Nashville ’17: Bill Frisell, a Portrait

If you are a professional musician of some name, who hasn’t played with Bill Frisell, you’re probably pretty boring. It certainly doesn’t have anything to do with category. Frisell is best known as a jazz artist, but he can play anything with anyone, including classical string music, experimental hardcore, free improv, folk, roots, blues, and country. He always fits in, yet he always sounds like himself. Emma Franz profiles the superhumanly busy guitarist in Bill Frisell: A Portrait (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 Nashville Film Festival.

Fortunately, Franz talks to a small army of famous musicians who have played with Frisell, because he is not the type to sing his own praises. It is doubly fortuitous, considering two of his most important colleagues are no longer with us. The late, great Jim Hall, with whom he studied and later recorded with as a duo, argues he might have influenced Frisell initially, but in later years, Hall was influenced by Frisell. Similarly, the late and equally great Paul Motian reminisces about the formation of his classic trio with Frisell and Joe Lovano. It is hard to believe they are both gone, but their contributions to Franz’s film provide a nice way to remember them.

Of course, they are not the only musicians offering testimonials. We also hear from Lovano, Ron Carter, John Abercrombie, Jason Moran, John Zorn, Nels Cline, Jack DeJohnette, Bonnie Raitt, and Paul Simon. More importantly, we get to hear him perform in a variety of contexts, including the Motian-Lovano trio, a new trio with Jason Moran, and the avant-garde chamber ensemble, the 858 Quartet. Some of the music swings way harder than you might expect, while some is just arrestingly beautiful, but it is always interesting.

On the other hand, you might have to be a bit of guitar nut to appreciate the countless instruments Frisell show-and-tells for Franz, many of which were hand-painted by relatively well-known artists. Regardless, Frisell’s aw-shucks attitude wears well over time. In fact, he is extraordinarily modest for a man who is probably called a genius several times a day.

Arguably, Nashville is the perfect place to screen Frisell’s documentary. Sure, it is known as a country town, but he has done that too. However, the Nashville studio warriors should be able to relate. They can play anything, anywhere, at any time, as long as the pay is decent. They are also sure to be familiar with at least some of Frisell’s voluminous recorded output. For those coming in cold, Franz and company convincingly establish Frisell’s significance in music today, across genre boundaries, whereas everyone should enjoy the generous musical selections. Highly recommended, Bill Frisell: A Portrait screens Monday (4/24) and Tuesday (4/25) at this year’s Nashville Film Festival.

Film Noir: The Missing Man

The film noir world of railway sleeper cars and smoky jazz clubs might sound like a throwback to the 1940’s. However, reluctant protagonist John Rosow is definitely a creature of the world in which we now live. Like any good anti-hero, Rosow is drinking himself into oblivion, but his angst stems from the tragic events of September 11th in Noah Buschel’s oh-so-noir The Missing Person (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

Formerly an NYPD detective, Rosow is now a low-rent Chicago P.I., who only wants to sleep off his latest bender. Unfortunately his phone will not leave him in peace. For inexplicable reasons, a power attorney is determined to hire him for a tail job. Before he fully realizes it, Miss Charley, his client’s frosty assistant, has bundled him onto an overnight express train to Los Angeles with an envelope of expense money and a heap of contempt.

The first two thirds of Missing often veer perilously close to self-parody, particularly during Rosow’s over-the-top voiceovers. However, the film offers a third act surprise, finding unexpected significance in its post-9/11 premise.

It turns out Harold Fulmer, Rosow’s quarry, was one of the World Trade Center’s “missing” who took advantage of the tragedy to abandon his wife. Fulmer hardly left her in a financial lurch though. In fact, he seems to be a good person engaged in selfless work, despite the sketchiness of his associates. He is even a passionate jazz listener, so he cannot be all bad. Still, Rosow has his own reasons for identifying with Mrs. Fulmer that also involve that hallowed ground in Lower Manhattan.

Following in the tradition of many classic film noirs, Missing effectively employs the blue notes of jazz to evoke the moodiness of its transient, nocturnal world. Making a welcome cameo appearance, tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano is seen and heard playing in a New York night club. Missing also makes effective use of classic Bud Powell recordings, like “Glass Enclosure,” of which Fulmer is a professed fan.

While Missing’s shrewdly selected music might sparkle, it is one of the most deliberately dingy looking films you can ever hope to see on screen. If nothing else, Ryan Samuel’s cinematography makes Rosow’s life look convincingly grim. To his credit, the granite-faced Michael Shannon never betrays a hint of irony as the lowlife gumshoe. He also has some nice screen chemistry Amy Ryan as Miss Charley. Several of the other supporting players are more than a little stiff though, further accentuating the film’s stylistic excesses.

Turning on a dime from highly exaggerated noir to existential contemporary drama, Missing is a film with a lot of ragged edges. However, it handles the 9/11story elements with proper respect. You also have to give due props to any new film exhibiting a jazz aesthetic. An odd blend of hardboiled attitude and apparently genuine human empathy, Missing has its moments for connoisseurs of the film noir genre. Yet, it will likely prove far too stylized and idiosyncratic for general audiences. It opens tomorrow at the Village East.

Billy Strayhorn: Lush Life

Billy Strayhorn: Lush Life
Original Soundtrack
Blue Note Records

When PBS finally gave some primetime air to jazz, they did the music right. Billy Strayhorn: Lush Life, which aired in most markets in February, profiled the man who served as Duke Ellington’s largely unheralded arranging and composing collaborator. The filmmakers understood the importance of Strayhorn’s music to their story, and gave extended screen time to performances of his tunes by some of top names in jazz today. While giving prominence to the music, they did cut off most performances at some point, so the Billy Strayhorn: Lush Life companion soundtrack is a welcome release, making the entire performances available.

Few musicians are as attuned to songwriters as Bill Charlap, so he is perfectly matched to this project. The disk opens with his jaunty solo version of Strayhorn’s little known “Fantastic Rhythm.” He later returns for another solo—a sensitive interpretation of Strayhorn’s classical composition “Valse.” Charlap also has the pleasure of playing a duet with Hank Jones on “Tonk,” originally a four-handed feature for Ellington and Strayhorn.

The personification of elegant swing, Jones is another natural for this endeavor. His solo feature, “Satin Doll,” is tasteful and sophisticated. Jones has developed a rapport with Joe Lovano, playing with him on a number of occasions and on several sessions in recent years. With stellar rhythm section-mates George Mraz and Paul Motian, Jones and Lovano keep that good thing going on tunes like “Johnny Come Lately” and particularly Strayhorn’s lovely, under-recorded “Lotus Blossom.”

The vocal tracks are a bit more of a mixed bag. Certainly one of the highlights is Elvis Costello’s “My Flame Burns Blue” (originally “Blount Count”). Costello, Mr. Diana Krall, has been doing more jazz oriented work, recording with the Metropole Orchestra and frequently performing for Jazz Foundation benefit concerts. The lyrics he wrote to the melody of “Blood Count,” first recorded with the Metropole and heard here with the stellar backing of Lovano and Charlap, well fit the milieu of Strayhorn’s work.

With six features, Diane Reeves has the highest profile in the film and soundtrack. She has a beautifully strong and clear voice, but on “Lush Life” she does not seem to connect with melancholy at the core of the Strayhorn classic. However, on “Something to Live For” she brings a convincingly hopefully sound to what could be a downbeat lament.

Lush Life has been sitting atop the Jazz Week radio play charts for several weeks, and it is easy to understand why. It features a nice blend of the well known Strayhorn and relatively recent discoveries, while the performances range from solid to beautiful.