Film Review: Beastie Boys Story
Growing up a child of the 80's in the NY/NJ/CT Tri-State Area, I remember when I first heard Beastie Boys License to Ill on the radio. I wasn't really a big fan of rap, but I couldn't get the sound of Beastie Boys out of my head. The whining shrill of Adam (Ad-Rock) Horovitz, the pounding drum beats of Mike Diamond (KMike D), and the thrumming of Adam (MCA) Yauch's bass guitar was irresistible enough. But the catchy rhymes sealed the deal for me. I was hooked. And so, when i learned a few weeks ago that Apple TV was going to release a full length, Spike Jonze directed feature chronicling the story of Beastie Boys ('the' is not part of the band's name), I made an appointment with my TV.
The movie isn't so much a movie or a documentary as it is a trip down memory lane, as told by the two surviving members of the band (Diamond and Horowitz) as they stand on stage at the Kings Theater in Brooklyn in front of a packed house of Beastie fans. Camera capture the on stage gags and the audience reactions as the hosts set-up each 'chapter' of their story.
Chapter 1 begins in lower Manhattan with the three founding band members meeting each other. One need not be a Beastie fan to know where they came from, just listen to the accents. I was shocked to learn how young these kids were when, influenced by the Clash and Run DMC, they formed their own punk bands and found places to play. Most were friend's dorm rooms or crappy apartments, but it was a real as their ambition. I wondered to myself where these kids parents were as Horovitz repeatedly tells the crown how often they skipped school to go hang out at record stores and friends' apartments. Soon, they are somehow befriending producer Rick Ruben and the head of upstart Def Jam records Russell Simmons, and the game is on. By chapter 4, still teenagers, they've fallen in with Simmons and have signed with Def Jam. This final part of what I would call Act 1 of the story, starts when the band gets tapped to open up for Madonna on her 1987 World Tour after, as Horovitz tells it, Madonna's first and second choices were either too expensive or unavailable. They go on tour with Madonna and begin what would become their License to Ill calling card: boozy party guy antics and more antics. The booze and idiotic behavior was part of the Beastie Boys brand, and while they ate it up and enjoyed the ride, it wasn't going to last. The old footage and images are wonderful and compelling, and serve as reminder on how committed the three band member were to documenting just about everything they did. The costumes alone are worth tuning in for. I won't spoil what happens next as the band migrates West to Los Angeles, but it is a fun ride.
In the end, this is a powerful, passionate, sad story of love, friendship, loss and music. You won't be able to contain your emotions as the story winds down with the passing of Yauch when he finally succumbed to cancer in 2012. Jonze, Diamond and Horovitz address it in the best way possible, with silence and imagery. This film is a beautiful story and instant must for music fans, even if rap and punk aren't your favorite genres.
The Royals have always stressed elegance and simplicity to achieve their regal look. This year’s models offer subtle tweaks that reinforce their status as the world champs of understatement. The refined script brandishing the Royals’ name remains the same on the snow-white home uniforms, but the “Kansas City” lettering on the road jerseys has been retooled to more closely match the home lettering. There’s also a cool All-Star patch on the right sleeves of both the home and away jerseys because the team will be hosting the game on July 10. Sadly, that’s as close as the Royals will get to having actual all-stars on the team.
The Tribe has returned to the losing ways that inspired the
hilarious 1989 movie Major League. While that might not be good news, a revival of more simplistic
uniforms of that -- and other -- crappy periods in Indians’ history has fans
cheering.
The big changes? A creme-colored alternate home uni with simple,
red-block “Indians” lettering across the chest, paired with a bright red cap that recalls
the uniforms of the crappy Indians of the ’60s.
There’s also an alternate road uniform with the word “Cleveland” in block letters across the
chest. That one comes with a blue cap, emulating the crappy Indians of 1901.
Compared to what looked like prison-issued, beer-league
uniforms for the last decade, the Jays could have switched to hospital gowns
and scored an upgrade. But they’ve done much better than that.
Happily, the Blue
Jays have returned to the uniforms of their back-to-back championship era of
1992 and 1993 with royal-blue hats and the old split-lettering that was displayed on the chests
of such great World Series heroes as Joe Carter and Paul Molitor.
This team was built on tradition.
They chose their original colors to honor the history of New York baseball:
blue for the Brooklyn Dodgers, orange for the New York Giants, and pinstripes
as a salute to the crosstown Yankees. More recently, they benched tradition and looked like a different team almost
every time they took the field. They ditched the pinstripes and broke out black
jerseys and a bunch of different hats. 
With a new city name, stadium and team colors, it’s a fresh start for the fish.
Unfortunately, their new uniforms reek. It’s as if somebody broke into Don
Johnson’s closet and sewed together all of his scariest stuff; the resulting
array of outfits is better suited for a Florida fruit factory than a baseball
field. They’ve got white jerseys with orange caps; black jerseys with black
caps; and orange jerseys with blue, white and teal lettering, fish flying all
over the front of their shirts and an “M” on the cap about the size of a
McDonald’s sign. 
