D.A. Pennebaker’s Monterey Pop

ABC just didn’t get it. When they saw the footage of Jimi Hendrix torching his guitar at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival, they reverted their rights back to D.A. Pennebaker, taking a pass on what would become one of the most iconic concert films in documentary history. Remember that when anyone on the network lectures you about anything. Instead, the film released in theaters in late 1968, the watershed year for the counter-culture. On the fiftieth anniversary of the festival, music and film connoisseurs can revisit and re-evaluate Pennebaker’s Monterey Pop (trailer here) when Criterion’s new 4K restoration opens this Wednesday in New York at the IFC Center.

Much to the trepidation of local authorities, 8,500 eager young-ish folks crammed into the venue, over twenty percent more than were expected, but no harm was done—unless you happened to be a guitar. Many critics were struck by the way Pennebaker soaks up the scene and slyly incorporated ironic bites of audience chatter. However, hipper viewers will notice its aesthetic similarity to Bert Stern’s Jazz on a Summer’s Day, documenting the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival nine years earlier.

At the time, seeing all these acts together in one sitting was a treat. Remember, there was no youtube or itunes back in the day. However, some of the performances have comparatively depreciated with the passage of time and the proliferation of online media, whereas others have gained potency. Frankly, The Mamas & The Papas and The Who feel like they are just doing workaday sets, even if Pete Townsend smashed his guitar at the end of “My Generation.”

Eric Burdon & the Animals do a credible version of the Stones’ “Paint it Black,” but it seems odd to give a cover such prominent placement—of course, their greatest hit was also a cover, so maybe it makes sense in a weird way. Otis Redding certainly came to play and so did Canned Heat doing a very modern sounding take of Hambone Willie’s “Rollin’ and Tumblin’ [Blues],” but they would later generate much more buzz for their appearance in the 1970 Woodstock doc (with “Going Up the Country”). Technically, Hendrix’s “Wild Thing” is yet another cover, but it is undeniably history in the making when he immolates his guitar. Even though it is 1967, you can still see the WTF looks in the front rows (of course, you know all those folks will now boast to anyone who will listen: “I was at Monterey when Jimi set his guitar on fire—and it was awesome).

Ironically, the clear, hands-down, head-and-shoulders-above stand-outs in Pennebaker’s film would now be considered “world music” rather than “pop.” Hugh Masekela has a foot still very much in jazz when performing a stark, stirring rendition of Afropop-flavored “Bajabula Bonke (The Healing Song),” the B-side to hit smash hit single, “Grazing in the Grass.” Appropriately, Monterey Pop ends with an infectiously transcendent performance by Ravi Shankar, with Alla Rakha on tabla. Pennebaker further builds the inherent tension of “Dhun (Dadra and Fast Teental)” by focusing on the increasing ecstatic audience rather than the Indian musicians, until they reach the climaxing crescendo.  Yes, that was one that should still sell downloads.

There is still a good deal of groovy music in Monterey Pop, interspersed with some sardonic observational humor. There were some sad prints out there, but the restoration looks terrific. Frankly, it is more inconsistent than people probably remember, but it remains a cultural milestone. Recommended for fans of 1960s rock and world music, Monterey Pop opens this Wednesday (6/14) at the IFC Center.

American Masters: Jimi Hendrix

It is one of American music’s most tantalizing what’s if’s.  Shortly before his death, Jimi Hendrix and Miles Davis were seriously pursuing some form of musical collaboration. Sadly, it would not come to pass and therefore never factors in a new profile produced for PBS.  Dead at the tragically youthful age of twenty-seven, Hendrix’s career as a headliner only spanned four short years, but Bob Smeaton lovingly documents his every musical milestone in Jimi Hendrix: Hear My Train a Comin’ (promo here), which airs this Tuesday as part of the current season of American Masters.

Hendrix fans only need to know Smeaton turned up some previously unseen footage of the guitar legend absolutely tearing it up at the 1968 Miami Pop Festival to sign on for this Train.  For everyone else, Smeaton (the director of the Beatles Anthology network documentary mini-series and several installments of the Classic Albums series) gives Hendrix the proper American Masters treatment.  Hendrix was a veteran of the Army 101^st Airborne and the chitlin’ circuit.  A broken ankle led to an honorable discharge and years of sideman work with performers like Little Richard.  Most tried to contain him, but the Isley Brothers understood what they had and turned him loose.  They were the exceptions, but eventually Chas Chandler, the former Animals bassist looking to get into the management business, also heard what others just couldn’t get.

Train decently explores the contradiction between the personally conservative Hendrix, the veteran and shy son devoted to his working class father, and Hendrix the flamboyant showman, who shrewdly appealed to emerging hippie market.  Smeaton deliberately downplays the sex and drugs, focusing instead on the personal and the musical, including his formative blues influences.  Of course, the Monterey and Woodstock episodes loom large, understandably given the exposure that resulted from both. However, the sequences chronicling his expatriate period are considerably more engaging, particularly since they feature Sir Paul McCartney and Chandler as the primary talking heads.

Hendrix’s musical legacy is undeniably massive.  However, unless one takes a deep dive into his hugely influential recordings, his all too brief life represents a biographical challenge.  As a result, the nearly two-hour Train is a tad repetitive at times.  Yes, Hendrix did not like talking about himself—we so get that.  Frankly, there are probably ten or fifteen minutes of padding that could have easily been stripped away.  Nevertheless, Smeaton delivers a good dose of what fans will want.  Never sensationalistic and rarely overly hagiographic, American Masters’ Jimi Hendrix: Hear My Train a Comin’ airs this Tuesday (11/5) on most PBS stations nationwide.

Cine Fest Brasil NY ’11: Hey, Hendrix

The impact of American jazz on Brazilian musicians like Antonio Carlos Jobim is well documented. However, the inspiration provided by American rockers is far less documented. Of course, it is nearly impossible to shoulder a guitar in rock band anywhere in the world without acknowledging a debt to Jimi Hendrix. Fans first and filmmakers secondarily, co-director-producers Pedro Paulo Carneiro and Roberto Lamounier present a detailed account of Hendrix’s London years while also interviewing some of Brazil’s best known rockers and MPB artists about their Hendrix experiences in Hey, Hendrix (trailer here), which screens during Inffinito’s 2011 Cine Fest Brasil in New York.

Everyone in New York knew Hendrix could play like a monster, but the studio musician had a rep for being a little different. Former Animals bassist Chas Chandler shrewdly calculated he could more easily break Hendrix out in the smaller UK market and then capitalize on his British cachet in the USA. That part pretty much went according to plan. As a result, aside from a Monterey Pop here and there, all the best parts of the Hendrix story happened in London.

While we certainly hear some of Hendrix’s classic recordings, most of the film’s musical load is carried eerie dead-ringer John Campbell’s Are You Experienced tribute band, who shred through the Hendrix songbook with love and respect. Yet, for amateur musicologists, the film’s most intriguing sequences involve the Brazilian rockers discussing Hendrix’s enduring influence on their music. Novos Baianos guitarist Pepeu Gomes is particularly eloquent (and cinematic in a hard rocking kind of way) discussing the almost ecstatic aspects of Hendrix’s music.

British music journalist Keith Altham (in a decidedly uncinematic skype interview) likens Hendrix to Charlie Parker, Miles Davis and Louis Armstrong for the revolutionary changes he wrought on his field of music. It is a particularly apt comparison, in that Hendrix’s popularity continues to cut across genres, much like that of Davis and Armstrong. Hendrix might have been a pioneer of psychedelic hard rock, but he was remained well attuned to the music’s blues roots. This also comes through loud and clear in Campbell’s channeling of the Hendrix spirit.

Watching a group of MPB artists on the London Rock Tour (one of Hey’s official sponsors) is rather fannish stuff largely lost on American audiences. Still, there is plenty of solid material on Hendrix’s life and legacy (especially with respect to Brazilian music). An interesting film for casual Hendrix admirers (hardcores will have to judge for themselves), Hey screens again this Wednesday (6/15) as Inffinito’s 2011 New York festival continues at the Tribeca Cinemas.