Michael Jackson's This Is It (in theaters tonight for a two-week limited engagement) starts with tears.

It's a prescient moment, as the gushing Jackson backup dancers interviewed no doubt little suspect that their hero will be dead before they ever get the chance to feel the applause.

Starting on that blue note, Kenny Ortega's documentary proceeds to straddle the fine line between fan letter and expose. MJ appears momentarily— looking as prosthetic and skeletal as can be— and I seriously wasn't sure whether I was supposed to cheer or to cringe. Dressed in a series of interesting jackets and never without his shades, Jackson rehearsal-marks his way through a catalog of his greatest hits against a backdrop of stunning green screen film footage created especially for the tour-that-never-was.

Not much else happens. For the next two hours, we watch Jackson be, at turns, megalomaniacal, charming, childlike, creepy and cracked out. It isn't the prettiest of pictures, but it's a testament to his enormous talent that even at his gauntest, freakiest and most drug-addled... he can still dance circles around any of us on our best day.

&featureIf you are someone who would enjoy watching people talk about being straight edge and what it all means for 80+ minutes* (like me!), then you should go to the Grand Illusion at 4 pm for a screening of Edge: Perspectives On Drug Free Culture.

The film features interviews with Ian MacKaye, Ray Cappo, Karl Buechner, Russ Rankin, and many more, as well as music by Minor Threat, Youth of Today, Earth Crisis, Have Heart, and Tristeza.

There will be a Q&A with directors Marc Pierschel and Michael Kirchner afterwards.

(*If you are someone who would NOT enjoy that at all, then please refer to Cocktail Compass, our free iPhone happy hour app, and use it to find the nearest bar and celebrate NOT being straight edge. You lousy drunks.)

I think it might have been Karen O. Okay, maybe the truly most annoying part of the film was when one of the monsters asks Max if, as king of the Wild Things, he'll "keep all the sadness out" or whatever. But I found Karen O's intermittent yelping and howling—and occasional line or two of lyrics—in the score to be an incredibly close, distracting second. And I like Karen O.'s yelping and howling and lyrics. I get that the songs and the singing were supposed to be wild and childlike, and it kind of worked on that level, but her voice is so distinctive and it was so at odds with film's fantasy world. I could've done with an instrumental (or at least less vocal) version the same twee, triumphant indie rock score. (Fwiw, I thought the film itself was cute; my guest thought it was cloying.)

... Harold and Maude, is the Midnight Movie at the Egyptian tonight.

Director Jennifer Maas' feature-length documentary Wheedle's Groove will explore Seattle's underrated funk and soul musicians from those genres' late-'60s/early-'70s heyday (believe it or not, even Kenny G(orelick) was a major player with Cold, Bold & Together). The film is nearing completion, with a release slated for 2010.

Also, look out for Light in the Attic's Sept. 8 release of the superb Kearney Barton LP by Wheedle's Groove. Many of the artists who play on this full-length and who had tracks on the excellent 2004 comp Wheedle's Groove (also on LITA) will appear in the film.

Below's a little preview of what to expect from the doc.

A Karp documentary has been in the works for some time now (it's being directed by Bill Badgley of Federation X), and I had forgotten all about it until a friend of mine just Twittered about this new trailer for the film:

(Thanks Josh Bomb!)

The face-slam beat.

The multiplying layers of sound-clips.

The repetition. The build-up. The punchline.

The Coen Brothers, no stranger to self-promotional greatness, have made the most unique and musical trailer of the year.

They're screening Björk's Voltaic: The Volta Tour Live in Paris. Eric Grandy saw her on this tour in 2007, at which time he wrote:

Björk was gnarly, out-of-this-world magic. Her stage setup was a
proper spectacle of flags, television screens, neon-clad (dare I
envoke "new rave?") backing brass band, and of course, Björk herself.
I'd never seen her before, and though I was excited, I wasn't even
ready for this. She jumped and danced and air-drummed around the
stage, looking positively elfin in a yellow gown. The jumbotrons were
intermittently flickering off or interrupted by horizontal static,
but that eventually-fixed technical difficulty didn't damper her show
in the slightest—nor did her apparently reading some of her own
lyrics off the TelePrompTer that Droste pointed out. Her band—
including the above mentioned brass players, Mark Bell (of LFO) and
another man on electronics, a pianist, and a live drummer—was
incredibly tight and adventerous. Bell's wild, electronic treatments
of older Björk material were especially impressive. And the sound was
perfect—that flutter was gone, Björk's voice was clear and primal,
and the low-end synth and drums were intense even in the open night air.

Things peaked with a mind-blowing rendition of "Army of Me"—green
lasers shot out from the stage and across the amphitheater in perfect
time with the song, and floating down there in the darkness, all made
up in neon robes and surrounded by flags, Björk's stage really seemed
like a cosmic warship landing on Earth. If this is what the aliens
looked and sounded like, I would happily be taken over. The whole set
was incredible, and the song selection was perfect, everything was a
highlight, but especially "Hyperballed," "I Miss You," "All is Full
of Love," "Earth Intruders," "Declare Independence," Hunter," and
"Army of Me." Words more or less fail; suffice to say, I was a casual
admirer of Björk before last night's show, I am now a wholly
converted fan.

The Volta Tour screens tonight and tomorrow night at 11 pm.

While there seems to be sufficient buzz surrounding the documentary, Anvil! The Story Of Anvil, I thought I'd give an additional nudge, just for good measure.

I caught it yesterday, and will say simply that it's more than worthy of everyone's time and consideration.

Upon exiting the theater, I heard a movie-goer emphatically confirm his love of the film by saying to his friend, "that movie &#@*-ing rocked". Aside from unknowingly playing to my love of puns, he was spot &@#(-ing on.

Get there! You'll be glad you did.

I would love to argue over which Wilco album marks the pinnacle of their creative energy. Was it the heavily layered orchestral pop of Summerteeth? The deconstructed melancholy of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot? The hauntingly sparse A Ghost Is Born? The Steely Dan-esque Sky Blue Sky? Really, the debate could go on forever. But there really isn’t much of a debate when it comes to their live performance. Wilco is currently at the top of their game. I mean, have you seen Nels Cline play guitar? Jesus Christ…

The Northwest Film Forum is screening Wilco’s new concert film Ashes of American Flags tonight and tomorrow at 8pm. An added bonus: the film is directed by Burn To Shine directors Cristoph Green and Brendan Canty (also of Fugazi). In the meantime, check out this clip from their show at Marymoore Park back in 2007, and be sure to at least watch til the 1:45 mark.