Tag Archives: JFK

Monday Movie Mentions #17…

United 93 (2006)

220px-United93Yeah, I know, it’s hard to believe that it’s been sixteen years since the September 11th attacks – the watershed ‘JFK’ moment of my generation – but here we are, still feeling the effects of that day and living our lives differently because of it.

There are a handful of movies that have been made about the tragedy, but United 93 is as good an account as you will find. It’s probably not the kind of movie you’ll sit through more than once, because you’re not going to get any joy or substance out of a second viewing. It doesn’t pull any punches in its delivery, and it’s impossible to forget what it is you’re watching.

We can argue about how accurate the depiction is, and how much of it was amended and tweaked for ‘dramatic purposes’, but when you’re talking about the single worst act of terror committed against the civilised world, it’s a little redundant to start picking at these things.

United 93 is an extremely tough and sobering film to watch, as rightly it should be, and there’s nothing to smile at here: no levity at all to remind you that these are actors on a stage. But it’s a movie we should not disregard, about a day that we never will.

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Sunday Song Suggestions #14…

Are You Lonesome Tonight? (Laughing Version) – Elvis Presley – 1969

A few days ago it was the fortieth anniversary of the death of Elvis at the age of forty-two… or – if you’re one of those people – the fortieth anniversary of that time he faked his death and went to live on a farm with Marilyn Monroe and JFK.

Elvis was always prominent in my household when I was growing up: my dad loved his music and sometimes performed gigs as him, complete with a bejeweled white jumpsuit that he had specially made. I’ve got the jumpsuit now, tucked away in a suitcase.

Are You Lonesome Tonight? came out in 1960 and is one of Elvis’ most popular songs, although I’ve never really been a big fan of it, however this customised version from a Las Vegas gig in 1969, where he changed one of the lines fifty seconds in, always makes me smile. Unfortunately no video of the gig exists, which is a shame.

The performance humanises him in the simplest of ways – with laughter – and the break in character instantly makes him much more relatable. Listening to it reminds me that he was not just the cultural icon of his generation, and one of the music industry’s first true superstars, but a guy like everyone else. Yes, it’s corny, but sometimes the truth is just that.

Credit has to go to backing singer, Cissy Houston (Whitney’s mum), who never misses a beat throughout the entire performance, and her professionalism in the face of such lyrical anarchy is probably the reason Elvis never manages to get back on track with the song.