Martin Scorsese, who’s celebrating the 50th anniversary of his feature film directorial debut this year, has long since earned the right to make whatever type of film he pleases. With classics like Raging Bull, Goodfellas, Gangs of New York, and The Departed under his belt, film aficionados have been thrilled over and over by the filmmaking master.
That said, Scorsese’s latest film, Silence, is likely to satisfy only his most hardcore fans, and even they may be hard-pressed to make it through the film's stultifying 160-minute runtime. The film, set in the 1600s, follows two Portuguese Jesuit priests, Father Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Father Garrpe (Adam Driver), who travel to Japan to track down a missing priest, Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson), and continue his work.
The climate for proselytizing Christians in Japan during that time was harsh, to say the least. Those caught openly practicing Christianity or possessing Christian iconography were often tortured or put to death by the Japanese military. Rodrigues and Garrpe must try to navigate this tricky terrain with the help of friendly countrymen, with no guarantee that those assisting them won't turn on them.
What sounds like a mildly interesting plot soon turns deadly dull as Scorsese, taking a crack at writing — with the help of co-writer Jay Cocks — for the first time since 1995's Casino, takes his sweet time getting to any kind of point. The priests’ mission is seemingly abandoned almost as soon as it begins, replaced with a never-ending series of misadventures with locals.
The only thing worse than the slowness is the repetitiveness. Time and again we are shown scenes of the Japanese military demanding that Christians renounce their faith by stepping on some sort of religious symbol. Some resist, some don’t, but the same scene repeats itself so many times that whatever power it holds on first viewing diminishes exponentially.
The slowness and repetitiveness of the movie rob it of any kind of significant emotions, which makes the overwrought reactions of many of the actors all the more mystifying. Many of them are so maudlin that you’d think they were acting in some sort of soap opera instead of what’s supposed to be a prestige drama.
What seems like a dual star billing of Garfield and Driver winds up being mostly about Garfield. While he has a few moments that allow him to be showcased, he and his Japanese co-stars are brought down by the material, which keeps them stuck in a loop from which there is almost no escape.
Other than the satisfying of Scorsese’s own ego, there’s no reason Silence needed to be anywhere near as long as it is. Cutting a good hour off the running time would’ve allowed him to say everything he wanted to say without falling into the trap of monotony. Sometimes, even masters need to be told when enough is enough.
Only in Austin does recording in a tin can create excellent sound. Specifically, this "tin can" is a 1955 Spartan Imperial Mansion trailer, a spacious mobile home converted into a relatively cramped studio. But the unconventional setup is no match for producer and engineer James Westley Essary.
Essary and his videographer brother, Brantley, have been using the space to build up their inner circle of musicians, capturing intimate performances in professional recordings available on YouTube. Live From The Tin Can premiered its second season on April 15, 2024, and is looking forward to a long string of diverse performances to come. Right now listeners can enjoy Ron Gallo, David Ramirez, Vondré, John Calvin Abney, Angel White, and more on the YouTube channel.
First up this season was Worn-Tin (an amazing coincidence of a name), performing "Hard Ease," "Bitter," and "Kid Changed," a pleasantly lackadaisical series of alt-rock romps, somehow squeezing in two drum sets. Worn-Tin, like many other artists this season on the YouTube series, performed live at South by Southwest in March. The festival, along with the concurrent Luck Reunion, brought a wealth of artists to the Live Music Capital, so the Tin Can crew took advantage of the easy scheduling.
"South By's website is actually a great way to find out who was coming into town," says Brantley. "So we started thinking about things like, what is what is their sound like? What is their performance like, and will that translate into our space? ... [We] just started contacting managers: 'Hey, do you have a free morning, free afternoon? Want to come by?' The sessions only take about a couple of hours."
Although the Essarys are hoping to get more national acts into the Tin Can to boost views, their hope is that over time they can narrow their focus back to local artists. (The series premiere featured Austin band Kelly Doyle.) Beyond the view counts, these recordings are mutually beneficial; Artists don't just get exposure, but lasting high-quality recordings for free, and the brothers get to build a portfolio. Westley, who just goes by his second name in conversation, appreciates the stylistic challenge.
Producer and engineer James Westley Essary does the auditory impossible.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"I get to create a little calling card, [and] they get a way to push their new record when they're rolling through town and on tour," says Westley. "As you put out records you get pigeonholed ... I want to make a punk record, and I want to make a metal record. I want to make a country record. So it allows me to be able to dabble in whatever I want — whatever we book in the studio."
Making these connections was Westley's main goal in creating the series during the pandemic. It'd been a loose idea at the producer's prior studio, with occasional shoots for social media. As we all remember, 2019 was not famous for its sense of urgency. But when the studio was "sold out from under" Westley in October, he got tired of hopping from one rental to another.
He bought the trailer in December 2019 and spent the following year working on it. The end of his work coincided with Brantley's desire to move back to Austin from Seattle, so the returning brother provided the property to park the trailer on. The rest was good, old-fashioned pandemic restlessness.
The Tin Can in all its metallic glory.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"When you're on the road all the time, you're meeting new bands every day, because you have a different opener or something," says Westley. "And I was like, 'How can I bring that to me?' It's a lot of fun when there's not really any money involved. You're not dedicating a ton of time, necessarily, to it. Bands come here, they have a really great time, [and] it's really nice to be able to host them."
Of course, recording in such a small space has its challenges. Most of the solution was in arranging; not the music, but the musicians. Placing everyone just right minimizes the bleed of certain instruments into other microphones, and as long as the singer stays relatively still, the drums — the biggest culprit — mostly keep their sound to themselves.
Some issues are also fixed with slightly quieter playing, unintentionally creating a sort of sonic brand for the series. It's not all bedroom pop, but the combination of a cozy recording environment and slightly restrained volume makes for some homey performances. This also works nicely for Westley — isn't that happening a lot? — who says he usually prefers listening at home to watching in a crowd.
Still, live recordings add a certain spice to the music. Many music fans will attribute it to the organic mystery of musicians clicking together, but Westley thinks there's something else at play. There's no substitute for practice, and by the time musicians are making live recordings, they've probably played the song live dozens or even hundreds of times. That allows for improvements on the original ideas — sometimes ones that originated in the studio at the time of the first recording.
Ron Gallo squeezes into the Tin Can.Still from Live From The Tin Can
It's also an easy way to make additional income without writing more, he says. Brantley points out that live music has always been at the core of the business.
"Live music has been at the top for forever," says Brantley. "Now we've got artists selling out huge arenas. They're competing with the NFL; They're not competing with movies or TV as much anymore. ... So I love the opportunity to not just record live music, but also film it. You're getting a full experience of both the really compelling live recording [and] even more compelling video to watch them in their element — really playing it live rather than just in a box in the studio."
The next frontier for the Tin Can crew will be hosting live shows onsite. Westley will be in the trailer recording while the band plays outside, and eventually Brantley might start capturing video, too. Also down the pipeline are audio-only live recordings, so listeners can enjoy the tunes without relying on YouTube.
One episode featuring NOBRO from Montreal, Quebec, is out now, with more to come. Next up is Evangeline from Los Angeles. Follow along with Live From The Tin Can ("Like and subscribe," says Brantley with a smile) on YouTube.