star Michael J. Fox had just become a bona fide superstar. Season four also introduced to the series two of its funniest and most memorable ancillary characters, as the oldest Keaton kids both found true love: Alex, with fellow co-ed Ellen Reed (the terrific Tracy Pollan), and Mallory, with dropout sculptor Nick Moore (the hilarious Scott Valentine). The resulting complications — Alex deciding to take up ballet, or the riotous family dinner in which Mallory introduced Nick to the mortified Keaton clan, to name but two — rank among the show’s most remarkable moments.

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“This… inferiority complex that daytime [television] has with regard to prime time, I think, is hurting it, especially because, ironically, prime time has become so much more like daytime! It’s almost like soap operas lost the battle and won the war, because, with the exception of a few police procedural-type shows, I can’t think of a single prime time or cable show that doesn’t have soap opera elements.”

— former “Young and the Restless” writer Sara Bibel, discussing daytime’s woes on the BlogTalkRadio show “In the Zone”

Sure, it’s not in the same league as the impeccably rendered coffee table scrapbook that Gary Warner assembled for the soap’s 30th anniversary in 1998, but considering the sorry state of affairs that is daytime television these days, I gratefully choose to appreciate the fact that we get even this much.

In The “One Life to Live” 40th Anniversary Trivia Book, longtime soap journalist Gerald Waggett delves into the legendary soap opera’s rich history and, alongside the standard year-by-year plot recaps, character bios, and Emmy data, manages to dig up a few kernels that even I didn’t know (and I pride myself on knowing everything about this show!), including the revelation that executive producer Paul Rauch, despite his vehement protestations to the contrary back then, was trying to lure Robin Strasser (who had left the show on bad terms with Rauch a few years prior) back to her signature role as Dorian Lord in 1990 but was instead forced to recast with Elaine Princi after Strasser turned him down flat, or that the passionate objections of my forever fave Hillary B. Smith convinced head writer Michael Malone to change the ending of his spectacular 1993 gang rape storyline (the trial was originally slated to conclude with a not guilty verdict, but after Smith — who played Nora Gannon, the attorney defending the rapists — intervened, Malone had Nora realize her clients’ guilt and deliberately throw the case during summation, thereby causing a mistrial).

As is typical with Waggett’s soap-related books (of which I own four, including this one), this one contains some frustrating factual errors (Claire Labine didn’t replace Malone as head writer, but rather the disastrous team of Peggy Sloane and Leah Laiman; Sloan Carpenter wrote Lord of the Banner in 1993, not 1992) that a true daytime expert wouldn’t have allowed, but all things considered, this is a nice way for both new viewers to get a crash course on the show’s history and for freakish devotees like myself to take a lazy stroll down mem’ry lane.

Because the books, novels and otherwise, that I hold closest to my heart are so vastly different, and touch and engage my mind and imagination in such profoundly individual ways, I have always hesitated to single out any particular title as my absolute favorite. (I fight no such quandary when it comes to authors: given the incredible consistency of the quality of his work, juxtaposed against the radical shifts in both tone and topic that each of his books portrays, I have no qualms whatsoever about calling the brilliantly sophisticated Jay McInerney — he of the yuppie touchstones Bright Lights, Big City and Brightness Falls, and the underappreciated blues-drenched mid-’90s classic The Last of the Savages — my favorite author.)

But if you cornered and commanded me to name the best book I’ve ever read, I would be hard pressed to choose a more powerful tome than Wally Lamb’s shattering 1998 masterwork I Know This Much is True. A sprawling epic which leaps liberally across forty years and two continents in search of the heartbreaking truths which carried one twin toward outright madness and the other toward a cruel, endless cycle of self-destruction, True has just been reprinted in a stunningly gorgeous tenth anniversary commemorative edition that now, in an attempt to both trace the story’s origins and map the book’s evolving legacy, includes both a new interview with and a new essay from the author.

A novel that literally smashes into a hundred pieces every rule of contemporary commercial fiction with breathtakingly reckless ease — at nearly nine hundred pages, it’s nearly three times longer than your standard beach read; its protagonist, even at his most sympathetic and relatable, is a maddening, unlikable son of a bitch; the narrative whirls in and out of multiple protracted flashbacks that are so densely packed with pertinent information that you’ll need a flow chart to keep it all straight — True opens with a harrowing, indelible bang, as Thomas Birdsey, a deranged man claiming he’s following a direct order from God, walks into a public library and slices off his right hand with a butcher knife. As word spreads about the incident and we meet (and, against all odds, come to care deeply for) Thomas’ embattled twin brother, Domenick, the story flashes back to the summer of 1969 (whereupon we witness the birth of Thomas’ dementia) and later, at the book’s riveting midpoint, to the summer of 1949 (when, in a crazy, mind-bending master class in storytelling, Lamb expands the novel into a parallel narrative, as we get to read the “autobiography” of Domenick and Thomas’ maternal grandfather, and past and future begin working in magnificent concert, one ever aiming to haunt and inform the other).

Don’t allow yourself to be daunted by its intimidating heft, physical and otherwise; you’ll not find a wasted page — indeed, not even a wasted sentence — among this book’s nine hundred. There’s no concrete way to describe this novel — which contains no fewer than fifteen interconnected subplots masterfully woven together into one of the most compelling tapestries with which modern fiction has ever been gifted — except to say this: I know that True is a gripping, extraordinary, landmark achievement, one that I humbly suggest may never be bested. And I know that in ten years, no other piece of fiction has even come close.

Easily the most maddening megastars of their (and, quite possibly, any other) generation, Chris Martin and the guys who comprise Coldplay have rebounded from a three year hiatus with Viva La Vida -or- Death and All His Friends — and incidentally, would someone kindly let ol’ Chris know that split title idea is only cute when I do it? — yet another commercial smash which pretty much cements this band, for better or worse, as this decade’s “it” artists.

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“Aaron [Spelling] and I set out to try to do a serial to be competitive with ‘Dallas.’ Someone at ABC actually suggested we do a show called ‘Fort Worth,’ which we said, ‘Noooo… I don’t think that’s a very good idea.'”

— “Dynasty” producer Douglas S. Cramer, recalling the television classic’s dubious origins

It’s a slow one this week out in America’s record stores, with the only major release of note being the latest album from Rick Springfield (!), should that do anything for you. My take on that situation is as follows: it’s bad enough I have to sit through a double dose of that fop everyday on “General Hospital” (yep, they’ve got him playing two characters now!); I sure as shootin’ don’t have to support his latest attempt to reignite his non-starter of a music career. I’ve already got “Jessie’s Girl” and “Love Somebody” on my iPod; that more than fulfills my duty to the crown, methinks.

So, this is a perfect week to catch up on some worthy recent releases that may have slipped past you. (You can’t all be me, after all.) Herewith, a handy pocket guide:

Following the phenomenal success of the official bootlegs from her 2005 tour in support of The Beekeeper, Tori Amos has just digitally released all 27 shows from last year’s American Doll Posse jaunt. Available right now as an iTunes exclusive (and, beginning next week, available everywhere else), the series, entitled Legs and Boots, is pretty Posse-centric, a fact which anyone who wasn’t a fan of that album (hi!) will find disheartening. However, as you scan the tracklists of each show, you’ll no doubt find some pleasant surprises (like her surprising inclusion of the classic b-side “Beulah Land” from the Dallas concert, or the radically slowed-down take on “Etienne,” one of Y Kant Tori Read’s few highlights, from the Boston set). The audio is crystal clear, and serves as a vital reminder of Amos’ masterful potency as a live performer.

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Hope he, uh, didn’t have other plans for August.

In a whiplash-fast change of plans, Houston-based gymnast Raj Bhavsar will be an Olympian after all, after Paul Hamm, who continues to recover from the broken hand that sidelined him at the beginning of the summer, chose today to cede his de facto spot on the American team.

Despite the most thrilling routine of his career on the parallel bars at the Olympic trials last month, Bhavsar fell just nine heart-wrenching hundredths of a point shy of guaranteeing himself a ticket to Beijing, and — because Hamm (whose injury prevented him from competing at the trials) won the individual all-around gold medal in Athens on the strength of a gutsy, fearless performance on the high bar, thereby cementing himself as the eternal hero of American men’s gymnastics, no matter his physical condition — ended up instead being named as an alternate. (A similar fate befell him in 2004, and Bhavsar’s has been quite candid about how his heartbreak over his initial failure very nearly drove him to suicide.) Hamm was awarded a spot on this year’s team, with the understanding that he would be in fighting trim by August 9, and as late as last Saturday, it seemed as though he would be: during a July 19 exhibition, Hamm showed the team selection committee that, though he still had a heavy training regimen ahead of him, his hand had sufficiently healed.

Now, nine days later, having decided that his body simply isn’t in the kind of shape that would allow him to make a real impact in Beijing, Hamm has selflessly decided to step aside and allow Bhavsar a chance to chase the same dream that Hamm himself was able to capture in such a thrilling fashion — seriously, I still get goosebumps when I recall that boy’s explosive, gravity-defying high bar routine (and, more importantly, the stuck landing, which Hamm nailed with such a shattering grace that the resulting echo must have rippled across the whole of Greece for days after the fact) — four years ago. This kind of story is what the phrase “Olympic spirit” is all about, methinks.

Paul and Raj, congratulations — and profound admiration — to both of you. Men, you’re each American heroes.  And Raj, baby:  go get ’em next month in Beijing.  There’s absolutely no doubt you’ve earned it.

“It’s a wondrous world / of ridiculous things /

with nothing so rare / as the love that it brings /

in the silence / of a smile that understands….”

— Patty Griffin, “Christina”

 

One of the finest performers in the history of the world is back with a pair of projects that beautifully illustrate the rich and inspiring depth of her range and artistry.

A little-remembered 1982 live recording which has just been restored and expanded for a first-ever release on compact disc, Live in Washington, D.C. finds American soul icon Patti LaBelle — whose powerful pipes have long since passed into legend — at the very zenith of her talent and ability. Still in the infancy of her solo career at that time, following her amazing run as the frontwoman of the pioneering ’70s trio Labelle (whose classic #1 hit “Lady Marmalade” — a performance of which anchors this live album — endures some three decades later), Miss Patti was stuck on tiny Philadelphia International Records (following an inconsequential three-album stint at Epic) and, in ’82, was still a full year away from finding and recording “If Only You Knew,” the tune that would eventually become her signature smash. LaBelle needed something concrete to help reignite the once-deafening buzz that used to surround her, and although few realized it at the time, this concert would end up being just the ticket. By mixing a handful of classics (like her showstopping take on Harold Melvin’s “If You Don’t Know Me By Now” and a riveting (and flirting-with-definitive) cover of “Over the Rainbow”) with a series of songs that would become Patti staples (like “I Don’t Go Shopping” and “You Are My Friend,” which began as a random entry in Patti’s husband’s journal), she managed to get the entire music industry talking about her again. Now, at long last, you can hear for yourself a legend being (re)born.

In conjunction with the release of Live comes a new two-disc retrospective, The Essential Patti LaBelle, a thirty-track compendium of material from all three phases of Patti’s career (the ’60s, when she was with the Blue Belles; the ’70s, when she was the driving force behind Labelle; and the ’80s, when her solo career finally took off). To my immense frustration, several truly essential tunes are omitted from this collection (I’m devastated that none of Labelle’s classic collaborations with the late Laura Nyro — most notably sterling takes on Smokey Robinson’s “You Really Got a Hold on Me” or Carole King’s “Up on the Roof” — were deemed worthy for inclusion; same goes for Patti’s original 1989 version of “If You Asked Me To,” which would become a top ten smash for Celine Dion three years later), but enough classics are here — “Marmalade” and “If Only,” of course, plus “New Attitude,” “Love, Need, and Want You,” and her unforgettable 1986 duet with Michael McDonald, “On My Own” — to make this a worthwhile experience. (In addition, there’s also a previously unreleased track, “Mean Ol’ Man’s World,” for true fanatics.) If you’ve ever wondered what all the fuss was about regarding this brilliant woman, there has never been a better opportunity than this to crack the code.

“In the end we shall have had enough of cynicism and skepticism and humbug and we shall want to live more musically.”

— Vincent van Gogh, in an 1888 letter to his brother Theo

New efforts from a long-forgotten ’90s band, a teen queen with ambitions far beyond her current niche, and the hottest country act since those ridiculously goofy Dixie Chicks highlight this week’s scant release schedule. But don’t let appearances fool you: no fewer than one of these records is gonna stand among this year’s best, mark it.

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In what is shaping up as a watershed, telltale year — one marked by radically slashed budgets, by a crumbling ratings, by a series of breath-stealing actor dismissals, and by entire shows coasting on the fumes of asinine plot-propelled drivel (“The Bold and the Beautiful,” anyone?) — for a uniquely American art form — the serialized daytime drama — let’s pause to toast the one soap that’s more or less getting it exactly right: ABC’s “One Life to Live.” The show marked its fortieth year on the air on July 15, and today and tomorrow, they’re pulling out all the stops to mark the occasion by revisiting three of “One Life’s” most successful and most beloved storylines: Tina Lord Roberts’ 1987 tumble over an Argentinian waterfall (today, it’ll be her daughter Sarah taking that plunge); Viki Lord’s infamous trip to Heaven that same year (she’s going back, but this time around she’ll only encounter the folks — like her former father-in-law (and second favorite sparring partner) Asa Buchanan, her dear friend Mel Hayes, and her late husband Ben Davidson — who have died since her first visit); and Clint Buchanan’s lavishly brilliant time-travelling adventure (twenty years ago, he fell off his horse — seriously, you just had to be there — and landed in Arizona in the late 19th century; this month, Bo and Rex are struck by lightning and wake up in 1968 — the year this series hit the air, wink, wink — and faced with a choice to either change the future — will Asa’s bastard son David Vickers even be born? Will Bo not be drafted and sent to Vietnam after all? — or leave it alone). Soaps are all about execution, of course, so the final verdict will be out for a bit, but this ploy feels like a spectacular way to both honor this show’s rich, bountiful history and to re-engage the attention of lapsed fans who have been alienated over the years by shoddy writing and boneheaded plot twists (how many besides me are still infuriated about Nora sleeping with Sam Rappaport ten years ago?!). Contrast this celebration with fellow ABC soap “General Hospital” — which marked its 45th anniversary on April 1 with a dopey thirty-second clip reel tacked onto the end of that day’s episode — and you get the distinct feeling that its network no longer considers “One Life” to be the redheaded stepchild of its daytime lineup.

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