Edward Scissorhands

In a 1990 movie, are depictions of mid-century neighborhood and interior design a mockery? I remember being in a kitchen in the late 1980s that still had the 60s design. It looked awfully out of date then. Now the mid-century stuff is appreciated again. I don't understand the cycles of style. If something is aesthetically good, wouldn't it be timeless? Perhaps some elements of mid-century design have overcome the ebb and flow of fashionability to achieve a more timeless respect. 

In what time period is Edward Scissorhands set? The houses, inside and out, are mid-century. But I spotted a few late-70s Fords. A cassette player appears, as do other late 20th century electronics. The mid-centuryism is the film's dominant style and it is beautiful. Mockery or not, I enjoy seeing the mid-century imagery in a 2017 rewatch.

What the hell is the title character? Is he an allegory for a psychologically damaged refugee? Maybe there is no metaphor there. It doesn't matter. To me, the character is brilliantly imagined: A man with scissors for hands, but not horror movie style. A timid and sensitive being who is nothing like us or everything like us.

I adore the flavor of Tim Burton's films. And Vincent Price made me happy in his perfectly suited minor role.

The Splendor of Billy Joel

I listened to all thirteen episodes of "We Didn't Start the Podcast", a snarky and irreverent review of the the Billy Joel catalog. The podcasters begin split--Meg Donahue is a Billy Joel fan, and Adam Ragusea is determinely not.

SPOILER: At the end of the podcast, Ragusea reveals that he does now like Billy Joel because too many of his songs are undeniably good.

The hosts are tough on Joel. They pull no punches with Joel's many false starts, imitations, and dull filler songs. They are no easier on his personal life, ridiculing the highly publicized car accidents and alcohol abuse. They spare no target, including the artist's deepening voice and widening girth.

But both fan and critic acknowledge his talents as a composer and performer that comes through in the countless songs that have become American standards. Meg says the song "Lullabye" alone would put Joel into her top five artists.

Hearing all this, I feel compelled to celebrate my hardcore admiration of Billy Joel's music that began when I was just ten years old. He is a master songwriter who created grade-A music consistently, even when it was interspersed among weaker songs. And he is the master of the lead instrument that drives his songs. Even as he slows down, his live performances continue to be magnificent while he leads his live shows at the piano.

Some of their criticism I think is especially off target. They hear New York State of Mind not as a passionate declaration of Joel's love for a city, but as a young man's pompous belief that he alone can save a metropolis in decline. And they fail to appreciate his masterful ability to tell the stories of our weakest brothers--American solders fighting in Vietnam ("Goodnight Saigon"), factory workers suffering in the face of deindustrialization ("Allentown"), and struggling fishermen ("Downeaster Alexa"). These are three great Billy Joel songs. In fact, they introduced very serious topics to me as an adolescent. Ragusea accept's Billy Joel's critique against suburban sprawl as authentic, because his father grew up in the same town and seconds Joel's impressions.

Most of all, I wish they recognized how Billy Joel doesn't take himself too seriously. In an interview, he mocked how Piano Man is just limericks over a repeating melody. He has always said We Didn't Start the Fire is bad music. And he owns the fact that out of a dislike of his own voice, he is always trying to sound like other musicians.

Joel's personal life has been very publicly messy. But I have to defend him on this charge. If he were a regular schlub, his personal failings would be uninteresting. I know quite a few overweight people with a drinking problem and string of failed relationships. These common cases may be sad, but I don't feel compelled to ridicule them.

When Joel released his last pop album, I was twenty-four years younger. It is interesting to see a highly successful artist stop creating music. I was disappointed as a fan realizing that there would be no more albums. But the alternative might have been worse. What if he continued making pop music, but it were awful. We'll never know what the music could have been like. He has actually given two original pop songs to the world since his last album, perhaps as our only clue to whether he still has it. One is trash ("Christmas in Fallujah") and the other is lovely ("All My Life"). Heck, seeing that one of these songs is any good convinces me that he could very well create a quality album today.