Rockers should be loners dosed with heavy helpings of cynicism and a twisted sense of humor. The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club get this — which made them a quick favorite when they burst out of San Francisco's hard-rockin' indie music scene of the late '90s.
Taking the name used by Marlon Brando's posse in the 1951 outlaw biker classic The Wild Ones, they established both menace, dark charm and tongue-in-cheek humor without ever saying a word.
When Black Rebel Motorcycle Club finally did say something, it was a mix of show-gazing snarls, dark harmonies and a guitar crunch that made their 2001 self-titled debut, 2003's "Take Them On, On Your Own" and 2005's "Howl" all underground classics.
The musical inspirations ranged from Rolling Stones' rockin' blues to the trippy trance of The Jesus and Mary Chain, but it was a unique hybird not to found on regular radio. It was a slow-churning buzz that grew show to show, on chat rooms and by word of mouth.
A decade into its recording life, B.R.M.C's mystique has faded a bit — but its ability to changes lives through amplified noise has not.
They have been discovered by Rolling Stone and daily newspapers and their just-released sixth album, "Beat The Devil's Tattoo," has already charted as high as No. 58.
If they aren't careful they could find themselves up for a Grammy or (gasp!) an MTV Music Award.
They may not be an underground delight any longer and the rooms they play are much more polished, but B.R.M.C. still bring the beautiful guitar clatter like few other.
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, 8 p.m. Saturday at House of Blues
There are relatively few actors who can switch back and forth between comedy and drama easily, but Adam Scott is the rare exception. He’s equally as well known for starring in comedy projects like Parks & Recreation, Party Down, and Step Brothers as he is for dramas like Big Little Lies and Severance. He’s going the latter route again in the new horror film, Hokum.
Scott plays author Ohm Bauman, who’s trying to finish his latest book. In an effort to avoid distractions and also pay tribute to his parents, he retreats to an Irish hotel where his mom and dad spent their honeymoon. Bauman, who is about as stand-offish as you can get, and the staff of the hotel are at odds almost right away, although Bauman finds a kind of kinship with Jerry (David Wilmot), a seemingly-homeless man he meets in a nearby forest.
Bauman becomes intrigued with the story of the hotel’s closed-off honeymoon suite, which is said to be haunted. His curiosity, though, seems to trigger a variety of strange things, one of which ends with him in an extended stay at the hospital. He returns to the hotel determined more than ever to discover what’s really happening in the honeymoon suite, with things both normal and supernatural blocking his way at every turn.
Written and directed by Irish filmmaker Damian McCarthy, the film’s approach to horror is both subtle and overt. On the good side is Bauman’s story, which gradually gets deeper as more is revealed about his past, especially the premature death of his mother. Bauman’s trauma over her loss influences his thinking and actions, and a possible connection between his current situation and his personal history broadens the scope of the plot.
There is plenty of creepiness to be found in the film, starting with the dark and decrepit nature of the hotel itself. Any building where a particular room is off-limits naturally inspires intrigue, and McCarthy does a solid job of building tension. That’s why it’s strange and disappointing that he gives in to the lamest of horror tropes - a sudden appearance by an odd-looking person accompanied by a big screeching noise - on multiple occasions.
The film is at its best when it features weird moments that are never or only slightly explained. A dead body in a rabbit suit is echoed by the unexplained broadcast from Bauman’s youth featuring a terrifying TV host with bulging eyes and rabbit ears. Bauman’s explorations take him into the hotel’s basement via a dumbwaiter, where he encounters all manner of strange things, including what seem to be witches. Because most of these things are left to the audience’s imagination, they hit harder in the moment.
Scott is known to be understated in his acting, and that skill works well in this particular role. Although he clearly plays Bauman as freaked out, he never indicates panic, and that level-headedness makes his character someone you want to follow no matter how dark the path might be. The mostly-Irish supporting cast is not well-known, but Wilmot and Florence Ordesh make the most of their short time on screen.
Hokum — a title that is also not explained — is a horror film that earns its bona fides through mood more than action. Even though not much of consequence happens throughout the film, it still keeps you on the edge of your seat trying to figure out what will happen next.
