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    ‘Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry’ Review: Fame and Family

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry’ Review: Fame and FamilyA documentary captures the creation of Eilish’s multiple-Grammy-winning debut album, recorded at home but poised to go global.Billie Eilish granted access to filmmakers at a fragile time when her album’s success wasn’t guaranteed.Credit…Apple TV+Feb. 25, 2021Billie Eilish, the ultramodern pop star who’s both colorfully gothic and establishment-friendly, is a fascinating subject: vividly creative, offhandedly vulnerable, barely visibly self-conscious. And also, a teenager. “Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry,” the new documentary about her rise, finds her shaping global aesthetics while cocooned in a close-knit family, and treats both circumstances with equal casualness. In this film, all of Eilish’s interactions are human-scale, or smaller.“Blurry” — directed, with determined informality, by R.J. Cutler (“The War Room,” “The September Issue”) — doesn’t tell a story about Eilish so much as sit back and presume that one will unfold. Which, of course, it does. Her 2019 debut album, “When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?,” is the product of countless home bedroom recording sessions with her brother, Finneas, who produces all of her music. That album goes on to earn her five Grammys. Cameras were there throughout.And yet “Blurry” isn’t triumphant, strictly speaking. Instead, it relies on the accretive power of the mundane. It moves forward without narration, and sometimes without narrative rhythm — often it feels almost observational, like a nature film. The abundance of footage, and the space it’s given to breathe — the movie is almost two and a half hours long — captures the restless loneliness of superstardom.[embedded content]Eilish’s approach to that fame is both game and shrugging. Her songwriting is visceral and often dark: she shows the journal in which she draws ghoulish scenes and writes poems that may become lyrics, including, in all caps, “I WANA END ME.” Even when the film shows fans clamoring for Eilish, it remains resolute in centering her. In footage drawn from various concerts around the world, the sound focuses tightly on her vocals, turning even arena shows into sites of outrageous intimacy.At times, “Blurry” suggests greater friction happening just out of sight, gently spotlighting the tug of war between Eilish and the expectations placed upon her. Closing in on completing the album, Finneas grumbles, “I feel like I’ve been, like, told to write a hit, but I’ve been told to not tell Billie that we have to write a hit.” Later, when Eilish and Finneas are recording her song for the James Bond film “No Time to Die,” she mopes over the theatrical belting it requires: “I’m gonna get made fun of by the internet when I do it.”Toward the end of the film, as she’s touring her album around the world, fissures appear. Her ankle finally gives out at a show in Milan, and in New York, she bristles at the after-show circus of photo ops with hangers-on, and then again when someone posts online that she had been rude. At Coachella, a frisky, eyes-bugged Orlando Bloom (paramour of Katy Perry) offers hugs backstage, and Eilish also awkwardly meets Justin Bieber, her childhood idol. Bieber is a recurring character here, as an abstract deity, then a generous collaborator, and also as a symbolic foil, a reminder of what happens when teen stardom goes awry.Eilish appears unlikely to unravel before the cameras. Stars are being filmed constantly now anyhow — the gap between social media videos and actual film is shrinking with each passing iPhone camera improvement. That advertorial content has extended into the domain of documentary film isn’t novel anymore.So on the one hand, it’s noteworthy that a rising star like Eilish granted heavy access to a filmmaker long before her debut album was even completed. That is a fragile time, with no guarantee of success, to permit to be captured for posterity.And yet even when Eilish is besieged or bedraggled, there is never anything other than a sense of safety in this footage. The boilerplate language that appears at the end of the film’s credits reminds why: “Interscope Records is the author of this cinematographic or audiovisual work.”Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little BlurryRated R. Running time: Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes. In theaters and on Apple TV+. Please consult the guidelines outlined by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention before watching movies inside theaters.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    14 Largely Skeptical, Somewhat Unconventional Holiday Songs

    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }The Best of 2020Best ComedyBest TV ShowsBest BooksBest MoviesBest AlbumsAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyThe Playlist14 Largely Skeptical, Somewhat Unconventional Holiday SongsHear tracks by U.S. Girls, 100 gecs, Big Freedia and more.Meghan Remy of U.S. Girls sings about consumerism and the climate crisis on “Santa Stay Home.”Credit…Victor Llorente for The New York TimesJon Pareles, Jon Caramanica and Dec. 18, 2020Updated 4:41 p.m. ETEvery Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.U.S. Girls featuring Rich Morel, ‘Santa Stay Home’[embedded content]If you’ve been searching for a Christmas carol that addresses rampant consumerism, the climate crisis, and even the strange mass-tradition of cutting down oxygen-giving pine trees only to throw them in the trash after a few weeks — have U.S. Girls got a song for you! “With both poles melting and the seasons blending,” the frontwoman Meghan Remy sings, “hurry up, slow down.” What saves the song from being too grinchy, though, is its toe-tapping beat and catchy melody, carrying on the U.S. Girls tradition of writing sweet-sounding songs about bitter truths. LINDSAY ZOLADZTayla Parx, ‘Ain’t a Lonely Christmas Song’“Ain’t A Lonely Christmas Song,” a festive offering from the hit songwriter and frequent Ariana Grande collaborator Tayla Parx, begins with humorous anti-sentimentality and Parx crooning, “I’m used to being at the family function showing up with liquor and myself.” But this year is different: “Since you came along, this ain’t a lonely Christmas song,” she sings on the chorus, the whole arrangement suddenly becoming merry and bright. ZOLADZTony Trischka, ‘Christmas Cheer (This Weary Year)’The bluegrass banjo player Tony Trischka wrote “Christmas Cheer (This Weary Year)” years ago for a song cycle about the Civil War, with lyrics envisioning soldiers during a holiday cease-fire: “Let us still our guns and dry our tears, friends and foe alike.” This quarantine year gives new resonance to its chorus: “Christmas cheer this weary year, not like the last you know/Hopefully by the next we’ll be united with our families back home.” The guitarist Michael Daves sings the lead vocal accompanied by virtuosic picking, with a coda of elegant string-band counterpoint. JON PARELESSam Smith, ‘The Lighthouse Keeper’Sam Smith promises comfort, safety and happiness in “The Lighthouse Keeper,” a modern hymn that summons a cappella harmonies, a string section and subdued timpani. As Smith vows, “Don’t resist the rain and storm/I’ll never leave you lost at sea,” the cadence hints at “Good King Wenceslas”; perhaps that’s why they included the lines about “Hoping you’ll be home for Christmas time” for a song that offers far more than a seasonal visit. PARELESFinneas, ‘Another Year’Finneas’s Christmas song is decidedly secular: “I don’t believe that Jesus Christ was born to save me/That’s an awful lot of pressure for a baby,” he croons over cozy parlor-piano chords. Instead, it’s a seasonal love song, oddly tinged with uncertainty and pessimism; he proclaims his love, but adds, “I hope it lasts another year.” PARELESgirl in red, ‘Two Queens in a King Sized Bed’The holiday offering from Marie Ulven — who records as girl in red — sprinkles the dusty reverb of indie rock with enough saccharine chords to make you mindful it’s December without distracting from the song’s true purpose. That would be love, which she gently sings about with lyrics that merge the damp desperation of intense attraction with the wry lingo of holiday capitalism:I don’t have a lot to giveBut I would give you everythingAll my time is yours to spendLet me wrap you in with my skinJON CARAMANICAAlessia Cara, ‘Make It to Christmas (Stripped)’Alessia Cara released “Make It to Christmas” last year as a Phil Spector-style buildup, with drums kicking in for the chorus. Her “stripped” remake brings out the song’s underlying despair. She knows her romance is falling apart, but she just can’t bear the thought of being single during the holiday: “Don’t have me spending it alone/This time of year is precious,” she begs. The arrangement isn’t that stripped — she still has massed strings, chimes and choirlike backup vocals — but without the drums to propel her, hope fades. PARELESJulia Jacklin, ‘Baby Jesus Is Nobody’s Baby Now’“Last Christmas at my auntie’s house, I tried so hard to make my uncle shut his mouth,” sings the wryly observant Australian singer-songwriter Julia Jacklin. But her holiday single “Baby Jesus Is Nobody’s Baby Now” is something much more affecting than a collection of Yuletide punch lines about family dysfunction: It’s a musical short story as vivid and specific as any on her excellent 2019 album “Crushing.” Out of materials as simple as a quietly strummed chord progression and her hushed but evocative voice, Jacklin weaves something as unique and haunting as a spider web. ZOLADZMandy Moore, ‘How Could This Be Christmas?’Slowly swaying, wistful and sweet, “How Could This Be Christmas?” is a vintage-style missing-someone-at-Christmas song. Written by Mandy Moore with her husband, Taylor Goldsmith of Dawes, and Mike Viola from the Candy Butchers, it has piano triplets for a 1950s feel, and a vocal leap up to the word “Christmas” that sounds daring and forlorn each time she makes it. PARELESVíctor Manuelle, ‘Ya Se Ven Las Bombillitas’“Ya Se Ven las Bombillitas” (“The Lights Can Already Be Seen”) is the latest single released from Victor Manuelle’s 2019 Christmas album, “Memorias de Navidad,” which was just nominated for a Grammy. In upbeat salsa, punctuated by horns and laced by runs on the guitar-like cuatro, Manuelle sings about maintaining traditions through generations: both Christmas decorations and the vintage salsa style he upholds. PARELESCorey Porche & Paul ‘Bird’ Edwards, ‘Papa Nwèl Ap Vini o Vilaj’[embedded content]The guitarist Chas Justus gathered top musicians from Louisiana bayou country to make “Joyeux Noël, Bon Chrismeusse,” an EP of Cajun and zydeco arrangements of familiar Christmas songs translated into Cajun and Louisiana Creole. “Papa Nwèl Ap Vini o Vilaj” turns “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” into a genial zydeco shuffle, with accordion tootling and rub board ratcheting away. PARELESBig Freedia featuring Flo Milli, ‘Better Be’Call it sitcom bounce music: Big Freedia takes a bawdy spin on gift receiving on this song from a new seasonal EP, “Big Freedia’s Smokin’ Santa Christmas,” joined by the tart-talking rapper Flo Milli. CARAMANICA100 gecs, ‘Sympathy 4 the Grinch’When your music sounds like a bunch of addled tweens’ playtime, making holiday music likely comes naturally. The chirpy kitchensinkcore maximalists 100 gecs’s seasonal entry, “Sympathy 4 the Grinch,” is all about what Santa failed to bring, and the price he must pay for that transgression. It is the highest compliment to say it sounds like a foulmouthed outtake from an Alvin & the Chipmunks Christmas album. CARAMANICAPup and Charly Bliss, ‘It’s Christmas and I ___ Miss You’This wickedly catchy, obscenity-laced collaboration from the indie-rock bands Charly Bliss and Pup certainly captures the feeling of late-2020 exasperation: The Charly Bliss frontwoman Eva Hendricks is “crying on the couch to ‘Elf’ alone,” while Pup’s Stefan Babcock suggests, “We should call it, because this whole year’s been [expletive] anyway.” The video, though, is unexpectedly poignant: Amid clips of the band members recording their parts of the song remotely is archival footage from tours gone by and taken for granted, in much less socially distanced times. It’s a stirring holiday ode to missing your bandmates, or maybe just your friends. ZOLADZAdvertisementContinue reading the main story More