I’ve been obsessed with cinematic montages for several years now. Last winter, while on a health kick, I attempted what would have been a video and photo montage of my progressive weight loss. As a conversation starter, I often ask people what song they’d choose if they were making a montage of their lives. I even downloaded the montage song from the “Team America” movie, which dissects the various montage clichés with tongue in cheek enthusiasm.
The truth is that despite the unabashed lameness of this filmic cop-out, I want nothing more than to star in a montage of my own. I even have a few ideas to get the attention of the next aspiring filmmaker.
Despondent montages are most commonly found in romances and buddy movies, usually following a miscommunication or split between the two parties.
The Song: Nico “These Days.”
In “These Days,” Nico sings her woes with the raspy whisper of an insomniac chain smoker. Set to an actively finger-picked guitar and accompanied by a more sedate string section, the song sounds like how a rainy Sunday feels, especially if your rainy Sundays tend to be unaccompanied by a rhythm section. The sparse instrumentation places a greater emphasis on Nico’s very articulate vocal technique and, consequently, her lyrics. Attentive listeners can’t help but share in the singer’s pain as she carefully dissects the various ways in which her life really sucks.
The Highlights
I walk along the beach barefoot, longingly look at the lake, and dispassionately throw rocks towards the lapping waves (note: sidearm is the most dispassionate throwing technique). I consider calling my estranged friend/lover in several scenes, hesitate before dialing, and eventually opt to sink back into the couch. To conclude, my friends and I will be enjoying ourselves at a local carnival when I accidentally catch a glimpse of a happy couple holding hands and carrying some sort of massive stuffed bear, possibly wearing a gaudy hat. My shoulders hunch, I stare at my feet, and intentionally slow my pace. My friends step ahead of me and I’m alone in the shot for a slow fadeout. If the montage is used for a buddy film, the couple should be replaced with two friends of the same sex, they should not be holding hands, and the bear’s hat should be slightly less gaudy.
Virtually every kung-fu movie has a revenge montage. Some warlord typically murders the patriarchal figure early in the film and the relative/understudy trains for the following 20 years to avenge his mentor’s death.
The Song: Comeback Kid “Wake the Dead.”
This blistering track takes a characteristically East Coast approach to the melodic hardcore, owing equal amounts to Sick Of It All and Bane. With octave solos, a call to “Rise,” a sing-a-long reprise, and a generous serving of gang vocals, “Wake the Dead” occupies the space between cliché and classic. Comeback Kid pulls all those maneuvers we’ve heard a thousand times before but executes them a thousand times better; definitely a song to put on while working on your katana technique.
The Highlights
I begin training and am barely able to complete my various exercises. I have trouble doing sit-ups and my punches fail to sway the heavy bag. To illustrate my intensity and dedication, I climb a steep mountain, in the rain, while carrying what appears to be an overstuffed backpack. I am also inexplicably bleeding from my face. My performing a series of routines is revisited throughout the montage until I complete each one with startling ease and confidence. By the end, I am bicycle-kicking piñatas and doing various exercises while shirtless and screaming, also inexplicably. The montage ends with me breaking my punching bag with a single blow.
After an extended period of frustrated efforts to stifle a ragtag team of cultural stereotypes, the local authority figure has finally had the group disbanded and their dreams crushed. But wait! It was on a technicality. According to the never-read but quickly referenced bylaws, if any team is able to pass an assembly of seemingly unrelated tasks, they will ensure their right to continue operating. Now if only they can get their act together…
The Song: Jefferson Starship “We Built This City.”
Ranked by Blender Magazine as the worst single ever recorded, “We Built This City” is an easily digestible stab at complacency and commercialism. The synthesizer-laced bounce in the verse reeks of neon hot pants and all things 80s. The equally lame chorus comes equipped with such invigorating questions as “Don’t you remember? We built this city on Rock and Roll.” Jefferson Starship’s pump-up rock anthem so half-heartedly sells its corny, PG-13 rebellion, it almost works in its favor. Besides, it was only a matter of time before someone called out those corporations for their “corporation games.”
The Highlights
The camera focuses in on the team captain asleep in bed. My alarm clock sounds at 6:00 am, jolting me awake. I sit up, sigh, and walk off screen just as the opening lines to “We Built This City” begin. The camera cuts to my Ultimate Frisbee team performing their various passing drills underneath the rising sun. Shots include us jogging through downtown Chicago, drinking raw eggs, and studying through the night. Our drills begin to look near perfect and we even get a couple clips of the me laughing amicably with my love interest, who is of course unsure of my maturity and intent. By the end of the montage, we see a team poised and confident, ready to spite the Dean, defeat our rivals, and claim the Ultimate Frisbee trophy. And to think, an entire culture of losing was transformed with two weeks of practice.
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By: Josh Stern Published on: May 22, 2006 |