Yesterday I got to see both the Watchmen movie, and also Of Montreal live. So it pretty much meant that I had the best day ever.
I won’t go too much into Watchmen, seeing as it’s only just come out and I don’t want to spoil peeps, but I have to say, even as an absolute comics nut…I kinda liked the movie better than the comic. I know, I know, I’m going to end up being dragged away to be shot against a wall by Alan Moore. I think it’s just because despite the story being AMAZING, the art of the comic never really grabbed me. I have an aversion to the classic ‘Superhero’ style of comic design, you know, overly muscled bodies, all the same sort of body types and expressions, they just seem so flat and harsh, and I find it difficult to read comics rendered in that style even if the story proves compelling (I had the same sort of trouble with some of the Sandman issues – love the story to bits, but some of the art? Blech). So seeing the story instead told with real people and astounding sets and costumes (and oh lordy thank god they updated the majority of the costumes from the comic. Can you imagine if Nite Owl had been running around in that brown hoodie contraption of a costume from the comic? BAHAHA!), I engaged with the story on far more personal level, and felt the characters more. And really, so much of the movie mirrors the comic down to mimicing actual panels that I didn’t feel that the story had been tampered with or truncated in any detrimental fashion. Fanatical fans of the comic may not feel the same, and probably will find plenty of things to irk them, but for me, it was all highly enjoyable.
Onwards to Of Montreal times! I think the experience of seeing Of Montreal live can be best described as equal parts music gig, interactive art installation and demented panto. Everyone were in costumes, and along with the band were a procession of performance artists: a cardinal who turned into a devil; mock battles between various costumed man-creatures (including Dinosaur Superman!) and a white-tuxedoed man with a tiger’s head; a pink-lyra bodysuited man who carried fruit in the, ahem, “package” area, and proceeded to extract said fruit, messily eat it, then throw the remains into the incoherent crowd.
Speaking of the crowd, I thought I had encountered fanatical crowds before (indeed, had thought I’d seen the most fanatical crowd ever at Death Cab For Cutie a few weeks ago), but this was…this was different. The level of adulation kind of bordered on the scary if you could see what was going on in the front row. There was a group of guys and girls who were dead centre in front of the stage who were completely going out of their gourds – screaming with barely a pause for breath, grabbing onto any member of the band that strayed into the path of their reaching arms and refusing to let go, attempting to steal costumes, throwing presents and flowers onto the stage, dissolving into crying hysterics whenever a band member even slightly acknowledged them – it was actually a bit terrifying, I hadn’t seen anything like it since a My Chemical Romance show a few years ago. And that had been teenage girls going hormone crazy, not people who looked as if they were at least in their early twenties. Madness!
Despite crazy folk, it was a very pleasant crowd to be a part of (definitely one of the loudest and enthusiastic!), and the band seemed to appreciate it greatly. Hopefully the gleeful Aussie reception encourages Of Montreal to come here again. And again! And if you enjoy colourful spectacles accompanied by falsetto-warbled electro-indie songs with pervy lyrics, make sure next time you’re there too.
“Eva, I’m sorry, but you will never have me. To me you’re just some faggy girl, and I need a lover with soul power. And you ain’t got no soul power!”
