Still flying after 52 years

By Tony Buchsbaum

When I was a kid, my mother bought me a large-trim hardcover called “The Red Balloon.” It was a storybook of photographs, with some text, about a young Parisian boy whose best friend is a red balloon. Odds are you know the story—it follows him around, gets him into some trouble at school, then is burst by evil boys in the neighborhood—so I won’t belabor it, but to me it was pretty miraculous, especially at the end when all those scores of colorful balloons come to rescue the boy, carrying him high above Paris to…well, to someplace where nasty bullies don’t throw rocks at balloons, I suppose.

Anyway, who knew it was a movie? I was a kid. But wouldn’t you know, it was a movie—and the book was comprised of stills from it.

The Red Balloon film, recently released on DVD from Janus Films, is as wondrous as the book was. A scant 34 minutes, it was directed by Albert Lamorisse and stars his son Pascal as the boy—and it is an absolutely and undeniably charming tale of friendship, disappointment, and redemption. The direction is, well, direct, without any sense of artifice. Lamorisse tells his story almost matter-of-factly, shot after simple shot. The film’s power rests almost entirely in just two things: the innocent charm of the his son Pascal’s natural way with the camera (that is, he virtually ignores it), and the knowing, almost winking charm of the balloon itself. It follows the boy, dips, drops, and flies—almost like a dog who’s eager to please.

I found it fascinating, as I was watching, that there seemed to be no special effects trickery in bringing the balloon to life—in the end, it is filled with more personality than helium. It’s very large, shiny, and red, stark in contrast to the gray and brown Paris buildings and rain-dampened streets. I have yet to figure out how Lamorisse made the thing work; it just seems to be, a character fully unto itself. Viewed against the movies made today, when even crossing the street can require a team of people creating some form of computer animation, The Red Balloon is grossly understated. I can’t say enough how simple this film is, and so refreshing in its simplicity. It seems to want for nothing more than to briefly entertain. When it’s over, you’re left story…but also with the nagging notion than while balloons don’t act this way in real life, this particular balloon certainly knows how to act in reel life.

The Red Balloon is a film for the ages…and a film for all ages. I haven’t yet found a way to pry my boys away from their special effects-laden adventures, but as soon as I do, this is what’s going into the DVD player.

Review: Dylanesque Live: The London Sessions by Bryan Ferry

Bryan Ferry
Dylanesque Live: The London Sessions (Eagle Rock Entertainment)

Reviewed by Pedro Blas Gonzalez


Dylanesque Live is a video performance of Bryan Ferry’s recording sessions of his latest album Dylanesque (Virgin Records). The DVD includes four bonus tracks, including a 1973 video of Ferry’s take on Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.” Also of interest are several interviews where Ferry gets an opportunity to explain the rationale -- and justification, for some -- for his choice in recording Dylan songs. Perhaps this DVD and album of the same name will be received differently by the two rather dissimilar camps: Bob Dylan and Bryan Ferry/Roxy Music fans.


However, Dylan fans should take comfort in the fact that other able musicians would want to cover his music. This has been the case with even greater songwriters and lyricists of Tin Pan Alley’s Golden Age like Jerome Kern, Cole Porter, Richard Rogers and Irving Berlin. Their compositions have passed on to become the standards, as these pieces have now been immortalized as being an essential part of the American soundtrack.

Somehow, I get the impression Dylanesque Live will sound more soothing to those familiar with the Bryan Ferry/Roxy Music sound. There are several reasons for this. Dylan fans have had ample time to get used to his twangy voice and inflection. I suppose that, for Dylan purists, that along with his acoustic guitar, harmonica and abrasive lyrics serves as the foundation to embrace his music. For these fans, Bryan Ferry’s arrangements will sound strange, at best.

The Bryan Ferry fan, on the other hand, knows him to be an urbane sophisticate. His music is vitally sensual. As he says in several of the interviews in the DVD, “you try to bring a little character to the songs.” Yet let us not lose sight of the fact that Ferry’s Dylanesque Live is a tribute to Dylan’s music. Thus, part of Ferry’s justification in recording this album is that there is no sound logic and purpose in repeating the Dylan sound.

There’s no doubt that this recording is an interesting mix of folk music and the svelte, midnight sound for which Ferry is best known. “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues” is a fine upbeat example of this musical synchronism. This is perhaps the best song in the album. With harmonica in hand, a truly competent band backing him and four background singers in tow, Ferry truly shines in this piece. “The Times They Are A-Changin” also enjoys a re-vitalization that ought to incite excitement in the Dylan crowd. The beauty of Ferry’s music is the patience that his songs exhibit. When listening to this track one does not get the impression that there is an end in sight, for his songs do not have formulaic beginning, middle and end parts.

Another example of this is the piano-driven “Positively 4th Street.” Chris Spedding, formerly of Roxy Music, delivers a beautiful acoustic guitar solo that, along with the piano makes this song a much more polished and sophisticated sound than the original composition. Of course, Ferry also gets it right on songs like “All Along the Watchtower” with his use of a rather tastefully restrained and not over the top guitar solo. Also surprisingly enjoyable in this latest embodiment is “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door.” Dare I say that this Bryan Ferry recording and DVD actually adds some much needed cosmopolitan lure and spontaneity to these Dylan songs?


Pedro Blas Gonzalez is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Barry University in Miami, Florida. Amongst his intellectual pursuits is his interest in the relationship that exists between subjectivity, self-autonomy and philosophy.

The Pillowman Comes to Vancouver

This has nothing to do with music. Don’t bother me with details!

Finally! We’re there. I’ve said “break a leg” so often today, it’s sticking to the roof of my mouth. (But it’s a nice sticking. An okay sticking.)

I won’t see tonight’s performance, but I’ll be there tomorrow for the official opening night. And deeper in the run, as well. If you’re in the Vancouver area, make a point of taking in the show. It’s really not much more expensive than a movie, but so much more reality than reality television ever offered. (With the added attraction of being completely made up!)

I was delighted to see that The Vancouver Sun made it one of their Critic’s Picks and The Georgia Straight did something likewise, but I can’t yet find the link online. And Wikipedia included it in the international Pillowman performances listed, confirming our guess that this was, in fact, the first Vancouver performance of this important play. The Next Stage Video Listings does a fun interview with Michael Karl Richards and Matthew Harrison here.

All the salient info bits are in this teeny version of the poster, included at left, though you can order tickets directly from the Firehall Theatre here.

Maybe we’ll see you there!

Weinstein Company Options Marley Story

Variety reports that the Weinstein Company has optioned rights to Rita Marley’s 2004 autobiography No Woman No Cry: My Life With Bob Marley (Hyperion), “with plans to develop and produce a biopic about the legendary Jamaican singer.”

The project is in early development, with a late 2009 release date anticipated.

Published by Hyperion in 2004, book chronicles the couple's tempestuous marriage, which began in 1966 and weathered numerous separations and affairs, the birth of four children together (Marley may have fathered as many as 22 in all, 10 legally recognized) and an assassination attempt in 1976.

The Variety piece is here. January Magazine ran an excerpt of the book when it was first published. You can see that excerpt here.

Review: Memory Almost Full by Paul McCartney

Paul McCartney
Memory Almost Full (MPL Communications Ltd, 2007)

Reviewed by Pedro Blas Gonzalez

In an industry that is shamelessly producer driven, people who are responsible for assembling half-competent groups overnight, and who make dress, spectacle and outrage take center stage -- not music -- Paul McCartney proves the value of being an island of talent in a sea of momentary and fashionable refuse.

In Memory Almost Full, his latest inspiration, all tracks are written and composed by McCartney, in addition to playing all instruments except strings. This album closely resembles the musical and creative energy that he displayed in his two other distinctive solo productions, McCartney, immediately before the formation of Wings and McCartney II, coming on the heels of the breakup of that memorable group.

The 13 tracks that make up this album revolve around the theme of the passage of time and ageing. These themes find sublime, poetic expression especially on songs like: “Ever Present Past,” “You Tell Me,” “That Was Me,” “Feet in the Clouds,” “House of Wax” and “The End of the End.” These songs are evocative of the meaning of the album’s title, Memory Almost Full, or what is essentially a reflection on the end of life.

“Dance Tonight” along with “Ever Present Past,” the two signature releases of the album, are both uptempo songs. Characteristic of McCartney’s music, none of these recordings telegraph the punches. Surprise and unpredictability continue to be a staple of his music. The melodies in this album are piano-driven. Even this is interesting, because none of these studio recordings come across as being emblematic of mere rock music. All of the songs accomplish much more than the limitations set by standard rock songs.

For instance, “Dance Tonight” employs a playful mandolin as the dominant instrument and McCartney whistling portions of the catchy melody. “Ever Present Past” is perhaps the best example of his use of guitar riffs. However, refusing to write songs that are moved along by overly aggressive drumming and a frantic tempo, this album is another example of McCartney’s individualistic disregard for the taste of his critics. For the decade that Wings existed, the music press hurled unqualified criticism at the group for not sounding like every other rock group. For his part, McCartney did not tow the line and ended up by creating music that has stood the test of time.

“See Your Sunshine” is a melodic song that displays great interplay of piano and his well respected booming bass, which never exists as mere backdrop rhythm. “Only Mama Knows” begins and ends with beautifully melodic strings. For those looking for a genuinely dyed-in-the-wool rock song, this song will not disappoint.
The acoustic ballad “You Tell Me” is reminiscent of old McCartney downtempo songs. Actually, this song conveys a rather sad quality that bespeaks of the nostalgia of days gone by. “The End of the End” contains some of McCartney’s most pressing lyrics. The song is about how he would like to be remembered. Here, we once again encounter him whistling the melody, as if gentling walking away into some post-mortal realm.

“That Was Me” displays an autobiographical flair, where McCartney is awed by the passing years, from childhood to fame and stardom, and culminating in old age. His bass line in this song is some of his most poignant yet. Jazzy fingering techniques carry this song. “House of Wax,” a quasi-lament, finds him giving his all emotionally.

If forced to choose the most endearing and memorable quality of Memory Almost Full, one would have to say that the lyrics of these songs are some of the most profound and poignant that he has ever composed. This is a moving record that is replete with melodies that will easily become classic McCartney songs. It is also a glaring indictment of just how much talent actually still matters.


Pedro Blas Gonzalez is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Barry University in Miami, Florida. Amongst his intellectual pursuits is his interest in the relationship that exists between subjectivity, self-autonomy and philosophy.

"Sweeney" is to die for

By Tony Buchsbaum

Movie musicals are back, and for a while there it looked like they wouldn't be. A few years ago there was Chicago, which took in buckets of dough and snagged a Best Picture Oscar. And then last year there was the amazing Dreamgirls, for which Jennifer Hudson snagged a Best Supporting Actress Oscar. And now comes one of Stephen Sondheim's most popular, and most often mounted, musicals, Sweeney Todd, for which the advance word is nothing short of spectacular, with notable huzzahs for Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and director Tim Burton.

But my mission here isn't to tell you how great the film is (I haven't seen it). Rather, I'm here to tell you how great the soundtrack is.

This, of course, is not the first time Sweeney has been recorded. There's the original 1979 Broadway Cast Recording, which was fairly recently remastered and reissued, there was a highly-regarded concert version recorded in 2000 at Lincoln Center, and there was a 2005 Broadway revival in which the actors all played musical instruments in addition to acting. (Sounds strange, though the reviews were great.)

This Sweeney, though, is different. Stephen Sondheim himself has stepped up to sort of reimagine his own musical, not changing it so much as allowing it to live as a film animal rather than a stage animal. He deserves a big standing O for doing so. Whole songs have been cut--including what is essentially the title song, "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd"--and others have been trimmed (if not, somewhat appropriately, chopped). What remains is a streamlined Sweeney recrafted for the screen. Burton's vision is not what has ever appeared on Broadway; it is not simply a filmed stage show. Rather, he has Burton-ized it, inserted his fave actor in the title role, and gone to town.

The music is sometimes heart-stopping, and not just because the orchestra is a big one. This is big, important music, and it comes across loud and clear on CD. From the opening credits music (an adaptation of "Ballad"), you know this is a movie of power, of dark themes. The music almost sounds vengeful.

But then the singing starts, with all its references to blood and slaying and revenge and death. There's lighter fare, love songs and funny songs, but this ain't no vapid musical. Nor is it a message piece. This is love and death (especially death), through and through.

The soundtrack features just about everything. In "No Place Like London," Sweeney and his friend Anthony muse about the city: Anthony's vision is lovely, Sweeney's version is bleak and black. In "Worst Pies in London," Mrs. Lovett works too hard to make meat pies that are nothing short of a health hazard. "My Friends" finds Sweeney rediscovering his barber's knives, grooming tools he will turn into weapons. My favorite song, "A Little Priest," finds Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett musing about the taste of pies made from the men whose throats Sweeney cuts in the barber's chair. (Did I mention there's a cannibalistic throughline here?)

My only complaint is Bonham Carter. She's been a dependable, sometimes brilliant actress, but in recent years she's pretty much remained a Burton staple. Here, though charming, she shows a weakness: her singing voice. Can she hit Sondheim's notoriously difficult notes? Yes? But her voice is thin, her delivery a bot forced and breathy. Her Mrs. Lovett may be acted well, but her gusto, her robustness as a character, is missing in the music. You want someone, I think, whose passion matches Sweeney's own: unbridled, unrepentant, unpleasant. As it is, this Mrs. Lovett sounds more like sweetness gone evil in the name of love.

But then, maybe she's a metaphor for the whole bloody musical.

Maria Schneider Orchestra and Sky Blue

If you’ve listened to enough big band jazz, you recognize the pattern easily enough. After the tempo is counted off, the trumpets often roar in with the straight melody, establishing authority and expectations. The theme is handed off, quite frequently to the reed section, who takes the ball and runs with it, generally with a solo taken from within its ranks, only to be answered with a brass solo, followed by a headlong rush with sections trading off eight bar riffs, the rhythm section churning away, concluding with the return of the melody at full blast, and stopping on a dime. In the hands of a gifted composer/arranger like Stan Kenton, Count Basie, Billy Strayhorn, or even the more recent examples of Carla Bley and Toshiko Akiyoshi, the result can be thrilling. But Maria Schneider is in a different game altogether. Her most recent release, Sky Blue, is the culmination of a career dedicated to making a big band sound symphonic and evocative.

Schneider, an admitted protégé of the legendary Gil Evans, who made his arrangements of Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess sound like a string of jazz concertos for band and trumpet (the horn belonging to his partner Miles Davis) has been quietly building an impressive catalog over 20 years. Her music may be challenging to the musician, but it sounds effortless and natural to the listener.

Sky Blue starts simply enough with a pop-like tribute to her home town in rural Minnesota. “The Pretty Road” is a showcase for trumpet soloist Ingrid Jensen, who soars above the band trilling and darting in and out of registers like a kite against a Minnesota sky. Lyric-less vocals from Luciana Souza add an other-worldly air to the piece, which concludes almost abruptly, not unlike passing the Minnesota town of Windom where Schneider grew up on an adjacent interstate.

“Aires de Lando,” despite the Peruvian title, almost sounds like Klezmer waltz at the beginning, thanks to the prominent clarinet of Scott Robinson. Written in 12/8, the trombones provide a pulsing foundation to the tune, as slowly the meter becomes more complex and colorful. Listening to it, I could picture in my mind’s eye an elderly couple sliding across a dance floor in an elegant tango.

The showcase of this CD is “Cerulean Skies,” Schneider’s mediation on birds, and in particular the cerulean warbler, whose recorded call makes an appearance at the end of the piece (other birdcalls are courtesy of the musicians including Jensen, Rich Perry and Schneider herself). Schneider writes extensively in her liner notes about the joys of being a bird enthusiast in New York City. She tells us that in Central Park, not far from her home, “you can easily be transported to a forest far from humanity.” “Cerulean Skies” is definitely a piece about flight, and at over 20 minutes, is a piece that requires a listener’s full attention. Donny McCaslin’s tenor sax brings the listener in mind of a bird circling over a landscape, incessantly calling to its companions (or its mate?) while engaging in aerial gymnastics that a lesser creature attached to the land would envy. Gary Versace’s solo on accordion brings a new dimension to an instrument that is usually relegated to polka bands and novelty acts. The shrill tones, which fade in and out and held a beat longer than you’re prepared for, provide not only some level of tension, but are creatively resolved when chords provide the notion of a squadron of birds singing together.

Schneider’s previous album, Concert in the Garden, received widespread attention when it became the first CD sold exclusively on the Internet to win a Grammy Award. Sky Blue received considerable attention in the jazz press, owing to the sponsorships that Schneider solicited to assist in the cost of producing the finished product. Schneider sells her work through her Web site, which connects to ArtistShare, which is slowly picking up steam in the world of music commerce. While the business model remains intriguing, it has, unfortunately, overshadowed the resulting music. Coming off a Grammy-winning album can’t be easy, but the musical depth of Sky Blue easily surpasses the excellent Concert in the Garden. It is glorious.

Bringing History to Life

By Tony Buchsbaum


If I think back -- way back -- I can sort of remember first hearing the work of composer Mark Isham in his score for Mrs. Soffel, whose soundtrack was released on the Windham Hill label back when Windham Hill released pretty much just New Age music. That was the time of George Winston and his "Autumn" CD...or, rather, LP. Anyway, Mark Isham's score for Mrs. Soffel was a quiet, brooding affair--a far cry from the work of John Williams and John Barry, which I loved--and I loved it just as much.

Since then, Isham has made a career of film scoring, and he's proven again and again just how great he is, in film after film.

To me, though, his pinnacle (so far?) is his music for Bobby, the 2006 film written and directed by Emilio Estevez. If you didn't see it in theaters, see it now. Rent it. Buy it. Just see it. It's a spectacular montage of stories that take place on the day Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. Estevez managed to get permission to film at the hotel just days before its demolition, which makes the movie a fascinating postcard. But even more, it's just a great thing to see. Several stories unfold at the same time, with liberal intercutting from one to another, but somehow Estevez captures just the right moments, the perfect details that bring these characters to life. The husband and wife aching to be happy in their May-December marriage. The Kennedy pollsters who spend the afternoon on an LSD trip. The busboy forced to give up historic Dodgers tickets when he's handed a double shift in the hotel's kitchen. The bored, boozy lounge singer. The aging hotel doorman who can't seem to say gooodbye to the old place. The woman who works in the salon. The hotel manager who's screwing one of the switchboard operators. The young woman who's marrying a classmate just to keep him from having to go to Vietnam.

And the cast? Breathtaking. Anthony Hopkins, Sharon Stone, Shia LaBoef, Laurence Fishburn, Helen Hunt, Ashton Kutcher, Lindsay Lohan, William H. Macy, Demi Moore, Martin Sheen, Christian Slater, Freddy Rodriguez, Elijah Wood. Like their director, each one finds the telltale nuggets that make their characters human, only to see them experience, first-hand, the assassination of RFK.

Just as critical to the actors, the script, and Estevez's deft direction is Mark Isham's score. It's both heroic and heraldic, a deeply moving series of cues that enliven the greater story. Certain characters get their own themes, but the score's primary driver is a grand theme that drapes a musical fabric of shattered dreams, of a lost Americana, over these stories. Blending acoustic and electronic colors, Isham delivers music that works on personal and national levels, if you will, for so many of these short stories are about loss and sacrifice and redemption. They are enduring on this day what the country has been enduring since the murder of JFK, and now, just when the nation has caught its breath after the killing of Martin Luther King, Jr., RFK is taken down. National tragedy mirrored by personal betrayal and disappointment. Somehow, Isham captures all of this. It's miraculous.

At the time of the film's release there was a CD of songs for the film, including the spectacular "Never Gonna Break My Faith." (In addition to the score, the movie is a jukebox of period hits.) But in recent weeks the complete score was released--and it's cause for celebration. It's one of the standout compositions of 2006, and it now brings 2007 to a close, into the 40th anniversary year of the assassination itself.

If Estevez's Bobby is an indelible film, the music Mark Isham made for it is unforgettable. Occasionally light-hearted and tinged throughout with a devastating truth, it is always insightful, bringing new layers to an already multi-layered story.

In the Shadow of No One

By Tony Buchsbaum

I am of certain age, an age at which I can remember, with absolutely zero difficulty, childhood days spent assembling model kits of the Saturn V rockets that took the Apollo astronauts to the moon. My dad and I did these models together. The rocket stood very tall, and the stages separated perfectly, and the Lunar Landing Module had little hinged legs that unfolded so the thing could land on the surface of my bed -- or rather, the moon.

So it's no surprise that I am a huge fan of the new documentary, In the Shadow of the Moon--and in fact have been since I saw the trailer some months ago. The film is essentially talking heads blended with archival NASA footage of the several Saturn rocket launches and Apollo footage shot on the surface of the moon. Most of this (and maybe all of it) has never been seen before now; the director David Sington somehow got them to open vaults that have been closed for almost 40 years, and the result is breathtaking. The images are as clear as if they were shot yesterday; maybe even clearer. This stuff wasn't shot to glorify the missions, but to document them in all their built-in glory.

There's also footage shot on the floor of the control center, and it's filled, edge to edge, with great human drama, from the elation that mirrored the rocket actually getting off the ground, to the utter amazed disbelief when Neil Armstrong actually stepped onto the moon.

But the film, for all its wide-eyed wonder, doesn't skirt the bad news. Many minutes are spent on the accident that killed the astronauts of Apollo 1, which killed Gus Grissom and two others.

Now, as wonderful as this film is (and you should place it high on your must-see list), it's the music that sends it into the stratosphere. British composer Philip Sheppard has created a score that transcends every possible cliche -- and there were many such opportunities; after all, space and space travel have a sound that we've all learned quite well, thanks to heavy hitters like John Williams (Star Wars) and James Horner (Apollo 13).

Instead of setting the zips and zooms of ships to music, Sheppard has opted to score the raw, unfiltered emotion of the adventure we all shared. There's pure Americana here, the golly-gung-ho-ness of it all, but there are also stunning passages of vast wonder. It's the perfect accompaniment to the talking heads of the astronauts, whose own stories of very human excitement, fear, disappointment, and the elation are the real story of this film.

Though I'm tempted to pick out cues from the CD, it's sort of beside the point. The entire score is a wonder, from the high-pitched strains of the opening titles to the the knocks and fiddles that accompany the building of the rockets, from the angelic choir and soaring violins that follow the rockets into the black of space to the synthesized notes that lift the LLM off the moon to the infectious ripples of piano that telegraph the desolation of Apollo 13, when no one was sure Lovell and the others would make it home.

In recent weeks, I have been immersed in this music, and every time I listen, I find new things to love. This is a soundtrack, but it's so much more than that. It's a symphony for us all, inspiring us to remember what it was like when we -- everyone we knew and everyone we didn't know, all over the world -- had a common goal, to reach space not just as Americans but as people.

This is Philip Sheppard's first feature film score, and it heralds the arrival of a great new talent. I can't wait to hear what he does next. His work here makes me remember model kits, afternoons with dad, the unique smell of glue, and the wonderful idea that I, too, could be an astronaut when I grew up.

West Side Stories

By Tony Buchsbaum


Walk into a crowded room and ask for a show of hands if you love West Side Story, and my hands shoots up. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t like the musical, with Leonard Bernstein’s sharp-edged music and Stephen Sondheim’s sharper-tongued lyrics. I was, in fact, named after the ill-fated hero, and the film, which won 10 Oscars, was released the year I was born. So, not that it matters, but I guess I’ll always have a strong tie to the work.

It’s really the original high school musical, if you think about it. Sure, the conflicts can’t hold a match to the recent Disney Channel movies—racism and homicide vs. jealousy and summer jobs—but still.

All of which is why is pains me to say that the new 50th anniversary recording of West Side Story left me feeling flat. Recorded to commemorate the anniversary of the Broadway version of the musical (the film re-ordered song of the songs, I’d say for the better), the new production features Hayley Westenra as Maria and Vittorio Grigolo as Tony. These two have wondrous voices, but they seem distant here, as if they just couldn’t find a new way (or any way) to connect with the famous and oft-recorded material. They’re two of the most celebrated voices of our time, though, so surely someone thought their marquee value was enough. Pity. The recording could have used actors who understood their roles instead of coasting through them; the music soars, but the performances don’t. Maybe the 51st anniversary will get better treatment.

On the other hand, the second Disney Channel blockbuster, High School Musical 2, is really fun, though totally shallow and predictable. Starring Zac Efron and a cast of teen stars, the music is kicky and fun. Forgettable, sure, but isn’t that the appeal of Britney Spears? (Not that she’s in High School Musical 2. I’m just saying.)

The opening song, “What Time Is It,” performed by the cast, is great fun, sung as the kids break free of the tyranny of high school for the summer, where they’ll all find jobs at the same hoity-toity country club in New Mexico. Course, they bring along all the in-school rivalries and jealousies. (The fact the movie debuted in August, at the end of the summer, makes no sense to me, but whatever. Besides, it was the highest rated cable program of all time, so what do I know?)

“Fabulous,” sung by Disney TV star Ashley Tinsdale, is a tribute to her Royal Shallowness, and it’s so silly it works. But the standout numbers are “Gotta Go My Own Way,” sung by Vanessa Anne Hudgens, and “I Don’t Dance,” which, built on the eternal theater kids vs. sports kids conflict, is about as close to West Side Story as this stuff’s ever gonna get.

For anyone looking for their Zac Efron moment, he has one intriguing song, “Bet On It,” but you’ll have much better luck getting your hands on the Hairspray DVD when it comes out on November 20.