#jacob loeb

“That is a fact,” Jacob says after we sit down in the patio of Stories Café in Echo Park. Ben slides his elbow as he rests his chin on his hands, revealing a pack of Marlboro Golds in the pocket of his tattersall shirt. Shaded by his Bernie Sanders baseball cap, Jacob chews on a toothpick as he flips through his memories.

“My first memory of it was, I walked into a room where Ben was playing—I don't know, it had something to do with Jon Brion.”

Ben confirms. “Yeah it was; you liked Jon Brion.”

He turns to me.

“The people who like Jon Brion tend to like other people who like Jon Brion, because there's not many people who like Jon Brion.”

It was a start. But not the official start of Golden Daze. Back then, Jacob was studying theater; Ben, music.

“We were just friends; we lived together. I moved to Portland for like a year and a half. And then,” he points to Jacob.

“You came up on a trip to write, to just hang out—Golden Daze [still] didn't exist at this point, we were just writing songs.”

Jacob smiles as he peels a sliver of the toothpick, placing it neatly on the red plank of a table.

“Yeah, on that trip I took up to Portland —mostly just to visit Ben— we kinda unexpectedly wrote a lot, and it was like, really fun basically. And we're like, ‘Damn we should keep doing this, too bad we live on other sides of the country.’ But we ended up sending each other material over the next half year, year or so, until Ben moved back to LA and then it was kinda time.”

He straightens his back. His fingers fidget as he looks for an opening in that worn down piece of wood.

“To me, that trip to Portland was kinda like the birth of what Golden Daze would become.”

We timeskip to their fateful Craigslist selling experience, where the two inevitably met their lo-fi acid house producer and friend Palmbomen (née Kai Hugo), whose recent release Palmbomen II was inspired in part by a lengthy X-Files binge.

“I mean, it's exactly what it sounds like. Ben was selling his TEAC on Craigslist, and Kai walks in. The joke of the whole thing was Ben was selling his TEAC, but it was actually an ad on Craigslist searching for a producer.”

Ben interjects. “It wasn't actually that— we weren't looking for a producer.”

“No, but that's the joke of it, though!” Jacob reasoned. “We was just trying to sell a Reel-to-Reel but we ended up meeting one of our best friends now, the guy who helped us to produce our record— “

“—who we would have never met otherwise because he's in a whole different scene of electronic music. He was originally from the Netherlands. There would have been no other way to meet someone like that. But I think it had a weird positive influence on us.”

Ben was right. Palmbomen rolled extensively in Europe’s late-2000’s electronic scene, briefly as the filthy bloghaus duo Ganz Nackische before his induction to French electronic label Maison Kitsuné.

In contrast, Ben was pulling backslides for Xsjado and writing folk music. Jacob was working under James Franco in the Bukowski biopic, weaving bedroom pop under the imagined persona BABY BLUE.

“The cherry on top was that the TEAC that Ben ended up selling to Kai was used throughout that record. So in a way, the thing that we sold to Kai, that brought us together, is also what gave our record whatever character it has.”

That je ne sais quoi has been evident in previously released singles “Low”, “Salt” and “Never Comin’ Down.” But weighing equally with Palmbomen’s magic touch were the influences spanning decades. Initially taking inspiration from The Beatles, Todd Rundgren and Simon & Garfunkel, the duo eventually moved on to washed melodies of dream pop and scuzzy textures of shoegaze.

Meager finances played an equally significant role. Jacob’s fingernails peeled off yet another chewed-out splinter of wood. Ben quietly nibbled on the corner of his thumb. Running up several thousand dollars’ worth of studio time was not their prerogative.

“I think a lot of bands try to go beyond their means to get this professional sound, but we just didn't have those resources so we didn't want to pretend like we had. We kept it pretty minimal. But Kai is also experienced with DIY home recording too, so we just tried to make it sound as good as we could for what we had.”

The sun was all but settled, and we wrapped up acknowledging the donkey in the room—Jacob’s public, however apprehensive, display of support for Democratic presidential candidate Bernie Sanders.

“I've never, in my life, felt compelled to be outwardly supportive of any political figure. Even as I wear this hat, I have some hesitation to wear it.”

Ben wasn’t vocal about his political allegiances, but didn’t see anything wrong with it. Many prominent musicians, from Lil B to Thurston Moore, have repped the Vermont senator. To Ben, it was merely a repeat of history, a throwback to the countercultural revolution.

“That used to be a big thing, like in the '60s to early '70s. It just doesn't exist anymore. I think the younger generation wants that, in a way. I've talked to friends from different bands who've said that. There's this feeling like, it would be nice for kids and musicians to be politically active, but there hasn't been a right person to support.”

“It's just been out of fashion or something, out of style,” Jacob observes.

“I think it's a thing now, a little bit.”

Ben shrugs. Jacob turns to me.

“Politics aside, who would you rather hang with? Who would you rather have a beer with?”

Then the film's first "chapter" begins (there are three--the film combines Jason's chapter with the final 3rd person narrated chapter): Benjy.  James Franco is great.  I know the internet has a giant hate-on for him, but he really is good here.  It follows the book really closely, with rapid cuts into the past and back.  Benjy's narrative voice takes the form of a girl(?) child's whispered voiceover ("She smelled like trees", "Quentin liked the shadows", etc.).  I think we get most of the important scenes from Benjy's chapter.  I specifically remember the following, in no particular order:

The children playing at the branch

Damuddy's funeral and Caddy climbing the tree

Caddy's wedding; drunk Benjy; Quentin attacking T.P.

Caddy being "ruined"/washing her mouth out with soap /no longer smelling like trees

Mr. Compson's death

Benjy's section of the film ends with the episode of his slipping through the unlocked gate, grabbing the schoolgirl, and subsequent castration.  It was rough watching (just really intense), and a bit of a relief when we move on...

...to the second section: Quentin.  I'm not gonna lie, this is what I was there for, for a couple of reasons: 1) Quentin's is the section in the book where the least "happens" (it's almost all mental), and I was curious how they'd adapt it, and 2) Quentin is "my heart's darling" like Caddy was Faulkner's--he's such a trainwreck of a boy and he absolutely rips my heart out.  His chapter makes for some of the most gut-wrenching writing I've ever read.

The bad news is that Quentin's chapter is the one most abridged in the film.  These bits were all cut:

Pretty much all of Shreve's interactions with Quentin, except for a brief scene at the beginning

Gerald Bland, Spoade, Mrs. Bland, and Deacon are cut altogether

Most of the plotline with the little Italian girl is cut, and what remains kind of...doesn't make that much sense?  I got the feeling that they had shot more of this story, but then left it out of the finished film.

The good news is that oh God it was worth it.  The guy that played Quentin...where did they find him?  He was phenomenal.  Absolutely perfect.  He had Quentin down pat, in that exact "I-have-so-much-compassion-for-you-and-I'm-also-so-embarrassed-for-you-right-now" way he came across in the book.  Like, he's so earnest and puppydog-ish but he literally can't do anything right and it just HURTS.

Anyway, his chapter begins the way it does in the books, with him lying in bed in Cambridge, listening to his watch.  A good bit of his chapter is like this: the camera tracking Quentin with an intermittent voiceover from Mr. Compson, who delivers some of the more famous lines/monologues (e.g. "I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire...").

Suddenly, probably less than 30 seconds into the opening shot of Quentin lying in bed, we get this incredibly brief shot of him stepping off the bridge into air, and then a shot of the disturbed river bubbling below.  It was so unexpected that a number of people in the audience gasped.  It caught me off guard too.  Then, just as quickly, the camera returns to alive-Quentin in the present, leaving it unclear whether the suicide was a jump into the actual future, or just Quentin's fantasy.  (In the end it doesn't matter--it works for either--but it's ambiguous in the moment).

We then get a number of familiar scenes from the book.  Shreve and an unnamed student (Spoade, maybe) poke their heads into Quentin's room to tease him about his dressy suit and his skipping class.  Shreve notices the letter Quentin has addressed to "Father" and gives Quentin a worried, significant look; Quentin assures him all is well, and they leave him.

We then follow Quentin and his smashed watch to the clock shop, then to the hardware store for the flatirons.  At some point during this scene it seemed to register with the entire audience at once what Quentin was up to, and as the store clerk put the flatirons into the box, a kind of breathy dejected "ohhhh" rose up out of the audience.

It's a shame that the plotline with the mute Italian girl is so shortened.  She appears on the bridge in one scene, and then we see her and Quentin walking through the streets, and then Julio appears and beats the mess out of Quentin.  BUT we're never given any context for any of it--we never see Quentin trying to talk to her, or find where she lives, or anything.  It doesn't make much sense in the film, and loses the heartwarming quality it has in the book.  That's pretty much my only gripe with what IS shown in Quentin's section (aside from the fact that a number of Quentin's thought-lines are given to Mr. Compson here, but, you know, whatever).

So yeah, most of Quentin's section takes place in flashbacks to the summer Caddy is "ruined."  It's all very well-acted and difficult to watch, and all the uncomfortable incest overtones are there (non-book readers definitely got the point, I think).  Included are the scene where Caddy catches Quentin and Natalie in the barn, and the subsequent fight; Quentin threatening Dalton Ames; and the scene by the branch in which Quentin proposes a suicide pact.

There's no point in going over each scene, but hot DAMN that boy can act.  Seriously.  I have no high praise high enough.

I'll just say that the last few minutes of that chapter in the film build steadily in intensity (the soundtrack helps)--but, as in the book, we don't see him jump (well, sort of, we did see him jump at the very beginning, but it's not the same).  The last we see of Quentin is him standing on the edge of the bridge, and then cut to black.  You could hear everyone let out their breath at once.

On to the third and final chapter: Jason/Dilsey/Miss Quentin.  This bit obviously had to be shortened as well, so we don't see, for example, Jason tracking Miss Quentin to Mottstown.

The acting here is great also.  Jason, Miss Quentin, Dilsey, they're all great.  Mrs. Compson isn't as awful and infuriating as she is in the books, but then, I suppose there wasn't really time.  Jason is appropriately awful; Dilsey is lovely and perfect and so much better than anyone deserves; Miss Quentin is...about as well-off as you could expect her to be, living in that house for 17 years.

I saw a lot of people complaining preemptively about Seth Rogen and Danny McBride's cameos, but I couldn't see any problems with them.  I didn't think they were at all distracting; in fact, I genuinely liked McBride as sheriff.  Regardless, they're probably on screen for a combined 2-3 minutes, so everyone can chill.

Scott Haze does a great job of making you feel almost sorry for Jason as he unravels toward the end.  He was there in person to answer questions with the producer after the film.  Unfortunately, another film was being screened after that one, so there was only time for about 4 questions, I think.  That was a bit disappointing (Haze didn't get a chance to say very much), but hey, that's life.