ION Magazine issue 37

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march • FREE

understanding grindhouse miho hatori die mannequin mike libby










tel: 514-389-9495





TABLE OF CONTENTS 14 16 18 46 47 48

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Editor’s Letter Smile, you’re all over the internet. ION the Prize Of the Month Games about ice pirates, movies about how our God is an awesome God and a couple of cats in need of an exorcism. Tales of Ordinary Madness Tricking a girl into going on a date with you still counts as a date. Fact! Horoscopes This month ION grants Robert Dayton with the power to read the stars. Unfortunately, the stars say your dog is going to die. Sorry. The Perry Bible Fellowship

ART 20 Mike Libby Calvin and Hobbes comics taught us that Bats = Bugs. But according to Mike Libby, it’s Watch Parts = Bug

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FASHION 22 The Prince of Tides This month’s fashion editorial shot by Chris Haylett

FILM 28 Understanding Grindhouse Cinema it’s actually just a big coincidence that we’re printing this a month before the new Tarantino/Rodriguez movie Grindhouse comes out.

MUSIC 34 36 38 42 44

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Die Mannequin Faster, Mannequin! Die! Die! Miho Hatori Reading what this former member of Cibbo Matto has to say kind of makes you want to give her a big hug. The Pack Even coffee girls get the blues. Poster Art: Alice Phieu Reviews


514-389-9495


Volume 5 Number 2 Issue 37 Publisher

Vanessa Leigh vanessa@ionmagazine.ca

Editor in Chief  Michael Mann editor@ionmagazine.ca Arts & Culture Editor   Jennifer Selk jen@ionmagazine.ca Fashion Editor  Vanessa Leigh fashion@ionmagazine.ca Acting Film Editor  Michael Mann film@ionmagazine.ca Music Editor  Bryce Dunn bryce@ionmagazine.ca Copy Editors Agata Zurek Editorial Intern Mariz Manansala Photo Editor  Art Director Associate Art Director Design Assistant

Fiona Garden photos@ionmagazine.ca Danny Fazio danny@ionmagazine.ca Erin Ashenhurst erin@ionmagazine.ca Leslie Ma leslie@ionmagazine.ca

Advertising  Jenny Goodman jenny@ionmagazine.ca Advertising Accounts Manager   Natasha Neale natasha@ionmagazine.ca Contributing Writers: Degan Beley, David Bertrand, Robin Bougie, Robert Dayton, Amanda Farrell, Ryan Hoben, Filmore Mescalito Holmes, Sam Kerr, Sasha Langford, Adrian Mack, Mariz Manansala, Adam Menceles, Kliph Nesteroff, Trevor Risk, Adam Simpkins, Natalie Vermeer Contributing Photographers & Illustrators: Toby Marie Bannister, Chris Haylett, Kris Krug, Jason Lang, Mark Maryanovich, Mike Shantz ION is printed 10 times a year by the ION Publishing Group. No parts of ION Magazine may be reproduced in any form by any means without prior written consent from the publisher. ION welcomes submissions but accepts no responsibility for the return of unsolicited materials. The opinions expressed by writers and artists do not necessarily reflect those of ION Magazine. All content © Copyright ION Magazine 2006 Hey PR people, publicists, brand managers and label friends, send us stuff. Highresolution jpegs are nifty and all, but it’s no substitute for the real thing. Clothing, liquor, iPhones, CDs, vinyl, DVDs, video games, and a Wii can be sent to the address below. We’re serious about the Wii. 3rd Floor, 300 Water Street. Vancouver, BC, Canada. V6B 1B6 Office 604.696.9466 Fax: 604.696.9411 www.ionmagazine.ca feedback@ionmagazine.ca Cover Photography: Fiona Garden www.fionagardenphotography.com Model: Dani from TalentCo www.talentco.net



EDITOR’S LETTER ION THE PRIZE OF THE MONTH

EDITOR’S LETTER Words Michael Mann Photography Toby Marie Bannister

ION MAGAZINE 14

During the Second Punic War (218-202 BC), Archimedes allegedly took down a whole navy fleet with a big mirror. With the 2.0 Web Revolution (2004-present), we have an army of girls lifting up their shirts in front of their bathroom mirrors. Remember that “Right Now” video by Van Halen— minus David Lee Roth? You know, the one where it said “Right Now” followed by something thought provoking. Well if they were to remake that video today, the second or third Right Now statement would probably read “Right Now… there are bad nude pictures of someone you know on the internet.” Be afraid. The internet is great for finding stuff. But what it’s even better for is for accidentally finding stuff. In no other aspect of your life can something as minute as a misplaced keystroke lead you to seeing the most amazing or disgusting (or both) thing you’ve ever seen in your life. This most cer-

tainly never happens while searching through microfiche at the library. One alarming trend I’ve come across in recent years is amateur nude photographic self-portraits. Cindy Sherman these photos ain’t.They’re characterized by being poorly lit, with an obtrusive flash, and the subject usually has a dumb look on their face. Frighteningly, it’s not just the camwhores and college girls gone wild doing this. It’s women you know. Women with husbands and boyfriends, women with parents and grandparents, girls next door and girls upstairs. This is a relatively new phenomenon. I’m pretty confident there weren’t people in the 1800s taking their clothes off, holding pinhole cameras in front of really shiny sheets of copper and waiting eight hours for a photo to develop. Call it a weird conflux of digital technology and the cult of celebrity. What it boils down to is we have large groups of people who are so starved for attention they’ll take nude photos of themselves with their cameras and share them with the general public. It starts with a casual shot that maybe, even accidentally, shows a little too much cleavage. It’s a slippery slope from there. Before you know it, it’s

shirt up, tits out, snap, upload. Then bam! Some pervo sees the photo and it’s right click, save as to his hard drive. Experts say the only way to truly ensure that data can’t be recovered from a hard drive is to take a sledgehammer to it. Are you prepared to hunt down every single perv with an internet connection and take a sledgehammer to their computer? We tell people that smoking pot leads to heroin, that having a drink leads to alcoholism, that having a cigarette leads to lung cancer and that having sex leads to STDs. Why aren’t we educating people that taking bad and revealing photos of oneself with their camera and posting them on internet leads to a life of shame? I write this not to pass judgment, but to educate and encourage future generations to think carefully before publishing nude pics online. Always keep in mind that amateur nude photographic self-portraits are a lot like a loonie: once it leaves the mint, it’s in circulation forever. But unlike a loonie, when an amateur nude pic finds its way into the sewers of the internet, it just changes hands more rapidly. Consider yourself warned.



EDITOR’S LETTER ION THE PRIZE OF THE MONTH ION MAGAZINE 16

DICKIES GIRL Photography Fiona Garden The prize this month is an assortment of women’s clothing from Dickies Girl. If you can believe it, Dickies has been around since the 20s making overalls and work apparel. With Dickies Girl, this legendary brand offers up something different… sexy and fashionable street wear. The new Dickies Girl line features a diverse se-

lection of stylish and comfortable jeans, dresses, skirts and tees made for everywoman—including fantasy female mechanics that everyman secretly dreams will tune up his imaginary muscle car. To enter, go to www.ionmagazine.ca and click on contests.



EDITOR’S LETTER ION THE PRIZE OF THE MONTH ION MAGAZINE 18

DVD

DVD

DVD

Pets

Jesus Camp

Tideland

Shortbus

Chico & Les

The kids in Jesus Camp are pretty normal, apart from the fact that they’ve been raised almost militantly to promote Evangelical Christianity. The film follows three of them, and several hundred other future leaders of the Republican Party, as they head off to the Kids on Fire Summer Camp. At camp, the counselors tell them stuff like, “Warlocks are enemies of God. Had it been in the Old Testament, Harry Potter would have been put to death. You don’t make heroes out of warlocks,” while encouraging complete devotion to God and a subtle integration into Right wing ideology. The creepy earnestness of the children is what’s really frightening about the film. They pray and cry hysterically (satanically?!) as a proclamation of their love for Christ, and then follow it up with a trip to the local bowling alley where the recruitment for their Christian army continues.

We like a movie that begins with a warning from the director that you might not like this film. We like it even more when it’s Terry Gilliam issuing the warning. Vancouver’s Jodelle Ferland stars as Jeliza-Rose, the imaginative daughter of a former rockstar, Noah (Jeff Bridges). The two flee to Texas (actually Saskatchewan) after Jeliza’s mother (Jennifer Tilley) overdoses. Noah and Jeliza have a pretty typical father-daughter relationship: She cooks heroin for him, he dies and slowly decomposes in an armchair. Alone and not really comprehending that her dad is dead, Jeliza spends a macabre summer talking to severed Barbie doll heads and her taxidermist neighbours—a mentally handicapped man with a big scar and his older sister, who lost an eye to a bee sting. If you dug Pan’s Labyrinth and are up for a more challenging adult fairy-tale of an innocent child using her imagination to cope with her horrible surroundings, you might like this film. Then again, you might not.

Prudes beware, this is the John Cameron Mitchell (Hedwig and the Angry Inch) movie where former Much Music VJ and current CBC personality Sook-Yin Lee really has sex on film. And it’s not just her too, lots of people have sex in this film. One man even sings the “Star Spangled Banner” into another man’s bare buttocks (it took three hours to come up with an inoffensive way to word that last sentence). True, Shortbus is beautifully shot, well acted and has some sort of story, but it’s highly unlikely that a single person will rent this movie because of those factors. No, they’re going to rent it for the sex and the controversy. But that’s okay and it doesn’t make you a pervert because it’s art, right?

Steve Murray of Vancouver sent us the following picture and wrote, “I took this shot about two months ago with my girlfriend’s digital camera. When I saw the result on the display, I was amazed/terrified. I always knew there was something otherworldly about the pair, I just never knew it was in the windows to their tiny little souls.“ Poor Steve. What he doesn’t know is that it’s his girlfriend’s camera that’s actually possessed and not the cats. Spirits and demons are tricky that way. Send your animal pictures to pet@ionmagazine.ca. If we use them we’ll give you a prize that pales in comparison to having your pet immortalized in print.


Game

Contributor

Lost Planet

Smooth Moves

Kliph Nesteroff

Robin Bougie

Did somebody say ice pirates? That’s what you are in the Xbox 360 exclusive title, Lost Planet. A filthy ice pirate who’s lost his memory. Think of this game as Dune meets Starship Troopers taking place on the ice planet Hoth. While you wait for your memory to come back, why not hunt for some ice pirate treasure. Your “booty” in this game is a precious futuristic fuel that you need to keep from freezing to death. Unfortunately, to get the fuel you need to waste bugs that are the size of skyscrapers. Fortunately, you have grenades, lasers, machine guns and a Bionic Commando-style grappling hook—anyone remember that game? If it gets too crazy, you can step into a VS suit, which turns you into a gigantic robot à la Robotech. Take a break from the story mode and take the action to Xbox Live and waste your fellow ice pirate nerds while screaming “brrr arrr brrr!” into your headset.

It’s fun to sit around and ponder the question: “if my video game was a neurological disorder, which one would it be. WarioWare: Smooth Moves for Nintendo’s Wii would undoubtedly be ADHD as it consists of over 200 micro-games that last about five seconds and use the Wii Remote in a different way. To make it even more insane, the longer you play, the faster things get. To make it even more insane, a lot of the games are five second nostalgic trips back to Nintendo games of yore like Zelda, Punch Out, Metroid, Star Fox and Mario Bros. You’ll the be the most popular nerd at the Wii party if you show up with this game. Best leave the Ritalin at home if you want to win.

Kliph Nesteroff is one of many who helped with our Grindhouse cinema guide this month. Kliph is a freelance writer responsible for the Generation Exploitation podcast, website and print zine. He is a regular contributor to CBC Radio One and Radio WFMU, and has had his work praised by both Vanity Fair and Comedy Central. In a former life he was known as stand-up comedian, Shecky Grey. Check out the Generation Exploitation podcast and blog at: http://playlist.citr.ca/podcasting/ xml/laughtracks.xml http://generationexploitation.blog spot.com

Robin, another one of many who helped with our Grindhouse cinema guide this month, has just published the 10 year anniversary issue (#20) of his infamous underground movie magazine Cinema Sewer; he is responsible for the recent 60 page filthy comic book anthology Sleazy Slice, as well as the DVD compilation known as The Retard-O-Tron Video Mixtape. In the works for Bougie in 2007: A 200 page softcover book collection of the first 12 issues of Cinema Sewer from U.K. publisher FABpress, Retard-O-Tron 2, and a religious triple-X movie called The Cumming of Jizzus featuring local porn industry luminaries such as the gorgeous Maya and Matt Daddy Deluxe. For more info visit: www.cinemasewer.com and Bougie’s daily blog: bougieman.livejournal.com

Photo by Kris Krug

Contributor

ION MAGAZINE

Game

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ART FASHION

FILM MUSIC

Frankenbugs

Mike Libby’s Insect Lab Words Degan Beley

ION MAGAZINE 20

The first question I ask Mike Libby is “Artist, entomologist or watchmaker?” Although the answer turns out to be firmly “artist,” when you see his delicate sculptures—made from dead insects and watch parts—you can’t help but think there’s got to be some overlap. Libby’s interweaving of organic, formerly living things and man-made creations is not new. In fact, it is the stuff of science fiction and, looking at some of the creepier insects, classic horror. At the same time, there is something undeniably compelling about the union. Antique looking cogs and gears fit perfectly into the space where guts would have been. Minute and second hands easily become antennae. Libby’s creations are an insect-phobe’s worst nightmare and a sciencefiction fan’s dream. Speaking to me over the telephone from his home in Portland, Maine, Libby tells me that inspiration for his Insect Lab came spontaneously one day in the form of an intact beetle on the ground. Next came the idea of an old wristwatch. The two seemed to come together quite naturally. He continued refining the process of combining creatures with cogs using neighbourhood crawlies, but since his local insect population is made up of garden variety bugs, he soon moved on to more exotic specimens ordered from international insect dealers. Frankly, I was so in awe of there being such a thing (as insect dealers) that during our conversation, Libby’s assertion that he often receives insects from regular folk didn’t raise my

eyebrow.“For some reason, it seems to be women who are the ones giving me these things,” Libby explained. I had been about to tell him that I have two moths in an Altoids tin he could have, but I chickened out. Libby’s current sculptural collection includes cybernetic spiders, butterflies, cicadas, dragonflies, beetles, bees and wasps. The mechanics side of the parts list has grown as well. He says he has so many different watch and clock parts (as well as diodes and pieces of circuitry board for the “high tech” looking pieces) that he can create pretty much anything that comes to mind.“I might use silver pieces and a blue diode, say, with a butterfly,” he told me,“While a big black beetle might lend itself better to corroded brass pieces.” The piece he was working on when we spoke was a huge black beetle that someone had custom ordered. He intended it to contain very simple cogs and clockwork and to have it look something like a contender at an end of the world battle of robots vs. humans. It sounded awesome, but I just hoped the guy who ordered it won’t ever invite me over! When Libby’s cyborg creatures are finished, they’re displayed either in glass bell jars or black shadow boxes labeled with their Latin names. And with names like Parantica Sita Sita and Chrisina Gloriosa, the labeling is almost as science-fictionesque as the creature creations themselves. I was convinced that while piecing together the intricacies of a butterfly and an LED, Libby would also

be concentrating hard on what kind of fabulous name the piece should have, but he assured me this is not the case. He said all the names are original and any wackiness is firmly the fault of entomology textbooks. So it seems there is a bit of humility here. While Libby is mechanizing nature, he doesn’t necessarily want to play God. He keeps as much as he can intact, carefully swapping in just a few parts. He says his work highlights the “confluences between the natural and mechanical worlds.” In the end, Libby describes his work as “eight years of correspondences between unlike things,” and this is certainly accurate. The end results of his efforts are small sculptures that seem to go both backwards and forwards in time. Libby feels his works have a “steampunk aesthetic,” referring to an offshoot of science fiction that roots itself in the Victorian age of industrial, steam-based technologies, but his works sometimes feature modern inventions as well. Libby graduated with a degree in sculpture from the Rhode Island School of Design and has shown his work in New York, Rhode Island and Maine. While he’s shown his bugs in galleries before, it’s not something he’s keen on doing at the moment. So if you want to see these extraordinary creatures in the flesh, you’ll just have to order one of your own. You can find the Insect Lab online at www.insect labstudio.com


ION MAGAZINE 21


the

e c i r P n f

Tide

photography Chris Haylett for Theyrep.com Styling Leila Bani for Theyrep.com Grooming Sonia Leal-Serafim for Theyrep.com Fashion assistant Anna L. Thirkell Model Chris at Richard’s models




PREVIOUS SPREAD: Cape by Belstaff, jeans by Obey, necklace by Richard Kidd, boots by Sorel Kaufman Canada. LEFT: Jacket and shorts by Belstaff, tank top by Richard Kidd, scarf by Etro from Holt Renfrew, sunglasses by Gsus. ABOVE: T-shirt by Process Clothing, collared shirt and pants by Gsus, blazer by Paul Smith from Holt Renfrew.


ABOVE: Sweater and pants by Polo Ralph Lauren from Holt Renfrew, cardigan by Triple 5 Soul. RIGHT: Trenchcoat and shirt by Bertoni, hoodie by Triple 5 Soul, pants by Gsus, shoes are stylist’s own.



ART FASHION

FILM

Words: David Bertrand, Robin Bougie, Robert Dayton, Adrian Mack, Michael Mann and Kliph Nesteroff Illustration: Mike Shantz

MUSIC ION MAGAZINE 28

Us youngsters will never understand the sleazy pleasures of the early cinematic pervert. In the glorious 70s, there was no VHS or Betamax. No DVDs, youTubes, on-demand podcasts, or home theatres. If you wanted grime, you had to go downtown and find it—at a scummy, dangerous grindhouse. That word—probably one of this century’s most badass—is all over town thanks to the impending theatrical take-over of Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez’s new gutter-film extravaganza... Grindhouse. Taking their sleazoid obsessions to the hilt, each writer/director made a 60-minute film which plays back-to-back as a double-feature. Tarantino’s Death Proof stars Kurt Russell as a psycho stuntman slaughtering vixens with his muscle car, while Rodriguez’s Planet Terror has a rag-tag gang—including a chick with a machine gun for a leg—taking on flesh-munching zombies. Between films are fake trailers directed by other fanboys-turned-superstars: Rob Zombie (House of 1000 Corpses), Eli Roth (Hostel), and Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead). Also look for Nicolas Cage as a notorious, racist stereotype Fu Manchu. Clearly, this is all very awesome. But what’s a grindhouse? The 60s fall-out brought free love, drugs, gratuitous violence and callous despondency to the public eye. Vietnam was televised; Deep Throat made pornography mainstream. The gritty new director-driven Hollywood—Altman, Scorcese, Coppola, De Palma, Peckinpah—shifted radically away from weak-kneed studio blowhards, while artsy foreign stuff—Bunuel, Bergman, Godard—took a shit on cinema’s rulebook. Roger

Corman taught producers how to pump out a gazillion cheap flicks a year with shameless marketing, censors loosened up a little. Tits, gore, dirt, nastiness and acid trips were what the new youth culture wanted to see. Enter the lowbrow cinema bliss of the exploitation film. Films sold on scandalousness, sensationalism, and gooey cheap thrills—mostly sex and drug-related—had been around since the 30s, but it was at the turn of the 70s that all kinds of crazy taboo shit was let loose on the world from every corner of the globe. Particularly Italy. Zombies, cannibals, sex slaves, black-gloved killers, lesbian nuns, women’s prisons, post-apocalyptic he-men, “educational” mondo films, martial arts, geysers of spraying samurai blood, blaxploitation, junkies, bikers, girl gangs, acid-crazed hippies gone mad, rape-revenge... Major theatre chains avoided this stuff. Thrill seekers had to go to drive-in theatres—a teenage staple since the 50s—or better yet, their nastier urban equivalent, the grindhouse. These once-thriving inner-city playhouses had turned to bump-and-grind burlesque before finally deevolving into sleazeball movie palaces by the late 60s. New York’s 42nd St.—long notorious for prostitution, peep shows, pimps, perverts and pillpoppers—was the grindhouse Shangri-La until the mid-80s, when city hall shut them all down to make the area more Disney-friendly. Tarantino and Rodriguez grew up adoring this cinematic underbelly... and Grindhouse is their imitative tribute. Not surprising, since Tarantino’s career is based on “homages” to other filmmaker’s cool shit—Reservoir Dogs is Kubrick’s The Kill-

ing via Ringo Lam’s City on Fire, Kill Bill milks the female samurai revenge saga Lady Snowblood, and Tarantino’s portion of Four Rooms apes the climax of an Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode (with a nasty twist). In doing that, he’s had critics and audiences slurping his jock for the last 15 years. Anything attached to Tarantino, no matter how frivolous the association (“Presented by Quentin Tarantino”, “One of Quentin Tarantino’s favourite films”) carries more weight, gravitas and head-nodding approval than a best picture Oscar. But by lauding his influences in every shot and every interview, Tarantino became the gateway for the under-30 generation into the wonders of exploitation. He mentions a film—people watch it. Critics now take “trash” films seriously. And with the wonderful DVD revolution, every neglected hunk of grindhouse greatness has exploded from the scrapheap with a pristine THX-mastered, 3-disc DVD release with ten hours of bonus material. It’s weird that, for sheer options and availability, 2007 is a way better time to be a lover of sleaze cinema than in sleaze’s heyday. It’s all so easily available. The true grindhouse vibe, though, is definitely dead and gone—we’ll all be watching Grindhouse the movie in a multiplex with clean seats and a five dollar taco. And we’ll like it. But next time Quentin, how about restoring crumbling old movie dens throughout the continent by playing your movie there only. Start an anachronistic revolution. People will go if you tell them. And it will be sweet. –David Bertrand


Oesspool Pinemas

ION MAGAZINE

The most grindhousey place on earth was the Deuce in New York’s Times Square back when it was still nasty. The theatres there covered every single cinematic genre of import, namely Martial Arts, Mondo, Cannibal, and Zombie movies, along with Biker, Women in Prison, and Nazi Sex Camp flicks, plus nunsploitation, blaxploitation, sexploitation… all the ‘ploitations, really, all there in one glorious, neon soaked ground zero of sleaze. It’s gone now, replaced by a lot of terrible crap, but you can still see it in the movies if you know where to look. Check out Midnight Cowboy for numerous wintry shots of the fabulous palaces of turpitude, profanity and tits and ass that lined 42nd St. between 7th and 8th Ave., right in its prime. Or Taxi Driver, in which crazed Vietnam vet Travis Bickle takes a girl to see a porno at the notorious Lyric Theatre, and for some reason she spazzes out like a total bitch. If those two movies are a little too “Oscar” for your tastes, the opening sequence of Umberto Lenzi’s cannibal flick Eaten Alive

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ART FASHION

FILM MUSIC

GRINDHOUSE CLASSICS A*P*E (1976. South Korea/USA) | Image Joanna Kerns, of Growing Pains fame, fights a giant killer ape! The King Kong formula has been done many times over in wonders like Son of Kong (1933), Mighty Joe Young (1951), and Mighty Peking Man (1977), not to mention King Kong (1976) and King Kong (2005). But never so ineptly and ridiculously as in the 1976 Korean blockbuster A*P*E—originally shown in 3D! Joanna De Varona stars as the damsel in distress (before she changed her name to the Maggie Seaver you know and love). Unlike far too many monster movies that have you waiting forever until the menacing confrontation, A*P*E starts with crazy monkey destruction right from the get go. No effort is made to help you with suspension of disbelief either as a guy in an obvious ape suit wrestles with toy ships and stuffed animals. They’re supposed to represent actual cattle and an actual navy, and if A*P*E

ION MAGAZINE 30

were an artsy metaphor for some greater political message, perhaps they would’ve succeeded. But that’s not the point. The point is a giant pri-

Blue Sunshine (1976. USA) | Synapse

pessimistic, low budget gut-puncher follows a

Maybe the reason my hair is falling out is due

trio of luckless kidnappers who abduct a virginal

impalement, decapitation, castration, animal

to all the acid I took years ago. That’s what hap-

teenage girl (Susan Sennet) and bury her alive.

cruelty and, of course, cannibalism. This mov-

pened to the characters in this 1977 must see.

They demand a fortune in diamonds as ransom

ie introduced viewers to the concept of “found

Ahhhh, acid. Acid is fun but deadly. A 10 year de-

from her stepfather who happens to have been

real footage” almost 20 years before The Blair

footage we see gratuitous acts of rape, torture,

layed effect from Blue Sunshine acid caused the

looking for a way to get rid of the bratty teen any-

Witch Project. To help perpetuate the belief that

male and female (yes, ladies it can happen to

ways. Unfortunately for Candy, a seven year old

the documentary footage was real, the actors

you) pattern baldness in this pockmarked gem.

mute autistic boy is the only witness to where

signed contracts to not make any public appear-

Oh, and their eyes roll up in their head and they

the kidnappers buried her. The kidnappers get

ances for a year after the film’s release. The trick

become wildly murderously psychopathic. Wigs

more and more desperate, insane, and brutal

worked as the film was confiscated by Italian au-

galore in this well thought out intelligent ex-

as the story unravels. The violence and depravity

thorities and the director was nearly thrown in

ploito. I thought it’d be more far out but I actually

end up out of control, ending the movie in one

jail for making a snuff film. Adding to the con-

applaud that it wasn’t, as it makes it all the more

of the most nihilistic downer finales of its era.

troversy was that the uncut film has six real acts

plausibly scary. Hallucinations mapped out into

This delivers everything one could hope for from

of animal cruelty and is one of the reasons why

a grimly bizarre reality; the look, the vibe, the ac-

a film of this kind: lurid sex, sudden violence,

Cannibal Holocaust has been banned in too

tors and locations all seem to be part of a come

extreme characters, shocking plot turnabouts,

many countries to list off. If reading that incites

down sprung on us, the audience. And we are

and highly quotable dialogue. For decades The

you to write a letter, might we suggest sending it

all better for it. Is it a drug hysteria film? No, it’s

Candy Snatchers wallowed in obscurity thanks

to Sylvester Stallone’s kid? He owns Grindhouse

no Reefer Madness, it’s not based on reactionary

to never having joined the home video or DVD

Releasing, the company that put out the uncen-

fear but more as a type of “What if?” scenario. At

format, and yet it’s infamous reputation thrived

sored DVD last year.

the time that this movie was made, no one had

amongst collectors.

really done any research into the long-term effects of LSD on the human mind as it was too new a drug; though it was known that flashbacks occurred years after ingestion! Blue Sunshine is an important cautionary tale to be sure, one that doesn’t show teens falling off of buildings believing that they can fly. Not that there’s anything wrong with that either.

-Robert Dayton

-Robin Bougie

-Michael Mann

Double Agent 73 (1974. USA) | Image

Cannibal Holocaust (1980. Italy)

Chesty Morgan is the star of this film, and if the

Grindhouse Releasing

fact that a woman named “Chesty” is featured

The most notorious cannibal movie of all time.

doesn’t entice you, then you might as well stop

Four young Americans head off to the Amazon

reading now. Along with its companion picture

to shoot a documentary but never return. So

Deadly Weapons (both released in 1974), this

Professor Harold Monroe (played by Robert

is what you might call a classic in the exploita-

Kerman of Debbie Does Dallas fame) heads

tion film genre. Director Doris Wishman was one

off to the “green inferno” and discovers that

of very few women to churn out pictures for the

mate raising havoc for 87 minutes without any

The Candy Snatchers (1973. USA)

the group were eaten by cannibals. Monroe is

grindhouse circuit, and she did so rather prolifi-

explanation. At one point the ape raises his furry

Subversive Cinema

able to recover the footage and returns to New

cally. Double Agent 73 tells the story of a car-

middle finger to the sky, as if to say, “The joke’s

Incorporating drive-in/grindhouse sleaze with

York to sift through the National Geographic

toonishly endowed woman acting as a secret

on you, movie-goer.” A gem.

classic noir pot-boiler elements, this intensely

documentary gone horribly wrong. In the grainy

agent to bust up (ha, get it?) a heroin ring. In

-Kliph Nesteroff


order to be extra sneaky, she undergoes surgery

Bert let his creative juices flow, 1958’s Attack of

But Goodbye Uncle Tom is not so much a racist

to have a camera installed into her 73 inch bo-

the Puppet People had a crazy twist in which

film as it is a completely misguided and taste-

soms. In potentially the greatest scene in film

the lead characters shrink… and terrorize the

less grindhouse movie. Whatever lessons about

history, she breaks into an office in the middle

American countryside. However, there is a scene

racism there are to be learned, they’ll be large-

of the night, unearths some secret files, tosses

prior to the shrinkage in which the lead charac-

ly overshadowed by the rampant exploitation.

them onto the desk, rips open her shirt, and clan-

ters go to the drive-in and watch… The Amazing

This is the cinematic testament to good inten-

destinely takes photos of them. Why this couldn’t

Colossal Man!

have been done with just a normal every day camera is a question you should never ask. This picture also inspired the far tamer Chesty Anderson, USN.

-K.N.

-K.N.

Goodbye Uncle Tom (1971. Italy)

tions gone completely awry, and it should not be missed.

-R.B.

Blue Underground

Ilsa, Harem Keeper of the Oil Sheiks

You may think you’ve seen some shock-

(1976. Canada/USA) | Anchor Bay

ing and outrageous movies, but you haven’t

Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS is a pretty tasteless wom-

peeped poop until you’ve peeped Jacopetti

an in a prison film set in a Nazi concentration

Joan Collins of Dynasty fame fights giant killer

and Prosperi’s Goodbye Uncle Tom, and their

camp (actually the set of Hogan’s Heroes). Ilsa

ants! Should be enough said, right? However,

even more incendiary Director’s Cut version. This

(Dyanne Thorne), the busty blonde comman-

the real story of this film lies with that of its film-

Italian made, pseudo-documentary race-ploita-

dant, performs brutal experiments to show that

maker, Bert I. Gordon, a nearly talentless man ut-

tion classic from 1971 is the most controversial

women are superior to men, and consequent-

terly determined on his subject matter. In 1957,

and epic cinematic depiction of the American

ly, should be allowed to fight in the war. Even

his picture Beginning of the End told the story

slave trade and its brutal legacy that I’ve ever

though she dies at the end of the movie (sorry

of gigantic grasshoppers terrorizing the coun-

seen. Imagine if modern filmmakers took a trip

to spoil it for you), Ilsa somehow comes back to

tryside, and The Cyclops, made the same year,

to the pre-Civil War American Deep South, and

life for a sequel and is in charge of a Harem for

was the story of a giant one-eyed man terror-

excitedly recorded all the injustices they saw.

a horny oil baron, El Sharif. Ilsa takes kidnapped

izing the Mexican countryside. These were fol-

Rape, torture, children being sold as sex toys,

Western girls, strips them of their clothes and

lowed by The Amazing Colossal Man and War

beatings, racial and sexual humiliation, and the

teaches them how to be good little lovers. The

of the Colossal Beast, both about a gigantic

overall dehumanisation of mankind as it truly

ever-present threat of a hungry rat keeps the girls

man terrorizing the Nevada countryside. 1958’s

existed in America’s not-so-humble past. There’s

obedient. If only Americans would come to the

Earth vs. The Spider has a self-explanatory title.

a lot of angry rhetoric and also some very dis-

rescue! The acting and scripts of most low-bud-

In 1965, Bert G. came out with Village of the

turbing staged modern footage of some Black

get pornos put this film to shame. So why would

Giants, a mod cheapie about gigantic teenag-

Panthers slicing up a white couple and smash-

you watch this? Because Ilsa’s a Canadian cre-

ers terrorizing the adult countryside. Come 1976

ing a honky infant head against a wall like a ripe

ation and you can tell people you’ve seen it, of

it was Food of the Gods which featured gigantic

melon. The movie has been called one of the

course.

farm animals terrorizing the barnyard and coun-

most racist films ever made, and that accusa-

tryside and then 1977’s marvellous Empire of

tion is certainly seeded in the fact that many of

Maniac (1980. USA) | Blue Underground

the Ants. There actually was one film in which

the slaves are portrayed as barely being human.

This movie is mandatory! Earlier and superior

-M.M.

ION MAGAZINE

Empire of the Ants (1977. USA) | MGM

gives you a brief tour of the district, with an especially nice shot of the Harris, a cinema generally remembered as “menacing”, situated next to 42nd St.’s only all male bathhouse, the New Barracks. You probably shouldn’t ask me how I know that. The Harris specialized in unwholesomely sexy thrillers, or “roughies”, like The Dirty Dolls and The Candy Snatchers. Eaten Alive would eventually end up down the street at the Liberty, a relatively upscale venue that went for Eurosleaze garbage like, well, Eaten Alive. If you want something that adds a meta-textual feel to the experience, and also makes you horny, look for Michael Findlay’s Young and Wet; the demented account of a pornographer’s violent demise, set right in the Deuce, with some of Findlay’s other movies still adorning the marquees along 42nd. It’s the closest we’ll ever get to that magical place, in that magical time, although you can always rent Five Fingers of Death while you go through a box of pop-Adrian Mack pers.

31


ART FASHION

FILM MUSIC to Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. Written by

Wild Women, though not as good it’s still an en-

Spider Baby (1968. USA) | Image

kooky theme song! Filmed in justifiably apropos

and starring the great Joe Spinell (Taxi Driver,

joyably nasty romp.

Pretty much all of director Jack Hill’s films are

black and white.

-R.D.

Godfather), Maniac is character driven, dramat-

-R.D.

highly watchable exercises in pure entertain-

ic, gritty, downbeat and sleazy as hell. 1980 NYC

Snuff (1976. USA) | Blue Underground

ment that slip and slide across the exploitation

anyone? Excessive gore by Savini looks impec-

The notorious Snuff begins with porn/exploita-

genre; whether it be his very influential Women

Thriller aka They Call Her One Eye (1974. Sweden) | Synapse

cable—very excessive gore that’s a perfect un-

tion team Michael and Roberta Findlay and their

In Prison movies Women In Cages and Big Doll

“The roughest revenge movie ever made! There’s

flinching fit. A very believable movie, except for

1971 film Slaughter. This Argentinian-lensed

House, his strong female blaxploitation mov-

never been anything as tough as that movie.”

the part where the hot fashion photographer

cheapee was a Manson Family cash-in, poorly

ies Foxy Brown and Coffy, or his violent teen-

(Quentin Tarantino on Thriller, in Total Film mag-

falls for the paunchy pock marked serial killer.

dubbed and kinda boring... despite the bad-ass

age girl gang flick Switchblade Sisters and

azine). Known for appropriating much of what

That’s not so believable. But hey, the DVD has

biker chicks, tan-line tits and Charlie character

so on.... But the one film of his that is nearest

makes his films cool from lesser known exploi-

awesome bonuses: feature trailers, a short doc

named Satãn (!!!). Producer Allan Shackleton

and dearest to my heart is the strange Spider

tation classics, Quentin nicked Darryl Hannah’s

on Joe Spinell, examples of the critical outrage

bought the film and shelved it, until news reports

Baby. Expressionistic and nearly genre defy-

matching eyepatch and attitude from the Swedish film Thriller (or They Call Her One-Eye,

about so-called snuff films—genuine murders,

ing, perhaps loosely falling into horror, relying

filmed for the purpose of entertainment—in-

on eeriness, slow shivers and creeps, and in

as it’s more commonly known amongst movie

spired Shackleton to shoot a new ending and

no way conventionally structured, it fits in with

dorks). The harrowing story of a mute farm girl

Satan’s Sadists is the best biker flick that I have

rename it Snuff. The film now abruptly freeze-

other films of this ilk, films of the Bizarre, films

who unwittingly hitches a ride with a pimp who

ever ever (paste another ‘ever’ here) seen! It is

frames during a pregnant starlet’s murder. Cut to

that are my personal favourites because they

victimizes young ladies by kidnapping them,

seriously extreme! I am getting more and more

the “real” film set, behind-the-scenes. Shooting

share the same previously mentioned charac-

getting them hooked on heroin, locking them

fascinated by director Al Adamson. This movie is

wraps, but the burly director and a young female

teristics: Peeping Tom, Night Of The Hunter, Eyes

in a room and then pimping out their asses un-

this movie garnered and more!

-R.D.

Satan’s Sadists (1969. USA) | Troma

brutal and inhumane and fun! One biker (who

assistant are really “turned on.” They start to frol-

Without A Face, and, hell, let’s throw in Carnival

til their various orifices are blown out n’ crusty.

looks like Lee Hazlewood but with a fake mous-

ic; crew members discreetly roll camera. The ex-

Of Souls as well. Containing heaps of black

She’s not into this so the pimp gouges one of

tache instead of a too legit to quit) is named

cited director then mutilates the girl and yanks

comedy steeped in its own profound dementia,

her eyes out to show her who’s boss. Her inno-

Acid so expect a tripped out sequence. Ahhhh,

out her entrails. “Shit, we ran out of film,” says

Spider Baby is about a family that suffers from a

cence crushed, she thinks of nothing else but

Acid. Acid is fun but deadly. Russ Tamblyn (he’s

the cameraman. End of movie. No credits (This is

hereditary degenerative disease resulting from

revenge, and after gaining enough of his trust

Amber Tamblyn’s dad, kids) plays the leader of

preserved on the DVD which also has no menu).

inbreeding. This disease causes them to have

to be let out of the hump-hovel, gets training in

this utterly remorseless gang of bikers. I have

Snuff was the first film to self-impose a phoney

a taste for human flesh, amongst other things.

martial arts, gun shooting and driving. What fol-

ION MAGAZINE

never seen a gang of bikers so nasty on screen

“Rated X for Violence.” Shackleton anonymous-

Don’t expect large dollops of gore though, this

lows is a roaring rampage of revenge against

before! And there’s a great Vegas style crooning

ly tipped-off newspapers and women’s activist

film has no need for it. Lon Chaney Jr. was not

the pimps and the johns who defiled her, and

soundtrack theme (“By the time I was born I was

groups about a “real” snuff film in theatres, re-

known to turn down roles in a great many B hor-

it’s utterly breathtaking in its sexualized violence.

killing...killing for....Satan”) and some creative

sulting in picketers, protests, banned screenings,

ror flicks towards the sunset of his career but

In the lead role is Christina Lindberg, who many

photography including my fave exploito staple

FBI investigations, intense media coverage and

his performance here as the caretaker is gentle

cult film aficionados (myself included) consider

of action being viewed slightly askew through an

huge profits. Shackleton hardly spent an adver-

and nuanced. Exploitation stalwart Sid Haig im-

to be one of the most beautiful women to ever

old cracked car windshield. I also recommend

tising dime. Snuff remains the mutha of all ur-

presses as the “baby” of the family. Lon Chaney

bust shit up in a 70s exploitation movie.

32

the Adamson female biker gang classic Angels’

ban myths.

Jr. also sings the opening animated creepy and

-David Bertrand

-R.B.


WHERE TO RENT

GRINDHOUSE MOVIES CALGARY

Bird Dog Video 1333 16th S.W. | 403.398.2283 Casablanca Video 2101 33rd S.W. Marda |403.240.3472 2100 4th S.W. | 403.244.4502

named Hal Miller. At the end of 1974, the same

film’s star and villain, Wings Hauser. The movie

year as Willie Dynamite’s release, Roscoe Orman

who sang the theme song to Shaft and pro-

follows a night in the life of Princess (Season

scored the part of “Gordon” on Sesame Street,

MONTREAL

incredible song, “Neon Slime,” screamed by the

Isaac Hayes is best known today as the guy

EDMONTON

Truck Turner (1974. USA) | MGM

The Lobby

Boite Noire

10815 82nd N.W. | 780.433.0600 Alternative Video Spot 10050 82nd |780.439.2233

4450 Saint-Denis | 514.287.1249 42 McGill | 514.844.8727 Phos

vided the voice for Chef on South Park, but in

Hubley), a caring mom who leaves her young

a role he would play everyday for the next 30

a perfect world he’d be best known as the stone

toddling daughter with a babysitter so she can

years. The music is composed by J.J. Johnson,

5417 Chemin de la Cote-des-Neiges

col’ nigga who handcuffed lightnin’ and bitch-

prowl the streets as a no-nonsense whore who

who also put together the funk filled sounds

514.738.1040

slapped thunder in this seminal blaxploitation

ends up getting stalked by a crazy and violent

for the Across 110th Street soundtrack—the ti-

La Septieme

classic. Isaac comes correct as Mack “Truck”

pimp named Ramrod. Her first john of the night

tle theme which was also used by Tarantino in

3606 Ontario E. | 514.596.0854

Turner, a skip tracin’ bounty hunter who is fully

turns out to be an undercover cop, but Princess

Jackie Brown. This one’s a winner.

Video Beaubien

adept at “bustin’ heads and breakin’ jaws”. In

identifies him before she even gets in the car:

Truck’s ghetto world, the pimps are mean, the

“Do I look like a cop?” he asks with a smile.

Zombi 2 (1979. Italy) | Blue Underground

hos are savvy, and the madams are downright

Princess flashes a sexy grin and replies, “Does

Okay, so you’ve seen Day of the Dead, sequel

lethal. Case in point: Star Trek’s Nichelle Nichols’

a teddy bear have cotton balls?” When director

to Dawn of the Dead. Good work. But have you

(Lt. Uhura!) portrayal of Dorinda, a madam with

Gary Sherman was interviewed about the expe-

seen Lucio Fulci’s Zombi 2, the unofficial Italian

an ultra filthy mouth,“the finest bitches around”,

rience of making Vice Squad, he candidly spoke

sequel to Dawn of the Dead? A boat shows up

964 Queen W. |416.530.0006

and a squad of ruthless, blinged-out killers at her

about the fallout his skeezy grindhouse movie

in New York with a zombie stowaway that bites

Queen Video

disposal all hell-bent on blasting Truck’s balls

had in more reputable circles: “I got calls from

the jugular of a harbour patrolman. The police

412 Queen W. | 416.504.3030

off. Yet another entry in American International

John Milius and Martin Scorsese saying ‘Wow,

haven’t even seen Night of the Living Dead and

688 College | 416.532.0555

Pictures fine line up of grindhouse crowd-pleas-

where in the fuck did this come from?’ People in

thus aren’t too concerned. So a reporter and

480 Bloor W. | 416.588.5767

ers. This movie sports intense action, funky mu-

Hollywood were fighting about it. People reacted

the daughter of the boat’s owner begin an in-

Suspect Video & Culture

sic, outrageous characters, and some of the

pretty violently to it. I actually lost a picture be-

vestigation which leads them to an island full

619 Queen W. | 416.504.7135

most entertaining dialogue and situations to be

cause of it.”

of zombies. But screw the plot, here’s all you re-

Vintage Video

ally need to know about Zombie. 1) The score

604 Markham | 416.538.9927

found in the blaxploitation genre. Ultra-under-

750 Beaubien E. | 514.273.6428

is amazing. 2) Fulci’s zombies look better than

Velvet Blue.

This blaxploitation ditty stars a man who you’ve

Romero’s zombies. 3) For no good reason, a

seen act hundreds of times. Maybe thousands.

woman goes scuba diving topless. Underwater

Vice Squad (1982. USA) | Anchor Bay

Roscoe Orman. What’s that? You’ve never heard

she encounters a shark and a zombie. Then

Vice Squad rockets into action with what may

of Orman? Well, in Willie Dynamite (or Willie D.,

there’s an extended underwater fight scene be-

be one of the finest opening credit sequences

as the title theme refers to him) Roscoe plays

tween the zombie and the shark. Just what are

in the history of cinema: A veritable neon mon-

a coke snorting, fur sporting, prostitute exploit-

you trying to suggest with this scene? That being

tage of shitty Hollywood street life jam-packed

ing, BMW driving pimp. Does the actor sound fa-

underwater has an inverse effect on a zombie’s

with skeezy whores, dangerous pimps, dubi-

miliar yet? After strutting to the wawa pedaled

speed and they become lightening quick killers

ous johns, strutting cops, chickenhawks, leather

sounds in this film, Orman was immediately cast

who are capable of fending off sharks with their

men, hoboes, trannies, and bikers—all set to an

in a popular television show replacing an actor

bare hands? Don’t make me laugh. -M.M.

-R.B.

After Dark Video 1043 Bathurst | 416.533.7500 Black Dog Video

Black Dog Video 3541 Cambie | 604.873.6958 1470 Commercial | 604.251.3305 Happy Bats Cinema 198 E.15th | 604.877.0666 Limelight 2505 Alma | 604.228.1478 Videomatica 1855 W. 4th | 604.734.0411

ION MAGAZINE

Willie Dynamite (1974. USA) | Universal

VANCOUVER

rated Yaphet Kotto is amazing as the evil pimp

TORONTO

-R.B.

-K.N.

33


ART FASHION

FILM MUSIC

FAILURE TO LAUNCH Die Mannequin’s CARE FAILURE Words Adam Menceles

ION MAGAZINE 34

Die Mannequin, what does it mean? “It’s the name of a German dictator and it also means spatula in Bora Bora,” says Care Failure, the saucy lady who doubles as the lead singer and guitarist for Die Mannequin, a hard rock band playing out of Toronto. She and I had a very interesting conversation over the phone about life and the meaning of her music. Speaking of meaning, Failure told me, “The story behind the song ‘Autumn Cannibalist’ is about fucking a guy and then killing him.” Sounds pretty normal to me. Intrigued by this, I then asked about one of her bandmates’ nicknames. “Our drummer’s nickname is Ghostwolf because he was raised by Wolves.” She could have been joking (she probably was) but she said it quite seriously. Right... So Die Mannequin’s songs are mostly about love and loss served with a healthy dose of sarcasm. Their new album, How to Kill, is a collection of dark and introspective songs that speak of troubled youth and stories of a hard road traveled. It’s music that will give you a pleasant discomfort and a familiar unease. It’s best received while having a couple of beers and a few smokes in a dark, well used rock ‘n’ roll bar. While listening to Die Mannequin’s songs, you’ll swear you’re hearing a dejected incarnation of Sonic Youth. This gal’s got what it takes to lead

her band into the rough and tumble world of Rock ‘n’ bloody Roll. Die Mannequin are relatively new, having been around for just over a year now. But in their fairly short existence, they’ve already scored an opening spot on tour with Guns N’ Roses. Sure, the only remaining member of GN’R is an aging, braided weirdo with a temper, but nonetheless, the idea is quite kick-ass. I asked Failure to share some tour stories and she quickly recounted everything from strangle-fights with Axl Rose, to antics involving The Trailer Park Boys and Skid Row’s Sebastian Bach. Despite opening for GN’R, Die Mannequin’s sound—ranging from depressingly cool to chillingly morbid—is influenced by bands that are a bit more alternative: Nirvana, The Pixies and Eagles of Death Metal to name a few. Failure went on to share this amusing story about the first concert she ever attended. “I was 16 years old when I left home. One day I just packed up my bags, died my hair bleach blonde so the cops couldn’t track me, and that night I went to a Sonic Youth concert.” Live music is certainly an important part of Failure’s musical identity. She says that if a band can perform live to an audience and still kick ass, they’ve got what it takes to make it. No tricks, bells

or whistles. No mixers, voice doohickeys or fake guitars. The live show is it. A current example of this is Eagles of Death Metal, whom Failure kept raving about. She says,“The Eagles of Death Metal show had to be one of my favourites.” This rocker is a feisty one. She’s not exactly the girly type, but she does have an opinion about women in music. She feels that right now it’s a pretty level playing field when it comes to guys and girls garnering respect as rockers. She also says that she’s not so sure there’s much of a difference between the audiences that male and female artists attract. On the flip side, she believes that female artists currently offer a more novel approach to their music, and can therefore stand out in the crowd. So what exactly did I take away from this interview? There is a dissonance in Care Failure’s personality; she is friendly but appears not to care. This may seem contradictory to her name. Toughness and rebelliousness are strong in this young lass’s character. Failure is bizarrely easy to get along with.There’s comfort in her voice as well as a casual uniqueness that I can’t quite put my finger on. If you crave rock music with a dark ‘n dirty twist, Die Mannequin is ready to teach you how to kill.


ION MAGAZINE 35


ART FASHION

FILM MUSIC ION MAGAZINE 36

Viva LA WOMAN!

MIHO HATORI Words Natalie Vermeer

A lot has happened since Miho Hatori made the move from the Tokyo area to New York to attend art school in the early 90s. Since accidentally letting Cibo Matto take over her studies, she’s made music with Russell Simmons, Beastie Boys, Gorillaz, Sean Lennon, Medeski Martin & Wood, Stephen Merritt, Smokey Hormel, and countless others. Her first solo album finally reached North America in October of last year. Titled, Ecdysis, it covers a lot of Hatori’s life themes, including shedding old skin (and perhaps stereotypes) and substantiating her love of nature. I reached her by phone while she was on her west coast tour. “This [album] Ecdysis, was more of an inner world for me,” Hatori offers, “I’ve never put that kind of feeling in the music in my past so that’s what I want to do. It was really kind of scary because people expect me to [do] more [poppy] and energetic things. But I have more different kind of side as well and I didn’t know how to express that before. I don’t know how the next album is going to be! Some people just have such a big confidence like ‘Oh I have to have my name!’ but for me, I started from [a] band, so it’s completely different.” It’s common for Hatori to sing in languages aside from English.“A Song for Kids,” off of Ecdysis, is done entirely in her native tongue Japanese. I wondered how often she revisited her homeland. “I go back there once, twice in a year, something like that,” she figures,“I go back there; charging my energy, see my family, feel the nature over there. I do love Japan! Take a little trip every time, go to mountains and woods and having hot spring

bath. It’s full of mountains over there and woods. From Tokyo, there’s a place called Hakone which is one hour [and a] half by train [and it] is very easy to get there. Beautiful, beautiful place.” “A Song for Kids” is about pushing young ones to enjoy being young and explore the world around them. Hatori’s musings make it seem like she was encouraged to do the same when she was young. “The funny thing is I’m the only child, so I think I had a lot of time alone to spend [growing up]!” she ponders, “I was a very happy child. I was always playing outside—very active girl—but sometimes that is the fate of the only child! You have to find some way to have fun yourself… I was always collecting insects; that was my favourite thing. Going to little woods and catching beetles and ants and putting so many ants in a jar. All the bugs and things! I always loved to play with something in nature.” Nature themes and analogies pop up frequently on Ecdysis. Her compositions have been compared to Björk in several reviews, for Hatori, women are a source of inspiration in her musical fusions. “Woman, in general, who is working hard, is inspiring to me,” Hatori readily admits, “Not only musicians for me [were inspiring]—even amazing moms. I’m impressed [with] people who are working hard and doing something very positive.” After I press for a specific example, she adds,“I like [this] woman artist, she’s not a musician but she’s kind of like art director of opera and musical. Her name is Julie Taymor and she did Magic Flute

and she did Lion King. All kind of things. Her works are just stunning and just beautiful. So amazing. Really big fan of her and dreaming to meet her one day!” “There [are] so many women that are working in this kind of industry, you know, fashion, music, that kind of stuff,” she continues,“Some things we cannot do as women, we cannot use that much muscle maybe like man, but we can use our brain! I’ve met so many cool women in this experience and it’s really stunning. A lot of woman work hard and I really admire a lot of people!” She did not seem to want to skip over any credit due to men, though. “I think sometimes it’s hard to say because of man [or] because of woman, it’s better! I don’t think answer is that simple. It depends on the person, that’s how I feel,” Hatori explains, “Of course, strong woman is very awesome, but the same time I don’t want to lose the femininity. In Japan, a lot of people consider it’s very hard place for woman but same time, a lot of woman totally taking in charge everything about house, you know what I mean, money and every decision. I grew up in Japan in that system. I just want to be natural, enjoying being female.” “We only have man [and] woman on this world,” she reflects,“We have to respect each other and what we can do! We can’t lift heavy stuff. Sometimes I feel on tour, there’s a huge amp and I can’t carry that! I need man’s help to do that! A good man always loves to help. These are the people we need to give our love and respect!”


ION MAGAZINE 37


THE PACK PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARK MARYANOVICH


When General Ulysses S. Grant defeated Confederate forces in the Mississippi Valley during the Civil War, the losing side asked for terms. Grant declared, “No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender will be accepted.” When guitarist Becky Black and drummer Maya Miller aka The Pack go to war, they too demand unconditional and immediate surrender of their listeners. The story goes: the ladies

haven’t looked back since they immersed themselves in the sounds of Howlin’ Wolf, Son House and other masters of the Mississippi Delta. Now they’re looking forward, forward to the release of their debut disc, Tintype, which sounds like what the blues should sound like if it was done by two gals playing it like they meant it. A lot of coffee helps too. www.myspace.com/blackmillblues




ART

Alice Phieu

FASHION

FILM

MUSIC

ION MAGAZINE

42

POSTER ART


While Alice Phieu may not realize her talents just yet, her naturally whimsical take on the world of poster art is definitely catching the eye of those in the know. Just ask the folks at Pop Montreal, the NXNE Music Festival and the handful of indie rock elite that have asked Alice to create works that are seemingly free of convention and rely solely on her ability to use ordinary tools and good ol’ fashioned brain power for aesthetically pleasing results. Not content to simply scribble in her art blog, Alice has started her own mini-empire, Evil Alice Corp, where one can grab stickers, pins, t-shirts and other goodies. Recently she’s also ventured into the world of music videos (check out the song “Gotta Get Out” on the Myspace page of bubblegum pop purveyors the Bicycles) that’ll help spread the word and good art of Alice Phieu—your wallet and brain will thank you later. alicephieu.com aliceisonfire.livejournal.com

ION MAGAZINE 43


ART FASHION

FILM MUSIC: ALBUM REVIEWS

Alright, Still lily allen Capitol Records

FEAST OF SHAME bRUTAL KNIGHTS DERANGED RECORDS

Already a pop sensation in her native England, with two consecutive top 10

Back Numbers Dean & Britta Zoe/ Rounder

Friend Opportunity deerhoof Kill Rock Stars

Woke Myself Up Julie Doiron Jagjaguwar

Kids with A.D.D. will be all over this

There’s a sweet whimsical dreami-

We can always count on Deerhoof to

The sixth full-length effort by

barely 15 minute shit-storm that is

ness to Back Numbers that is sort

be experimenting with something. On

Canadian indie darling Julie Doiron

singles “Smile” and “LDN”, Lily Allen is

Toronto’s answer to too many nights

of infectious but forgettable. Dean

their eighth full-length release, the

almost feels like two albums: one

poised to take her polished Brit-shtick

in the basement chugging eight balls,

Wareham and Britta Phillips, whose

main experimentation lies in finding

a collection of lo-fi folksy tunes, the

to these North American shores. And

watching kung fu movies and playing

work spans the now defunct but semi-

the most intergalactic synth sounds

other a more amped-up effort featur-

with a posh upbringing backing her

their entire Angry Samoans record col-

nal 90s group Luna as well as recent

available. But no need to worry,

ing her old Eric’s Trip comrades. It’s

early success (father Keith is a semi-

lection at full volume. Barely able to

soundtrack work for the Squid and the

traditional Deerhoof noise jamming

the tunes with the full band backing

known actor/musician/lout, mother

keep up, but keeping it real with songs

Whale peddle on with an album that

still has a place with a 12 minute-

that I find myself returning to when I

Alison is a film producer), critics have

that address what’s on the minds of

shines with such maturity that it will

long finale. The album’s lyrics are not

listen to this disc, as the fuller sound

keenly attacked Lily’s flippant Mockney

today’s troubled youth, the BK army

probably make you forget that Phillips

stimulating (“If I were a man and you

offers a more interesting contrast to

accent, her appropriation of 2step

don’t care that you can’t find them on

was once the voice behind that pink

a dog, I throw a stick for you,” from

Doiron’s wispy vocal than an acoustic

and Reggae beats and penchant for

the interweb, that you have “extreme”

haired cartoon rock star JEM. Their

“Kidz Are So Small”), but of course

guitar does. This winning combo is

starting publicity stunted feuds with

lifestyles and spoil yourself on things

third full-length release as a duo in-

this is not the reason why people

best highlighted on “Wrong Guy,” a

other celebrities. Most of Alright, Still

you don’t need. They just rock like hell

cludes covers of the Troggs, Donovan,

choose to listen to Deerhoof. In fact,

track that originally appeared on her

reeks of marketing group-think and

and don’t look back and that’s good

and a rendition of Ann Margaret’s “You

the simplicity of the lyrics effectively

collaboration album with Okkervil

big bucks: the Dido meets Gwen

enough for me.

Turn My Head Around,” with a charm-

complements the heavily textured

River in 2003. The revamped version

Stefani vocal delivery, cartoon-y pro-

★★★★✩

ing chorus and melody that strings

and unpredictable beats. Combined

features Doiron’s quavering voice

the album along merrily. There’s a

with the sheer adorableness of singer

drowning in noisy guitars when the

Reggae), and an abundance of sassy

mellowed charm throughout the

Satomi Matsuzaki’s voice, the listener

narrator makes her horrifying discov-

disses to the opposite sex. But unlike

tracks, but the subtle simplicities will

can easily imagine being at a daycare

ery at the song’s climax. The album is

some of her pop peers, Allen’s songs

pull you into their dreamy world and

dance party in space. With moments

definitely stronger for the fuller songs,

are rarely memorable. Despite the two

will quickly spit you out.

in the sonic realms of anyone from

but the simple acoustic numbers do

Stereolab to Parliament Funkadelic,

have their charm, particularly on the

Deerhoof have birthed another catchy

record’s final untitled track.

duction (i.e. easily digestible sugary

–Bryce Dunn

aforementioned singles and closer “Alfie” —which is basically Dizzee

ION MAGAZINE 44

★★★✩✩

–Mariz Manansala

Rascal’s “Dream” gone Euro-pop

record sure to satisfy any aspect of an

nightmare—the rest of the album

aural appetite.

★★★★✩

lumps together standard fare with little lasting impression.

★★✩✩✩

–Adam Simpkins

★★★★✩

–Sasha Langford

–Amanda Farrell


You Remind Me of Summer Vacation Mess up the Mess Paroxysm

Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer Of Montreal Polyvinyl

There’s something really 1995 about

“The churches fill with losers/ psycho

Mess up the Mess debut album.

or confused” - Kevin Barnes. One of

Maybe it’s their feminist slant and

the few bands left with ties to the

punky sound that reminds me of

magnanimous Elephant Six collec-

being 11 years old and being intro-

tive, Georgia’s Of Montreal just keeps

duced to music that makes you want

getting better. Their eighth odd studio

to jump up and down and not really

release, and second for Polyvinyl,

care about what they’re really say-

sees main brain Kevin Barnes at his

ing. But their unique lyrical narratives

most depressed and, subsequently,

and melodies are saying something

transcendent. The 80s synths, bub-

worth listening to. Songs like “Crystal

bling drum machines, and floating fal-

Pool” criticize racism in their native

setto make it all too easy to overlook

Washington DC, a constant source

Barnes’ disillusioned lyrics, written

of political angst for the group, while

during a bad time in Norway. Where

the anthemic “F-bomb” attempts to

The Darkness and Scissor Sisters

encourage feminist thinking. Their nu-

use falsetto to mask a lack of talent,

anced sound can be best described

OM succeeds by using it as timely

as Morrissey meets The Go-Go’s, in

punctuation; while the upbeat dance

the least polite, girly way possible.

basslines thoroughly beat the Sisters at their own coked up disco game.

★★★★✩

–Mariz Manansala

This here is the real deal, kiddies. Weird rock rules. Filmore Mescalito Holmes

Disco Romance Sally Shapiro Diskokaine

Up All Night With… The White Barons Gearhead Records

What is it exactly about East Van

Popular culture is half aesthetic and

Led by the husky-voiced harlot, the

these days. Indie rock and girls with

half everything else. With this in mind,

Baroness Eva Von Slut, these grease

boy’s haircuts have replaced the

it is completely predictable that the

balls from the Bay Area channel

junkie/hooker filled streets of yester-

Swedes make pop music with the

the Misfits, Social Distortion and

year. It’s strange that every other city’s

intensity and accuracy that the weird

other tattooed love boys and hot

music making factories are downtown.

cartoon teacher in The Wall made

rod honeys into their turbo-charged

Not literal music making factories.

child sausages. Eyes may roll when

mix of punk ’n’ roll. A match made in

That would be awesome. Punch the

one hears through the musical grape-

muscle car heaven for these cats to

clock. Make music. Punch the clock.

vine that another Swede Pop Princess

be label-mates with the likes of the

Go home. I’m still trying to get into the

has descended from the clouds (Keep

New Bomb Turks, the Dragons and

union, but it’s tough you know? This

in mind that Annie is from Norway...

the Lazy Cowgirls et al. While I grow

album is fantastic. It’s cute and sad

and vapid). Sally Shapiro’s difference

somewhat tired of the genre, it’s good

and perfect for the long, rainy walk to

is that she has a little jackrabbit in

to see what others can do to keep the

work at the music factory. It’s like the

her heart, and not in her throat. Johan

style alive and kicking; because they’d

sonic version of making out with a

Agebjörn produced a delicious gem

most definitely kick my ass if I tried

girl you love that is moving away…

of Italo Disco-inspired tastiness that

telling them that to their face.

forever. Sweet and fun and teary eyed.

is appropriate to listen to at any time

The title track is my favourite; I put it

of the day. Making a record of nearly

★★✩✩✩

on a mix tape I made for a girl I like.

the same tempo throughout without

The production is grand and everyone

sounding like a ?uestlove DJ set is a

in the band looks like models. Except

mountainous undertaking, but Johan

for the drummer Kenton Loewen who

did it. The album’s pillar is clearly the

kinda looks like me—sorry about that.

cover of fellow countryman Nixon’s

Maybe they could come to my house

“Anorak Christmas,” a song that can

and make out and I could fall in love

make any man feel like Jon Bon

with them and they could move away

Jovi to any woman’s Cindy Crawford.

from me…forever. Except, of course,

Remember that video? Purr....

Kenton. Sorry about that.

★★★★✩ ★★★★★

–Ryan Hoben

–Trevor Risk

–Bryce Dunn

ION MAGAZINE

★★★★✩

Touch Up Mother Mother Last Gang Records

45


TALES OF ORDINARY MADNESS HOROSCOPES COMICS ION MAGAZINE 46

TALES OF ORDINARY MADNESS Words Sam Kerr Photography Jason Lang

I went to the dog park to meet my buddy Del and his dog. While there I noticed some interesting things. First, there were numerous attractive women at the dog park. Second, my friend’s dog, a near dead, half blind, stone deaf, bitch, was by far the most popular dog there. I left the park enlightened. I needed a dog of ill health and I needed one bad. No offense to Del, he is a handsome man, but his dog was doing all of the work. That little blind bastard was walking face first into trees and beautiful girls were falling out of them. It was magic. I drove directly to the pound with the full intention of adopting a little bundle of lady bait right then and there. Upon entrance I met a pound volunteer, a strawberry haired firecracker named Ida. I gave her the description of what I wanted: a dog that would die within the year, with a defeated demeanor and, God willing, some visible sign of injury. She smiled and directed my eyes to the back corner of a cage. Scared of all of the other dogs, shivering alone, there stood a three-legged collie mutt. It was hideous and broken, and I was in love. I told Ida that the dog was perfect and she was overjoyed. Smiling uncontrollably, Ida asked why I would want such an old and unfortunate companion. Sensing her warmth, in earnest, I explained that I thought having an ugly dog would help me seduce women. The next thing I knew Ida is shouting obscenities so horrible that they shall not appear in print. Disappointed, disgruntled and defeated, I departed. When that dog and I locked eyes there was a connection. No human had looked at him that way since he was a fourlegged pup, ignorant to life’s cruelty. I needed that damn dog. Later that night I met with my friend Chan. Chan is a man that is not afraid to break the law. I told Chan the tale of the incarcerated canine and my dreams of his liberation. Chan was

touched. He himself had been incarcerated once, so the thought of granting an animal its freedom brought an odd stillness to his face. Chan told me that he would take care of it. The next morning the dog arrived on my doorstep along with a newspaper that had a page three story of a daring robbery at the local pound. With my new friend, whom I dubbed Bill, to the dog park I went. When Bill was off the leash he galloped across the dog park with the magnificence of a three-legged unicorn. It was not long before his beleaguered appearance and his exuberant energy drew positive attention. Bill started sniffing the crotch of some young German Shepard, and then, the crotch of its owner. I grabbed his collar and looked up to see a beautiful blonde smiling from ear to ear. She commented on what a cute old guy Bill was, and then she hinted at the missing leg. I made up a story about having volunteered to build a school in Cuba and during my time there I witnessed the fury of a class five hurricane. Looking out my window, in awe of the howling wind and torrential rain, I first saw him. Bill was a stray pup that had damaged his leg and

separated from his mother. I couldn’t leave him behind. The lie worked and the blonde suggested that we eat lunch together. We took our dogs across the street to a nearby restaurant with a patio. After being seated and receiving our menus I started talking about how truly honest animals are. Then I got arrested. While at the Dog Park I had failed to notice the presence of Ida, who had gone there to look for the missing strays. She saw me with Bill and she called the cops. Getting cuffed in the restaurant probably ruined my chances with the blonde, but that was an afterthought, because they had taken my Bill away from me. Bill was worth a billion blondes. Now I sit alone, in a holding cell at the downtown police station. They won’t let me go because I’ve got no alibi and I won’t flip on my man Chan for freeing the dogs. I’m not telling the man anything, but I will tell you this: the minute I get out of this stinking den of filth I’m going back to that fucking pound, breaking out my boy Bill, and driving to Calgary. I hear they’ve got lots of blondes there.


HOROSCOPES: Robert Dayton Don’t wake up today.

moments and hope for veracity, even as one calls it into question. Nothing is permanent except eternity.

TAURUS

LIBRA

ARIES

March 21-April 20

April 21-May 21

Stare at the sun for as long as you can. Even longer! Prove them all wrong! Note: this magazine is not responsible for any injuries that may result from the Horoscopes section.

GEMINI

May 22-June 21

Sept 24-Oct 23

Don’t order the liver and onion soufflé. It’s really not a good special. The cook was in one of his “experimental” moods again.

SCORPIO

Oct 24-Nov 22

If you see one of your neighbours chasing that yappy little dog that lives down the block with butcher knives, it’s okay. This neighbour is just trying to be helpful. Maybe give a supportive wave or nod to show you mean no ill will. Go inside your house and just piddle around. You’ll find that, although it’s a little tense for a while due to the dog owner’s loud crying and mood swings, your neighbourhood will actually be a much quieter place.

One year from now you’ll realize that you really weren’t cool. Your taste in music sucked (especially that band with the beards), and the deep Vneck tee and bandana/Palestinian scarf looked absolutely stupid on you, just like everybody else. You’ll start questioning your tastes and wonder if they were genuine or real. You’ll set aside your non-individual faux non-conformist hipster elitism. Only then will you hopefully be making the first step to becoming an interesting person.

Cancer

June 22-July 22

Sagittarius Nov 23-Dec 21

Stop being trapped in the confines of negative thought. Think positive! Is it pain you are thinking...or pleasure? Twist that nipple clamp tighter...tighter...tighter...and hold! Now doesn’t that feel good? Mmm. Now apply limejuice.

You know that shiny set of keys in your pocket? Get them out and shake them. Listen to how they jangle. Look at how they sparkle. Holding them half a foot in front of your face, follow wherever these keys take you.

Leo

Capricorn Dec 22-Jan 20

July 23-Aug 22

VIRGO

Aug 23-Sept 23

If this sounds like goodbye, well, I guess it probably is. Treasure those

You have a lot of resentment stemming from getting so few gifts for your birthday due to it falling so close to Christmas. You blame your mother. This affects all of your dealings with women. Go buy yourself a little present today. Call your Mom and force her to call you her “little

AQUARIUS

Jan 21-Feb 19

With the possible exception of Virgo and Scorpio, forget all of those other horoscopes, as they aren’t really all that sincere and meaningful. This one is. Please pass it on to the other 11 signs. What I say is this: think positive and selflessly. You are loved and you are not alone. And you can make a positive impact on someone’s life, no strings attached. It just feels good. There is something greater than this here plane; if you are reading horoscopes you must believe that, and we must do our best to act harmoniously.

PISCES

Feb 20-March 20

That dog next door sure has been barking a lot lately. But it’s not the dog’s fault. The poor thing has unbearable pressure on its brain that causes it to react in gruffly physical ways—a cry for help as it were. That’s where you come in. The best way to cure this sick little canine is through acupuncture. But there’s no way that those thin little needles are going to get through the doggie’s thick skull. You’ll need special acupuncture needles. Go to your kitchen drawer and pull out the sharpest, biggest butcher knives that you can find. Go to the dog. Catch the dog. You can reach its pain center right through its ears with the knives. It should stop barking in no time. It will thank you for it.

Known mostly as a charismatic personality Robert Dayton is also an actor who can be seen as “prom photographer”in the Hot Pockets ad. He’s also a singer/songwriter/showman in the longtime acts Canned Hamm and July Fourth Toilet and in the brand new romantic melodramatic glitter rock act Hallmark: all can be easily found on MySpace. He’s also a writer and artist and potential philanthropist who gives and gives finding ever more to give like a magic penny.

ION MAGAZINE

Today is the last day of the rest of your life. Estimated time: 9:13 PM. But your corpse will be gorrrrgeous! Fuckable even.

seasonal angel” in a cooing maternal voice. Cry and think about going back to the womb. Don’t voice the last sentence as it may cause family problems.

47


TALES OF ORDINARY MADNESS

HOROSCOPES

COMICS

ION MAGAZINE

48




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