Everybody loves beer, movies, and music, right? OK, well, maybe not every single human being on Planet Earth (e.g. straight-edge punks without eyes or ears), but the crowd at Roofless Records' Cinema Sounds #7 was definitely down with the program.
Fed on cheap-ish beer and table wine, roughly 120 people packed into the black concrete screening room at Wynwood's O Cinema. The mini-mob included all three Jacuzzi Boys, artist Autumn Casey (who was recently named to Cultist's 100 Creatives list), the Morphologic-slash-Discosoma dudes, and tons of other local notables.
As Crossfade predicted, it turned out to be "movie night to the nth degree." See the cut for a full video recap.
Just after 10 p.m., Miami gaze punk band Beings laid down six minutes of sludgy psych rock riffage written specifically for Alejandro Jodorowsky's evil hippie epic Holy Mountain.
Now if you've never seen this particular flick, add it to your Netflix queue immediately, order some 'shrooms from your neighborhood grocer, and pay Beings to finish its soundtrack. The mindfuck will be so intense that it'll make Wizard of Oz vs. Dark Side of the Moon seem as trippy as an episode of Charlie Rose.
Next, South Korean auteur Chan-wook Park's Oldboy got the dirge-y rock squall treatment courtesy of local post-hardcore heavies Bulletproof Tiger.
The synopsis: An ordinary middle-aged man with revenge on the brain takes out an entire army of gangster goons. He gets stabbed in the back. Slaughters an entire elevator full of bad guys. And escapes into the city. End scene.
The oddest movie selection of the night was the 1941 rom-com Pot O' Gold, starring Jimmy Stewart as a music lover whose curmudgeonly uncle wants to force him into the family health food business.
Onscreen, Jimmy went to jail, partied with the lowlifes, and then sat down to a choreographed dinner scene while Lake Worth's so-called nimrod rockers Cop City/Chill Pillars rolled through its score: a single circling groove punctuated by lazy caveman chants, eventually tripping into a galloping finale.
Last, Miami post-punk crew Axe and the Oak twisted out some epic, ominous rock noise while the first 17 minutes of Francis Ford Coppola's arty street gang classic, Rumble Fish, flashed up on the screen.
From the opening title through idle hangout scenes, a teen makeout session, and a climactic street fight, Coppola's sharp B&W shots cruised and occasionally zagged alongside Axe and the Oak's swaggering grind. And in the end, there was death, a bit of fadeaway buzz, and a mini-ovation.
