>>MOVIE PICK
Perfume: The Story of a Murderer
PHILLIP VALYS
ENTERTAINMENT EDITOR
Naturally, a film bearing the title Perfume: The Story of a Murderer seems destined to arouse heads of suspicion, not to mention all that mock-derisive hissing not heard since the silly moniker “Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood” was uttered during its theater run. That said, director Tom Tykwer’s magical realist tale manages to breathe lush visuals into an otherwise morbid premise.
Conceived as an illegitimate child in the filthiest marketplace of 18th century Paris – more specifically, underneath a table of rotting fish heads – Jean-Baptiste Grenouille (Ben Whishaw) develops a heightened potency for smell, to the extent that as an adult he lustfully yearns to bottle, harness and preserve every earthly-known fragrance for eternity.
Grenouille’s quest to “preserve scent,” as he terms it, lands the seemingly naive fellow from the basement of renowned perfumer Giuseppe Baldini (a woefully miscast Dustin Hoffman), to a farm where he discovers the sweetest-smelling perfumes are created by extracting the scents of female virgins. The absurdity hardly wanes here, peaking with numerous more eyebrow-raising moments too deliciously campy to spoil here.
Tykwer casts a subdued yet brooding canvas of a Paris in ruins. The richness of set locations, detailed to the smallest nook, suggests extensive research of pre-Revolution France. It shows in the crusty mud on cobblestone paths and on the weather-beaten faces of impoverished workers – even dark alleyways are rendered sinister.
Adapted from Patrick Suskind’s 1986 novel of the same name, this erotically-charged drama wrangles two-and-a-half hours of mesmerized awe from the experience. In a motion picture that professes to unearth the all-too elusive perfect scent, it’s really the visual buffet of majestic – almost poetic – imagery that proves the most winsome.
>>MUSIC PICK
After Hours
JOHN LINNCONTRIBUTOR
Over the past several years there’s been an ever-growing trend among artists to extend their catalog well past their expiration date – i.e. when they’re dead. Tupac did it. Biggie did it. And now, well, you can bet your sweet, little ass that the late, great Godfather of Soul, James Brown, will do it too. Sometime in the near future we’ll be subjected to “Lost Sessions” and other unreleased goodies that Brown mysteriously penned just hours before he got called to that great, too-hot hot tub in the sky. But such is capitalism, my friends. And apparently even the dead need to grease the palms of the gatekeepers above.
While you’re all eagerly awaiting the Best of James Brown, Volume 1091, there’s another more hands-on way you can pay homage. Local hip-hop unit Brokensound Blvd. has gathered up some friends – including Jabrjaw, Dee Dubbs and Protoman – to hold a James Brown Tribute Concert at Ray’s Downtown (519 Clematis St., West Palm Beach). With BSB holding court for the soulful-sí©ance, there’s sure to be plenty of fans dancing around with ants in their pants. The concert begins at 7 p.m. on Sunday, Jan. 21, and it’s only $5 to get in.
