The 2000s: Hindsight is 10/10 (My Number 5s)

# 5 Album: “Riot on an Empty Street” by Kings of Convenience (2004)

Why is it good?
Because it's easily the best fey-acoustic album of the decade; even better than anything Belle and Sebastian did in the 90s.

With that said, "Riot on an Empty Street" by the Kings of Convenience is perhaps the one item on this list that didn't inspire a particularly strong emotion. This album is the musical equivalent of The San Antonio Spurs - it's not spectacular nor flashy; but it gets the job done. "Misread" is a nice driving-along-the-countryside tune, "Homesick" is a nice quiant number that would make a great theme song for the next breakout pseudo-indie movie, "I'd Rather Dance With You" is a GREAT-sounding song; but I don't think I'll consider any of them as one of the all-time greats ever.

This is clearly a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. Because listening to the album in its entirety is probably the most peaceful and soothing musical experience you'll ever have. Unlike other acoustic acts this decade, The Kings of Convenience aren't concerned about becoming the next Nick Drake or the next Belle and Sebastian. They kinda sound like Simon and Garfunkel, but they have no hippie-ass agenda either. All they care about is finding the closest musical approximation to a cool breeze that's humanly possible. And throughout the album's entire running time, I think they succeeded.

What memories (real or fake) does it inspire?
"Riot on an Empty Street" also proved to be exquisite background music while writing a dream screenplay. I don't know what it is about the music, but it always made me feel like an intellectual. Until, of course, when I finally got to read the damn screenplay.


# 5 Movie: “Funny Ha Ha” (2002)

Why is it good?
In the 2000s, a group of young indie filmmakers in America suddenly became obsessed with "reality". They weren't doing documentary features; but actual movies, only they were made with as much naturalism as possible. Of course, stripped-down cinema was nothing new (read: Linklater, Dogme, etc.). What was new was their approach to dialogue: they weren't scripted and you could hardly describe them as dialogue. Hence the term "Mumblecore".

"Funny Ha Ha" by Andrew Bujalski set the benchmark for this movement. If mumblecore were 90s grunge, then this was its "Nevermind".

The movie centers around the haphazard and rudderless life of young 20-something Marnie, who jumps from one temp job to another, can't find the career she wants, and can't have the guy she wants - her bestfriend Alex.

Much like other mumblecore movies (most of which are copying Bujalski anyway), "Funny Ha Ha" is characterized by non-actors utterring intentionally unpolished dialogue. The effect, of course, is that it feels real; like you're not watching a movie anymore so much as staring at people on the street. But most products of the mumblecore movement are bland and ultimately uncompelling (i.e., "Hannah Takes the Stairs" and "The Quiet City"). Bujalski, though, was able to reach the movement's ceiling. How? By creating the most visceral cinematic treatise on awkwardness ever. What other film movement can pull this off?

In "Funny Ha Ha", every awkward scene feels so real that you feel like shrinking with the characters. With every pause, every "whatever", every "I don't know", every awkward laugh, the movie was able to crystallize the ultimate charm and flaw of modern relationships: that while people exhaust every means of communication, they ultimately communicate very little about themselves.

In the movie, Bujalski gives an intersting insight as to why that happens. The most predominant verbal tic used by the characters is "I don't know". It bested "like" and "whatever" as the go-to expression whenever there's a pause in the conversation that needs to be filled. And these pauses exist because the characters literally "don't know" what they feel anymore; much like how Marnie doesn't know what job she likes or how Alex doesn't know what he exactly feels about Marnie. Welcome to Generation Lost.

What memories (real or fake) does it inspire?
Although the object of Marnie's affections is my namesake, I empathized more with Marnie. I saw this movie at a time when someone was pulling an "Alex" on me. Alex, the character, not me...because it would've been weird if someone pulled myself on myself.

What actually happened was far more confusing than that last sentence. I swear to God.


What does this list say so far?
I think this list's versatility and lack of obviousness would make Barry from "High Fidelity" proud. Have you seen anything from The White Stripes yet? From the fucking Killers? Have you seen "Little Miss Sunshine?" Or "Napoleon Dynamite?" Huh? Huh?

It's good someone's impressed with this stupid list.

album cover from pitchfork.com; movie poster from impawards.com

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