Coming Attraction: Flight of the Red Balloon

Call it RB2: the Revenge. Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao Hsien has crafted his homage to Albert Lamorisse’s classic short children’s film, The Red Balloon (which was debuted for American audiences on G.E. Theater, with host Ronald Reagan). In truth, it is quite faithful to the gentle spirit of the original, yet Flight of the Red Balloon (trailer here) is somewhat of a departure in many respects.

Superficially, Flight is a simple story. Hou takes us inside a small Parisian family—one that is complicated, but fully functional. Suzanne, an artsy puppeteer played by the film’s only name actor, Juliette Binoche, lives with her son Simon. She hires Song, a Taiwanese film student, as her new child-minder. Though reserved, Song meshes well with their family. As a filmmaker, she is a natural observer, often framing the film’s events for the audience. Most of the family drama happens off-camera, involving Simon’s unseen absentee father, and his half-sister only appearing only in flashback.

Like its inspiration, Flight begins with a boy walking the streets of Paris, finding a red balloon strangely attracted to him. However, after the opening the sequence, the mysterious balloon does not reappear again until roughly midway through the film. It is the shrewdly observed subtleties of Simon’s family that occupy Hou. Those requiring a constant stream of plot twists and turns would probably want to scream during Flight.

Yet in some ways, it is a refreshing film. Although Simon is in many ways more grounded than his dramatic mother, their relationship is a loving one. Likewise, he adores his half-sister Louise. There is no reliance on sibling rivalry or other such clichés as plot devices.

Hou creates some strong visuals, taking advantage of the cinematic potential of Suzanne’s puppet shows, and the enduring beauty of the city of Paris. He is aided by a very evocative classical piano score.

The small cast is excellent, rising to the challenge of Hou’s intimate scrutiny. Binoche conveys Suzanne’s hyper nature, while maintaining both sympathy and credibility with the audience. Young Simon Iteanu as the conveniently named Simon has a remarkably assured screen presence. Likewise, Song Fang as Song brings a sense of intelligence to what could have easily devolved into a stock character.

Flight is a quiet film of discrete charm. Some viewers might respond to it like family, finding it difficult to like, but loving it anyway. It opens April 4th at the IFC Film Center in New York. Those who affectionately remember Lamorisse’s film, and do not suffer from excessive ADD should check it out.

Making Record-Making Records

Making Records: The Scenes Behind the Music
By Phil Ramone with Charles Granata
Hyperion Books

Here is Phil Ramone’s list of producing and engineering credits at Allmusic.com, representing artists from jazz, rock, pop, and Broadway. One can definitely see a book in there. Ramone, who worked with the likes of John Coltrane, Frank Sinatra, Luciano Pavoratti, and Billy Joel, collects a number of anecdotes from his recording career in Making Records, a conversational memoir co-written with Charles Granata.

While Ramone’s greatest commercial success came through his work with mega-pop stars, jazz plays a surprisingly large role in his story. Ramone was actually cutting a demo as a jazz violinist (with charts written for him by the great Ralph Burns) when he was recruited into his first studio gig. He would win his first Grammy (of fourteen) for engineering a jazz album, Getz Gilberto. Throughout his successful production career, Ramone frequently brought in major jazz artists to add a certain élan to his sessions. One thing that comes through clearly in Records is Ramone’s passion for a wide variety of music, certainly including jazz.

Along the way, Ramone produced and witnessed quite a bit of musical history. It was actually Ramone who did the sound for Pres. Kennedy’s birthday gala, which featured Marilyn Monroe’s famous serenade, with Hank Jones accompanying her on piano. Ramone recollects: “It was pretty imposing to be on stage with Marilyn Monroe, Hank Jones, and a nine-foot grand piano!” (p. 206) I’m sure he was really checking out that piano.

Records provides laymen with a basic introduction to craft of producing records, but it is not meant to be a primer for sound engineers. Ramone is more interested in illustrating the process of collaborating with creative talent. His stories suggest there are often times when producers need to smooth egos over. For instance, he was able to diplomatically explain to Billy Joel’s saxophonist, Richie Cannata, why he wanted to bring in bop alto legend Phil Woods for a session, so that the regular band-member would not object. He quotes Cannata explaining:

“All of us (Michael Brecker, David Sanborn, and I) looked up to Phil Woods; he was the Charlie Parker of our era. If Phil (Ramone) had asked Michael Brecker or David Sanborn to play on ‘Just the Way You Are,’ I would have felt hurt. But it was a real honor to have Phil Woods play on our record.” (p. 50)

In recent years, Ramone has made a specialty of songbook duet sessions, including Sinatra’s Duets, Tony Bennett’s Duets, and Ray Charles’ Genius Loves Company. All three figure significantly in Records, with the final Ray Charles sessions making a fitting conclusion. However, Billy Joel and Paul Simon probably have the greatest prominence in Ramone’s book, not surprisingly given their success. Ramone evidently even named his sons after them.

To his credit, Ramone shows little interest in passing off gossip or scandal. However, a little sense of conflict would have given the book greater dramatic urgency. Surely, there is someone out there Ramone would not care to work with again. In Records though, it seems Ramone is able to overcome every pitfall with a little creative engineering. More power to him. In any event, Records is a breezy read, that provides some fresh insights into the artists Ramone worked with, and audiophiles will dig his explanations of his various techniques and improvisations in the studio.

Brown at the Green Mill

Ari Brown Live at the Green Mill
Delmark CD & DVD

Delmark deserves recognition from Chicago’s Chamber of Commerce. In addition to being the Windy City’s most celebrated independent label, in recent months they have brought forth a series of DVDs recorded by some of Chicago’s finest musicians in the city’s leading venues. Releases like Nicole Mitchell at the Velvet Lounge and Kahil El’Zabar’s Ethnic Heritage Ensemble at the Ascension Loft create enticing portraits of Chicago’s musical scene. For a live release from Chicago reedman Ari Brown, Delmark went to the Green Mill, considered the oldest surviving jazz club and once boasting Capone enforcer “Machinegun” Jack McGurn as a co-owner. The resulting Live at the Green Mill effectively showcases Brown and his Chicago-based ensemble, and further buttresses the burgeoning reputation of the local jazz scene.

Like Mitchell, Brown is comfortable in avant-garde settings, but for his live sets at the Mill, stays within a straight ahead, bop-based bag. Brown and company do take ample opportunity to stretch out though, with the seven tunes of the DVD averaging out to over ten minutes. They start with “Richard’s Tune,” an inviting workout, taken up-tempo, but not too briskly. It is an excellent bop showcase for Brown’s tenor and Pharez Whitted on trumpet. Pianist and brother Kirk Brown also displays a deft touch in his solo here, and throughout the sessions.

“One for Skip” follows, with Brown’s mournful introduction. Dedicated to a departed friend, it is elegantly elegiac. Brown has a rougher-hewn sound on tenor, and his ballad treatment here recalls the Hawk through its muscular sensitivity.

The DVD has the advantage over the simultaneously recorded CD with the inclusion of “Waltz of the Prophets.” Filmed over two nights, it appears from wardrobe clues tracks 1-3 came from one date, with the balance coming from the other night. Brown at one time played with McCoy Tyner, and one can hear an affinity in their music on the slightly exotic “Waltz.”

Brown switches to soprano (and changes shirts) for an explicitly titled homage, “Shorter’s Vibes.” Compulsively propelled along by Dr. Cuz’s percussion and Kirk Brown’s rhythmic piano, Brown’s solo is fittingly ecstatic.

Kirk Brown signals another change of pace on “Two Gun V,” augmenting his piano with some funky keyboard work. Not to be outdone, Ari Brown, starts on tenor, moves to soprano, and then proceeds to play both simultaneous, a la Rahsaan Kirk, over a solid groove from the rhythm section.

Brown and his band members are great musicians, who come strong in these consistently crowd pleasing Green Mill performances. They do not seem to tour New York often (at least as far as I have heard), so Live at the Green Mill makes a good case for visiting Chicago. Things definitely seem to be happening there.

4 Months Opening in 21 Days

It is hard to imagine most contemporary political films coming out of Hollywood changing any hearts and minds, or even spurring serious debate on their pet issues. When filmmakers clumsily stack the deck, eschewing nuance, the cinema suffers. 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (trailer here), the Romanian winner of the Cannes Film Festival’s Palme D’Or, is often a very difficult film to watch, but it is far from simplistic propaganda.

Much is prohibited in Ceausescu’s Romania, including abortions as of 1966. However, there was a thriving black market in Romania, ranging from the ubiquitous purveyors of western cigarettes, to back alley abortionists. Written and directed by Cristian Mungiu, 4 Months chronicles the efforts of Otilia, a level headed university student, as she helps Găbiţa, her pregnant roommate seeking an illegal abortion. To say things get ugly would be a fair statement.

Needless to say 1987 Romania was not a pleasant environment. As presented by Mungiu, cinematographer Oleg Mutu, and production designer Mihaela Poenaru, it is a grim, grey naturalistic world, where the very buildings themselves are oppressive. However, Ceausescu’s name is never mentioned, and very little of the police state apparatus is actually seen, aside from a few coppers here and there. We do have the potential punishments for abortion explained in some detail by the man they intend to hire for the job, a dangerous underworld figure simply known as “Mr. Bebe,” portrayed with cold-blooded intensity by Vlad Ivanov.

This could be considered a spoiler paragraph, but the squeamish might want to be warned that there are some graphic scenes during the actually act, and the events leading up to it are equally difficult to watch. 4 Months is both disturbing and honest because it insists on showing the reality of the abortion. That even extends to showing a fetus, which does indeed look like a small baby.

It is hard to watch 4 Months and not conclude that what happens in that seedy hotel room is a crime, or multiple crimes. You can certainly use the film to argue that is a function of abortion’s criminal status in Communist Romania. However, the film chooses to show things which would not lend support to the practice in general.

4 Months is a particularly interesting film because Mungiu never takes the easy way out. Otilia, powerfully played by Anamaria Marinca, is a complex character, but quite sympathetic. Laura Vasiliu’s Găbiţa however, shows a marked propensity for making bad decisions that ultimately tries the patience of Otilia and the audience.

This film is very difficult to get a handle on. While 4 Months is clearly “pro-choice” in American terms, it is not likely to convert its audiences into armies of Margaret Sangers. Its frequent shaky camera work and dim lighting are annoying, yet they combine to effectively create an atmosphere of increasing trepidation. For all its intensity, the film ends a bit abruptly, with at least one loose end (or red herring) still dangling. Marinca and Ivanov give two tour-de-force performances, but the film is still an uncomfortable viewing experience.

As an “issue” movie though, 4 Months is undeniably effective. I’m glad I have never given starred ratings to films in reviews, because I honestly have no idea what to give 4 Months, but I certainly respect it as. It opens January 25th in New York at the IFC Film Center.

Coming Soon: Orthodox Stance

Despite million dollar purses and enormous pay-per-view revenue, boxing does not have the prestige it once carried. NY1’s sports call-in host Tom McDonald is one of boxing’s greatest boosters in the city, frequently inviting local contenders on his show, which is where I first heard of Dmitriy Salita. Now patrons of the upcoming New York Jewish Film Festival, and Cinema Village on the 25th, will have the chance to meet Salita through Jason Hutt’s documentary Orthodox Stance.

Sometimes billing himself as “The Star of David,” Salita has maintained his orthodox faith in the very worldly sport of boxing. Salita’s family immigrated to America from Odessa, Ukraine to avoid anti-Semitism while Salita was still in grade school. In fact, Salita attributes much of his drive to succeed in boxing to the poverty and social awkwardness of his first years in America.

Stance follows Salita through the early years of his career, culminating with an important bout for a stepping stone title belt. Boxing has a checkered reputation, but Salita’s first promoter, Bob Arum of Top Rank, actually comes off well in the film for his accommodations of Salita’s orthodox observances. The jury seems to still be out on his current promoter, Lou DiBella.

Salita certainly has an interesting story. Though his family is Jewish, they were not particularly observant. Salita came to Orthodox Judaism on his own accord, during a period of family crisis. To Stance’s credit, it respects Salita’s religious convictions and does not treat his Orthodox advisors as caricatures. As we see in the film, keeping kosher is no small feat in hotel rooms in Vegas or Puerto Rico.

In many ways Salita is a very refreshing sports personality. In addition to being a man of religious conviction, Salita conveys a sense of patriotism as well. While still relatively fresh on the scene, he has built a solid following and has even secured endorsement opportunities. As a result, Salita often echoes Don King’s “only in America” sentiments, expressing gratitude for the opportunities he found here.

At one point we see a genuinely respectful Salita and his manager Israel Liberow attending a Hanukkah reception hosted by President and Mrs. Bush. His advisor (and sort of trainer-emeritus) Jimmy O’Pharrow expresses sentiments to the effect that regardless of what you think whoever happens to be President, being invited to the White House is a meaningful event. It is that general lack of cynicism that marks both Salita and Stance, making the documentary of interest to viewers who ordinarily have little enthusiasm for boxing.

It is far from a foregone conclusion that Salita is destined to be a major champion. However, he has built a substantial fan-base—much of which Stance shows comes from the Jewish community and his Brooklyn neighborhood. We even see Matisyahu, the soon to be Grammy nominated Hasidic reggae and rap star, performing for Salita before his important title fight.

Salita might be what boxing needs: a likeable potential champion, with deeply held values. He is definitely well represented in Stance. It will screen as part of the upcoming New York Jewish Film Festival, before starting a New York run at Cinema Village on January 25th.

Ragtime Revolution

Vernon and Irene Castle’s Ragtime Revolution
By Eve Golden
University of Kentucky Press

James Reese Europe, the African American WWI military hero and bandleader, was the greatest link between ragtime and jazz. Without Vernon and Irene Castle, it is doubtful his music would have attained the same level of acceptance with white audiences. As Eve Golden makes clear in the new biography Vernon and Irene Castle’s Ragtime Revolution, the Castles functioned as respectable society’s seal of approval, popularizing the formerly scandalous pastime of social dance, which indirectly lead to what became the Jazz Age.

The Castles are best remembered now through the 1939 bio-picture starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Astaire was perfectly cast as Vernon, Rogers less so as Irene. As there is little surviving video footage of the Castles, the RKO picture dominates the collective American memory of the pre-WWI dancing sensations.

In some ways, the Castles, particularly Vernon, were progressive in their thinking. Their relationship with Europe represented a historic precedent: a white couple exhibition dancing to the music of an African American orchestra. Golden explains:

“Vernon was always quick to remind audiences that Europe’s was ‘the best dancing music in the world,’ and Europe was delighted to find such famous and good-natured stars to accompany. Vernon and Europe became fast friends; Europe called Vernon ‘one white absolutely without prejudice.’” (p. 69)

Of the two Castles, it is safe to say Golden shows a pronounced preference for Vernon. While he is consistently portrayed as broadminded and humane, Golden often uses Irene’s own words to suggest petty and churlish aspects of her character. While it might represent a bias, it certainly seems to be a fair representation of their respective personalities, and her use of Irene’s words seems fair and in the proper contexts. Though Mrs. Castle shared her husband’s affection for Europe, Golden quotes statements on jazz which include less than enlightened racial language:

“The dancing of 1922 isn’t beautiful. It has rhythm, yes, but what rhythm! The rhythm of jungle creatures. And what sort of rhythm is that? You know enough of anthropology to answer that yourself, I’m sure.” (p. 225)

Golden paints an interesting picture of the beginnings of contemporary celebrity culture. The Castles were certainly talented, but they may not have been the greatest dancers of the 1910’s. Yet they had the right image and were able to ride an effective publicity campaign until WWI intervened, and the British Vernon enlisted in the Royal Flying Corps.

The press played a critical role in making them celebrities, but it could also be uncharitable. Golden shows ill-concealed contempt for the contemporary press’s innuendos regarding the Frasier Crane-like Vernon Castle’s manliness. Golden quotes an example from an Ohio paper, which seemed to be a frequent offender:

“‘Gosh, we bet the British army is growing impatient,’ wrote the Toledo Blade, waiting for Vernon to ‘come a-flying over the trenches in his trusty aeroplane and scare the Germans half out of their wits (which it might be added, is exactly what he would shortly do).” (p. 148)

Again, Golden has a legitimate point. Vernon Castle would fly many missions, shoot down two German planes, and was killed in the line of duty. Perhaps the Toledo Blade could have shown a little respect.

Despite the distant remove from its subjects, Revolution is a quick, enjoyable read. Golden is a strong writer, turning some nice phrases, and backing up her representations with historical source material. Since I believe James Reese Europe is an under-appreciated American hero, I would have preferred even more material on his relationship with the Castles, but that’s my bias. As written, Revolution is an entertaining biography that makes a strong case on behalf of Vernon Castle’s stature as an under-appreciated military hero, as well.

Best CDs of 2007 and Beyond

Judging the best CDs of 2007 is far more difficult than the best films. Anytime talented musicians come together there will at least be some worthy music to hear, but a lot of Hollywood talent can come together to produce an unwatchable movie. Just about every CD reviewed here is great release, because I prefer to be evangelical when it comes to posting on music. Again, this is a collective top 10, not ranked from 1 to 10, but in alpha order.

A Tale of God’s Will, Terence Blanchard’s recasting of his score from the Spike Lee miniseries packed an emotional punch, yet still seemed to hit some hopeful notes. "Ashé" may well be the most beautiful single track of the year.

Anat Fort’s ECM debut A Long Story was sometime coming, but worth the wait for listeners. I have heard her at the Rubin Museum and Cornelia Street since reviewing Story and remain quite impressed.

Cool is cool, and Eddie Gale still has it, lending some to Mushroom on Joint Happening, claiming the mantle of the electric Miles of modern times.

One big factor in choosing the best CDs of the year is how often they were revisited after the review went up. Bruce Hornsby’s jazz debut, Camp Meeting with Jack DeJohnette and Christian McBride, had a lot of staying power in the CD player. Maybe this is a surprise to some, but it’s the real deal.

It would be embarrassing to compile this list without Charles Mingus at Cornell, 1964. For such a hitherto unknown recording come to light, in such good fidelity, was a surprise that had Mingus scholars joyfully rewriting discographies.

Paul Nash and friends knew Jazz Cycles would most likely be his final project. Nash’s compositions are both intriguing and pleasing, and the circumstances of the recording definitely inspired the musicians, making this release worth seeking out.

Again, Miho Nobuzane’s Happy Sounds has been frequently revisited after the initial posting. She plays with tremendous verve and joy, making audio coffee, perfect to listen to on the ipod as you pound through the streets of New York.

Charles Tolliver’s big band session, on a major label co-released with Mosaic Records, was a welcome development to see and hear. Hopefully With Love's Grammy nomination will portend more such Tolliver big band releases.

For some reason, a lot of critics did not share my enthusiasm for Gianluigi Trovesi’s Vaghissimo Ritratto. They were wrong. Period. This is an elegant gem.

Sadly, Brown Street will presumably be Joe Zawinul’s final release, but what a session. Zawinul and the WDR Big Band revisited Weather Report, staying true to the spirit of the original recordings, but swinging them like mad.

There were a number of great releases that I could not shoehorn into the top 10, some on the technicality that they were reviewed in late 2006. We can look forward to more great music from great artists in 2008 as well.

Eri Yamamoto will soon be recording a new CD that I am eagerly anticipating. She is a talented and prolific composer, so I can’t wait to hear what she chooses for the recording. I believe Steve Wiest will be recording something new as well, which I will be looking forward to. Grammy voters have nine days to get their ballots in, so remember he is nominated for Best Instrumental Arrangement for “Besame Mucho,” performed by the late, great Maynard Ferguson.

For recordings with definite release dates, Nik Bärtsch's follow-up to Stoa and a new Enrico Rava disk from ECM portend good things for early ‘08.

Happy New Year. Here’s to great sounds in 2008.

Best Films of 2007 and Beyond

Year-end best of lists are tradition, perhaps Hamlet would say best honored in the breach than the observance. They do afford an opportunity to revisit some great work from the closing year, though.

There were some great films this year (I have the luxury of choosing what to review, so I did not have to endure dogs). If you count The Lives of Others as a 2007 film (the year it was released and reviewed here) it would rate as the best of the year. However, it was Germany’s 2006 Academy Award selection for best foreign language film, taking home the little golden statuette, and made many of last year’s 10 best lists.

Kite Runner should be making more top 10 lists this year, but critical reaction has been unfairly mixed. Perhaps some reviewers were uncomfortable with its brutally frank depiction of the Islamist Taliban regime. Persepolis offers a similar critique of post-Revolutionary Iran, through its stylized animated prism.

Allegro received a very limited distribution (I caught up with it on DVD). It is a demanding narrative, not for the multiplexes, but it will remain with you long after screening it. Sweeney Todd also deserves a quick capsule review. This might well be the role Johnny Depp was meant to play, and is easily his most successful collaboration with Tim Burton. It is an impressive production, with perhaps the weakest link being—heresy—the Sondheim score, which was well out of Burton’s hands. Yes, it is bloody. So, what? It’s Sweeney Todd. Didn’t you know what’s in those meat pies? (Hint: it’s the same thing as Soylent Green.)

Among documentaries, Singing Revolution was honestly moving. Who would not fall for a film about music triumphing over Communism? The Rape of Europa documented another inspiring story—that of the heroic Monument Men, the American officers assigned to protect and recover Europe’s artistic legacy. Note By Note was also surprisingly satisfying, chronicling the making of a Steinway concert grand piano, with insight from many great jazz and classical musicians. Terror’s Advocate may have the single most informative doc of the year, and Manda Bala was just a mind-blower.

Added together, that makes a collective top 10, not ranked in any order. Looking forward to 2008, Andrzej Wajda’s Katyn stands head and shoulders above anything else on the horizon. Wajda is one of the few surviving directors of the stature of a Tarkovsky or even a Truffaut. That he is still directing at or near the peak of his powers is incredible. Katyn is Poland’s official selection for the Academy Awards Best Foreign Language film, so let us hope for decent distribution.

Strike

Strike (Strajk)
Directed by Volker Schlöndorff
MPI (in Polish with English subtitles)

“Strike” is not such a happy word in Hollywood right now, but it still has heroic connotations in Poland. Perhaps the great irony of labor cinema is that one of the more effective strike movies involves workers marching on the Communist Party Committee, rather than “greedy” capitalists. Directed by the German Volker Schlöndorff, Strike (now on DVD, trailer here) dramatizes the early events of the Polish Solidarity union through the eyes of Agnieszka Walczak, a character largely modeled on early Solidarity hero Anna Walentynowicz.

Agnieszka has a hard life. She is a born worker and a devout Catholic, but not necessarily anti-Communist. However, she gradually loses faith in the party as she witnesses its corruption at the Gdansk shipyard. First her activism is relatively circumspect, motivated by very concrete concerns, like pensions for the widows of workers killed through party negligence. A single parent, and borderline illiterate, she fears for her son’s future when she is diagnosed with cancer. However, it is her recent husband, mechanic and jazz musician Kazimierz Walczak, who dies an untimely death, while “Holy” Agnieszka makes a miraculous recovery.

Schlöndorff does a nice job integrating the fictionalized Agnieszka into the very real events of Solidarity, most importantly the violently quashed strike of 1970 and the breakthrough strike of 1980, which led to the recognition of free trade unions. German actress Katharina Thalbach plays Agnieszka, with her Polish dialogue dubbed (essentially the reverse casting of the Polish Krystyna Stypulkowska in the East German Trace of Stones), but still delivers an amazing performance. There is pain in her Agnieszka, but also defiance, as when she boards a tram, beaten and bloody, after her release from the militia’s interrogation, challenging the confused stares of passengers.

Strike’s depiction of Lech Walesa is a bit touchier. The actual Walentynowicz has made no secret of her differences with Walesa after the fall of the regime. Evidently, she has criticized the film for not being sufficiently anti-Walesa. Yet the film certainly sides with her (or at least her surrogate), suggesting Walesa was at times shortsighted and personally ambitious. Hardly a dead-ringer for Walesa, Andrzej Chyra’s role is not any easier given Strike’s point of view, but he does humanize his celebrated subject quite well.

It is no secret that Walesa has had many pubic feuds since his presidency. Polish democracy is messy, just like any other, particularly the American version. Yet a democracy it most certainly is, and not about to change, which is why Agnieszka’s final voice-over rings somewhat hollow. However, Strike is quite adept at capturing historical events of thirty years past. When the workers do march on the Party Committee in 1970 it is stirring stuff, and when the Solidarity banner is first unfurled it is an emotional moment (but not overplayed).

Powerfully underpinning the drama is a score by Jean Michel Jarre, which brilliantly blends symphonic themes with industrial sounds and the jazz of the Andrzej Trzaszkowski Sextet. In fact, Strike will be of particular interest to jazz listeners due to the score and through the character of Kazimierz, whose trumpet unexpectedly plays a significant role in the story.

Strike filters its history through its biases, but does so in earnest, and with good faith. Though hardly a love-letter to Walesa, he is never seen as the villain. Those judgments are reserved for those who served and profited from a corrupt Communist system. Strike is a remarkably well crafted film, conveying the oppressive drabness of the now hallowed Gdansk shipyard and creating some riveting (and at times horrifying) scenes. It is a valuable contribution to cinema of the Communist experience.

Black Unstoppable

Black Unstoppable: Live at the Velvet Lounge
By Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth Ensemble
Delmark DVD

For whatever reasons, jazz flutists, or flautists, have crossed over to wider popularity at a greater rate than other instrumentalists, as witnessed by the popularity attained by Herbie Mann, Hubert Laws, Paul Horn, Bud Shank, and Charles Lloyd in the 1960’s and 1970’s. If the decade is due for a new breakout flautist, Nicole Mitchell looks like a promising candidate, as documented live in concert at Fred Anderson’s Velvet Lounge on the new DVD Black Unstoppable.

In some ways Mitchell has greater affinity with more adventurous jazz flutists, like Eric Dolphy, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, and her onetime teacher James Newton. Yet her music has soulful and spiritual qualities that should enjoy a wider audience. In truth, Mitchell’s music can be heard in the funky-spiritual avant-garde bag that produced Pharaoh Sanders and Leon Thomas’s surprise hit, “The Creator Has a Master Plan.”

The title of the first tune, “The Creator Has Other Plans for Me,” even echoes the Sanders classic. It functions as a nice introduction to the Black Earth Ensemble, with a short but evocative cello preface from Tomeka Reid, and featuring swinging solos from Mitchell on flute, David Young on flugelhorn, and Marcus Evans on drums. It also gives viewers a tour of some of the Velvet Lounge memorabilia during Evans’ solo.

The stylistic similarities to the funkier Pharaoh are most pronounced on the vocal tracks featuring Ugochi Nwaogwugwu. “Life Wants You to Love” is something of a calypso, showcasing the tenor of David Boykin and the leader’s flute. “Love Has No Boundaries” is a soulful duet between Nwaogwugwu and trumpeter Young, who also solos impressively with the cup mute. Guitarist Jeff Parker gets to have his say as well on a very groovy track.

The third vocal, the concluding “Thanking the Universe,” has the same spiritual groove. Dedicated by Mitchell to Boykin, her “soul mate,” it appropriately features a blistering tenor solo. Despite the free excursions, most of Unstoppable, particularly the vocal tracks are accessible to the point of being downright crowd pleasing. Ironically, the freest, most challenging composition is probably the title track.

It is unfortunate that Oprah Winfrey seems to hate jazz, because Mitchell would seem to be a perfect fit for her audience, as a strong instrumentalist and composer, whose music offers a message of universal love and spiritual empowerment. She is also a prodigious bandleader, impressive particularly since women in jazz still face challenges, even today. She is even based in Chicago and now recording for the venerable Chicago independent label Delmark.

Regardless of the avant-garde aspects of Mitchell’s work, there is no reason why her music could not reach a wide popular audience. She swings hard and she her words speak to concerns of the soul, but she is certainly not middle-brow, like say Chris Botti, whom Chicago’s famous host seems to prefer. Too bad for those loyal viewers. Mitchell is an exciting talent, well worth checking out in Unstoppable.

Cross the Water Blues

Cross the Water Blues: African America Music in Europe
Edited by Neil A. Wynn
University of Mississippi Press

From the late Nineteenth Century European tours of the Fisk Jubilee Singers to the 1960’s British Blues Revival tours, African American musicians have often found receptive audiences across the Atlantic. In response to the centennial celebration of W.C. Handy’s first blues publication, particularly Mike Figgis’s examination of the British Blues tradition for Martin Scorsese’s PBS special, an academic conference examining the phenomenon of African American music in Europe was organized by the University of Gloucestershire and the European Blues Association. Many of the resulting papers have now been revised, collected, and published in Cross the Water Blues.

As is to be expected in anthologies, not every contribution offers the same level of insight. However, there are several valuable papers which challenge the notion of an entirely enlightened European embrace of the music. Both Iris Schmeisser writing on Josephine Baker in France and Catherine Parsonage discussing jazz in England identify a similar dichotomy. The French and English were attracted to this music both as an expression of urban modernism and to satisfy an exotic fetish for the music’s perceived primitive African roots. Parsonage writes: “Jazz encapsulates musically the metaphor of the ‘urban jungle,’ as its modernity was expressed through its perceived ‘primitive’ rhythmic qualities.” (p. 92)

One of the more valuable pieces comes from Rainer E. Lotz, whose “Black Music Prior to the First World War,” performs some impressive musical archeology, tracking down details on now obscure musicians who were able to carve out impressive careers on the Continent. Citing many archaic cylinder recordings, Lotz concludes: “African American musicians were among the pioneers of recorded music not only in the United States, but also in Europe.” (p. 81)

Probably the weakest selection was Sean Creighton’s hero-worshipping love letter to Paul Robeson. Glossing Robeson’s loyalty to a Stalinist Soviet Union, Creighton is frankly deceptive when he describes Robeson’s ideology as: “a non-violent crusade for freedom.” (p. 139) As the Hoover Institution's Arnold Beichman catalogues in the Washington Times (article reprinted within comment 47), Robeson sided with the Soviet invaders over the Hungarian people in 1956, defended the Hitler-Stalin Pact, and endorsed the show trials of the Great Terror. Regardless of what you think of Robeson’s ideology, non-violent hardly seems an apt description.

Excepting Creighton’s dubious contribution, Cross the Water is a largely informative volume. As well-mined as the British blues-rock movement might be, Rupert Till finds fresh insight, particularly in his examination of the blues roots of (and litigation against) Led Zeppelin. Many contributors, like Lotz display a laudable enthusiasm for their subjects, while remaining instructive in their papers. Although it is all too easy to believe some of the collected pieces began life at an academic conference, there is much here for music scholars to absorb and debate.

Merry Christmas, Good King Wenceslas

The statue of King Wenceslas, the patron saint of the Czech people, is one of the dominant landmarks of Prague. Legend has it that at the Czechs’ greatest hour of need, the statue will come to life and lead his people to salvation. Other versions have St. Wenceslas rousing the slumbering Knights of Blanik entombed beneath Blanik Mountain under similar circumstances. However, many only know King Wenceslas as the subject of the Christmas carol, one of the few sacred-themed carols which do not mention the birth of Christ.

King Wenceslas only ruled then Bohemia for five years. As the carol suggests, he was known for his charity to the poor and to children. Also known to be hard on the nobility, his reign was marked by comfort for the afflicted, and affliction for the comforted. On his ascent to the throne, King Wenceslas ended his mother’s persecution of Christianity, becoming a staunch Defender of the Faith. He even considered abdication to pursue a life of the cloth. Ultimately, he was martyred by his brother, after ruling only five years.

The twentieth century was difficult for Czechs, yet King Wenceslas did not return during the German occupation or the Soviet invasion of 1968. However, some do not know Václav is the common Czech and Slovak derivative of Wenceslas, and one Václav definitely came to the fore.

The analogy between Václav Havel and King Wenceslas is certainly flawed. Though harassed and imprisoned, Havel happily was not permanently martyred. From 1977 to 1989 Havel regularly saw the inside of prison cells. Havel is the playwright and jazz fan who rallied to the cause of the persecuted rock band The Plastic People of the Universe. He became the natural leader of the Velvet Revolution, culminating in his election to the Presidency, heading the first free government since the Communist coup of 1948 from Prague Castle, where King Wenceslas ruled over 1,000 years earlier.

Havel neither sought power for himself, or to cling to it once he attained it. He is now content in his role as preeminent world citizen. In recent years he has taken the lead supporting the emerging democracy movement in Cuba, and advocating vigilance against. Fortunately, he is not a saint, but he is a hero.

If you are caroling this Christmas, give St. Wenceslas his due. Let us give thanks for his example and those of the great heroes of our time, like Václav Havel, Lech Walesa, and those risked their lives with them. Merry Christmas to all my Czech friends, and to all semi-regular readers of J.B. Spins, wherever you are.

Inhospitable District

I tend to post favorable reviews because there does not seem to be much point in telling people not to buy CDs they have never heard of, or not to go to films that might not even play in their cities. However, since Aron Gauder’s animated Hungarian Hip Hop film The District has generated some strong notices and its run at the Two Boots Pioneer overlaps with the opening of the far superior Persepolis, it seems appropriate to quickly review the one in light of the other.

Stylistically, The District is quite remarkable. Its breakneck animation is consistently inventive. It’s the substance that is the problem. There is a clever plot device involving Romany ancestors and oil reserves under the eponymous neighborhood of Hungary. However, everything that follows is quite predictable. Old rival become fast friends until the reserves run out. The dark cabal of Bush, Blair, and company become threatened by Hungary’s new oil wealth (the audience’s obviously forced Pavlovian laughter at the Bush jokes were particularly embarrassing). Even the film’s punch line involving the object of our protagonist’s affections has been seen before.

By contrast, even if one did not know the events of Persepolis were largely based on a true story, their dramatic importance would still resonate. Persepolis is about family at its core, featuring well drawn (literally and figuratively) characters. The District by contrast, is wholly inhabited by stock figures. Persepolis illustrates how families continue to love, even when the world around them has gone mad. The District presents an unflaggingly cynical world, in which sex is an impersonal act, and humanity has little place.

Billed as a Hungarian Hip Hop film, The District actually lacks any real sense of place, again in contrast to the post-Revolutionary Iran of Persepolis. The Hungarian Hip Hop is there, but it is not particularly memorable. Tremendous talent went into The District. The filmmakers should have gone back to the word processor instead of the drawing board, as the animation was not the problem. Indeed, one hopes Gauder and company will keep making films, as they show some real talent. They need a real story to work with though—hopefully one that does not revel in such unrepentant cynicism. The District plays at the Two Boots Pioneer through Christmas Day, which is when Persepolis opens. Adults looking for smart animation should hold out until the latter opens.

Memo to Grammy Voters

The deadline for Grammy voting is January 9th, so presumably many Recording Academy members will be curling up in front of the fire with their ballots over the holiday. For those who have not given the jazz related categories much thought (if that’s even possible), here is some completely free blogospheric advice, presented in ballot order. (You can find the complete nominations for the jazz division here and the composing/arranging division here.)

The Best Contemporary Jazz Album usually seems like an odd catchall, with widely divergent nominees thrown together. I will post predictions closer to the telecast, but I expect Herbie Hancock’s Joni Letters has this sewn up. For those not sold on Hancock, I would recommend checking out Will Bernard. I’m not particularly well versed in these artists, but I like his funk and free improv approach.

Best Jazz Vocal Album is a strong field. Kurt Elling is also a deserving choice, but I would go with Freddy Cole. I actually met him briefly this year under strange circumstances, and he seemed legitimately nice. Those who do not live in The City might be interested in this commercial he shot for NY1, Time Warner’s New York news channel, on the Staten Island Ferry. It’s a respectful presentation of his vocal artistry and hopefully could even increase his fan base.

Even though my favorite track from Terence Blanchard’s A Tale of God’s Will was “Ashé,” “Levees” from the same release would probably be my choice for Jazz Instrumental solo. Of course, it would be hard to vote against Hank Jones in any category. However, you can vote for his live set with Joe Lovano, Kids: Live at Dizzy’s, for Best Jazz Instrumental Album.

Blanchard’s A Tale of God’s Will is a simply beautiful session that packs a real emotional punch. It would get my vote for Best Large Jazz Ensemble Recording. I was also happy to see Charles Tolliver’s With Love nominated. Tolliver should have been recorded far more than he has been, as this session proves.

I have blogged on Steve Wiest before. I like the man and his music, so it should not come as a surprise that I recommend him for the Best Instrumental Arrangement Category for “Besame Mucho.” Wiest enjoyed a long stint in the great Maynard Ferguson’s band, and his nominated chart has added significance for its inclusion on the trumpeter’s final CD, One and Only.

Again, these are my favorites, not my predictions. Unfortunately the two are not necessarily the same. If you are a Grammy voter, and do not mind a little internet jazz punditry, than I definitely recommend you go to the websites and myspace pages of these artists and check out their nominated work.

Happy Holidays from Free China

Traditional Chinese dance, ballet from Swan Lake, an interpretive dance of Falun Gong triumphing over Communist thugs, and Santa—is there anything else you could ask for in a holiday show? NTDTV’s Holiday Wonders show opened at the Beacon Theatre last night (press event covered here), and basically everything but the kitchen sink is thrown in, including a very definite point of view.

The prime motivation behind the new show, Holiday Wonders, and the established Chinese New Year Splendor, is to celebrate and promote the traditional culture of China. This is not without political ramifications, as the Gang of Four did its best to obliterate its artistic and cultural heritage during the Cultural Revolution, and ancient Chinese cultural traditions remain out of step with the priorities of the current regime’s corporate communism. The shows are designed to present positive images of China, distinct from the government’s austere propaganda. And yes, there is the Falun Gong issue too.

While it might be more of a “Happy Holidays” than a “Merry Christmas” kind of holiday show overall, there was a surprising amount of Christmas music with the related trappings. As for the show itself, it truly is a multicultural event, showing respect for both Eastern and Western musical expression. In a departure from the New Year show, there was a conscious effort to incorporate the Western elements, hence the Pas de deux from Swan Lake. Though Anna Liceica and Nilas Martins were very good in the scene from Tchaikovsky, it was the Chinese choreography that remains the real highlight.

“Water Sleeves” for instance, uses its costuming and choreography together to create a water lily effect, with a vibe reminiscent of the “Sugar Plum Fairy” dance. The large production sequences also usually celebrate regional cultural diversity, again in contradiction to the government’s statist policy. “Xinjiang Spirit” derives from the Northwest “Chinese Turkestan” region and “Good Fortune” celebrates the Chinese mountain community of ethnic Koreans in the Changbaishan range. Both are upbeat, spirited numbers, featuring the attractive troupe of dancers.

The entertainment value of flashy percussion is well established, and there are two great examples here. “Drummers of the Tang Court” combines martial precision and percussive power. The finale, “Resounding Drums,” brings back the dance troupe, incorporating shoulder-slung drums with choreography.

Of the Western Associated fare, the Hester Quartet were the standouts, performing a lovely “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” and a cleverly arranged “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” The Empire Brass also did a crowd pleasing set of Christmas Carols and popular classical standards. The only significant weakness of the show is the between set banter from the co-hosts, and their comedy bits with Santa Clause. I wanted to rewrite it for them right there in the theater.

However, the one feature that really makes you think “huh, wow,” has to be: “The Power of Awareness.” If you have a problem with Falun Gong, you will not dig this number. We see thuggish communist authorities attack practitioners, including a mother and her daughter, for unfurling a banner with their aphorism: “Truthfulness, Compassion, and Tolerance.” Fortunately, the goons are overcome by other Falun Gong followers in the park. While it did not seem to particularly represent traditional culture, it is entertaining to see the Commies get it for a change. It’s certainly not something you see every day.

Holiday Wonders and the New Year show are affiliated with media outlets sympathetic to Falun Gong and critical of the Communist regime, which colors some critical reaction to the shows. Indeed, Falun Gong cropped up in the lyrics of some of the original songs (translated on-screen behind the soloist) and it obviously shaped the conception of “Awareness.” For the record, nobody was pushing tracts in the lobby.

It is new era, when people can come together to form media outlets to challenge totalitarian governments. Holiday Wonders seems to be an entertainment arm of that overall endeavor. The bottom line is: Wonders is an entertaining show that moves along at a fast pace. It may have its idiosyncrasies, but it is a different and interesting way to spend an evening. It runs through December 26th at the Beacon and the New Year show opens January 30th at Radio City Music Hall.

Opening Soon: Imaginary Witness

Glamour, escapism, and sentimentality—all are strong suits for Hollywood, but completely uncalled for when addressing the Holocaust on film. Perhaps it is not surprising then that the American film industry was long reluctant to dramatize the Holocaust, as director Daniel Anker illustrates in the documentary, Imaginary Witness: Hollywood and the Holocaust.

Originally broadcast on AMC and soon to screen at art houses and on campuses, Witness is more than a Chuck Workman-like compilation of film clips. Frankly, with its scope limited to American produced dramatic features (excluding documentaries) the list of potential source films is relatively small. Within that list, many films, particularly those produced during or shortly after the war, were clearly uncomfortable in their handling of the historical issues involved. Yet as filmmakers became bolder in their depictions, some like Elie Weisel, would challenge the very morality of any attempts to dramatize the Holocaust.

Witness does document some fascinating episodes in Hollywood history. According to the film, prior to WWII, Germany accounted for ten percent of the foreign market, explaining why few films were produced criticizing the rise of National Socialism. One such film was MGM’s Mortal Storm starring James Stewart, which led to the prohibition of all MGM films in Germany. That Warner (which controls the classic MGM library through Turner entertainment) has yet to make this historic film available on DVD is quite disappointing.

A particular revelation for most viewers of Witness will be the remarkable reception in Germany for the NBC miniseries Holocaust (which again ought to be available on DVD). Evidently, it was eye opening for younger Germans who did not live through the war and led to a legitimate national dialogue. However, Weisel was referring to this miniseries as “morally objectionable and indecent” when he criticized fictionalizations of the Holocaust.

It is ethical questions like this that Witness is particularly interested in exploring. However, some interview subjects offer more to the film than others. Branko Lustig’s interview segments may well be the strongest aspects of the film. Lustig was the producer of Schindler’s List and was involved with the productions of Sophie’s Choice and War and Rembrance. He is also a Holocaust survivor. To say he brings insight to the subject would be an understatement. When he speaks of being the last survivor working in Hollywood who can advise on questions of authenticity, it is a heavy moment. Audiences could probably watch an entire film of his interview.

Also contributing much through their participation are Steven Spielberg, and The Pawnbroker’s Sidney Lumet and Rod Steiger. Although Neil Gabler is an acknowledged authority on the original Hollywood moguls, he is such a glib TV talking head, that he lacks gravitas of other participants and seems to have a disproportionate amount of screen time.

Like the film oeuvre it surveys, Witness is uneven, but it does have some powerful moments, most notably Lustig’s contributions. My greatest complaint might seem trivial—its actual title. People of good conscience can certainly understand the meaning of Imaginary Witness, but there are a frightening number of unhinged deniers in the world today. Putting the words “imaginary” and “Holocaust” together in the same title seems to be handing them a rhetorical device, which is obviously the furthest from the filmmaker’s intentions. That such people are out there reinforces the need for Witness and the films it analyzes. It opens in New York at the IFC Film Center on Christmas Day.

Trace of Stones

Trace of Stones
Directed by Frank Beyer
First Run Features

“The plan is a sacred cow,” says a party bureaucrat. Yet everyone knows the plan is hopelessly flawed, and questioning it can lead to a reprimand. Welcome to East Germany, circa 1966, as reflected in a scene from Frank Beyer’s industrial drama, Trace of Stones. If that sounds like risky material for East German cinema, one would be correct. Despite being produced as a prestige picture by the GDR studio DEFA, and heavily promoted as such, the East German authorities stepped in at the last minute, disrupting its premiere and then banning it outright. After twenty five years, it was finally given a proper premiere at the Berlin Film Festival, and is now available on DVD in America.

Trace is told in flashback through testimony at a party inquiry into Werner Horrath, the idealistic party secretary appointed to Schkona, a fictional behemoth of socialist engineering. The charges against him include: “immoral behavior as well as personal career-mindedness and political and ideological failures.”

At first, Horrath makes waves by openly questioning the flawed site plans and challenging the authority of Hannes Balla, the hard-living, rule-breaking boss of the Balla gang, the most productive work group on the site. (That the Ballas bear a certain resemblance to western cowboys probably did not help the film with GDR ideological authorities.) At first viewers root for the straight-laced Horrath as he stands up to the bullying of the anarchic Balla, but their relationship becomes much more nuanced as the film progresses and more of Balla’s character is revealed.

The married Horrath and the rebellious Balla both fall in love with a party engineer, Kati Klee, played by Polish actress Krystyna Stypulkowska (and dubbed by German actress Jutta Hoffman). As the love triangle unfolds, the Communist party apparatus looks increasingly grim, with the pregnant but unwed Klee facing a party star chamber seeking the identity of the father.

Ostensibly, Trace does not assail Communism—not directly, at least. Horrath and Klee remain loyal to the party throughout their travails. Balla however, is an antinomian wild card. While he and his entire crew are union members, only one belongs to the party. Though he might be reckless, he does live by a certain moral code, which appears to preclude party membership. He seems to even say this directly, in an off-hand comment to Horrath’s wife late in the film.

Perhaps the greatest surprise of Trace is the humor. As Balla, Manfred Krug at times shows a deft touch for comedic situations. He also convincingly conveys both the sensitive and loutish facets of Balla’s complex personality. Indeed, Trace is very well acted by all involved, including Eberhard Eshe as the well-meaning but timid Horrath.

It might not be Miracle on 34th Street, but as a good portion of Trace occurs during the Christmas season, this might be an appropriate time to screen it. It will definitely stand out. Though it is starkly naturalistic and ends a bit abruptly, it is a very satisfying film for its performances and honesty.

Eventually, Beyer would be allowed to direct again, bringing East Germany its only Academy Award nomination for Jakob, the Liar. He would later deal directly with the legacy of Communism in work for German television until his death in 2006. Based on the quality of Trace, one hopes his post-Communist work will also be released in America eventually

PoPsie N.Y.

PoPsie N.Y. Popular Music Through the Camera Lens of William “Popsie” Randolph
By Michael Randolph, Forward by Quincy Jones
Hal Leonard

Many of the photographers who have documented jazz, like Francis Wolff, Roy DeCarava, and William Claxton, are now as celebrated as the musicians whose images they captured. Generally overlooked in this pantheon of jazz photography has been William “PoPsie” Randolph, probably because his images were almost entirely created as work-for-hire in the Runyonesque Broadway P.R. industry. Now a portion of his enormous body of work has been collected by his son in the illustrated volume, PoPsie N.Y., titled after his father’s signature logo.

One gets a sense that Randolph’s world was not unlike that seen in The Sweet Smell of Success, except it seems clear the photographer was much more popular with his clients than Tony Curtis’s press agent, Sidney Falco. As son Randolph explains, PoPsie [two capital P’s] Randolph had worked as a band boy/road manager for the Woody Herman and Benny Goodman orchestras, and it was actually BG himself who essentially staked Randolph’s photography business. Bandleader and producer Quincy Jones writes in his introduction: “I feel fortunate to have had a part of my life chronicled by a great photographer like PoPsie.” (P. 4)

As one might therefore expect, there are several photos of Goodman and Jones collected in PoPsie. While, all forms of popular music from the fifties through the seventies are included, jazz is particularly well represented. Some photos are particularly tantalizing from a musical point of view, like the shot of Charlie Parker and Lionel Hampton jamming together at the Band Box. Numerous other jazz artists are also pictured here, including: Coleman Hawkins, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Mac Roach, and Dizzy Gillespie.

Randolph was often called upon to shoot publicity photos on behalf of artists and their labels, producing headshots in the studio, like the one of Peggy Lee on the cover of PoPsie (and also on the cover of a recent biography of the singer). He also shot recording sessions, club dates, and press conferences. Perhaps the best photos in the book are the casual shots, like that of Nat King Cole at home with his daughters. Randolph’s style is marked by a feeling of warmth and glamour. Unlike the dramatic shadows of Francis Wolff, his subjects are usually bathed in light, in photos well suited for use in press kits.

PoPsie is a charming collection, that recreates an era gone by, in which recording artists were expected to be elegant and sophisticated, rather than cheap and scandalous. Those days are sadly over. Randolph’s studio was just steps away from the Brill Building. No longer the songwriting Mecca, the Brill still houses some somewhat show-business related tenants, including a screening room, and Colony Records, the only remaining link to Randolph’s days. Last time I was there for a screening I stopped at Colony and saw PoPsie prominently displayed. Nice to know they remember.

Kite Runner, the Film

Kite flying is practically a contact sport in Afghanistan. It is also surprisingly cinematic in Marc Forster’s adaptation of Khaled Hosseini’s bestselling The Kite Runner. As has been said before, Kite Runner (trailer here) is a work of fiction, but it deserves credit for its unflinchingly realistic portrayal of life under the Taliban regime. It is also a very personal story about the bonds of friendship and family.

As the film opens, debut novelist Amir Agha’s guilt-ridden past intrudes on his life of domestic tranquility in America. Summoned to Pakistan by a close friend of the family, we see his early years in Afghanistan unfold through flashbacks. The Kite Runner is actually Hassan, the son of the loyal family retainer. A close friend of Amir, Hassan has a particular talent for chasing down the trophy kites “cut” by the young protagonist during the dog fight contests that animated the Kabul skies before the Taliban’s prohibition.

In Kite, the past has an ever tangible effect on the present, as one moment of shame undoes the boys’ friendship and colors every succeeding event of Amir’s life. The young actors in these roles are far superior to most child stars seen in Hollywood films. Watching them, there is no doubt of the gravity of the situations playing out on screen. As young Amir, Zekira Ebrahimi probably has as much screen time as Khalid Abdalla gets as adult Amir, which might make it difficult to delineate lead and supporting performances for purposes of award nominations.

As Amir’s father (Baba), Iranian actor Homayoun Ershadi gives a particularly award worthy performance. The character of Baba provides the film’s moral center. In a formative scene, he explains to Amir that theft is the greatest sin of all, because it is the basis of all other crimes—theft of one’s life, theft of a loved one’s life, theft of the truth, and so on. He has no use for the mullahs or the Communists, complaining before the invasion: ““the Mullahs want to control our souls, while the Communists deny we have any.”

Shaun Toub also gives an effecting performance in the role of the family friend Rahim Khan, which is likely to be underappreciated for its understated dignity. We see Khan recognize and encourage young Amir’s literary talents, and the lasting impact of his kind attention. It is the sort of noble character that we rarely see in contemporary movies.

Kite is scrupulously honest in its portrayal of the brutality and corruption of both the Soviets and the Taliban. We see a burkha clad woman stoned to death in a Taliban public assembly. It is a disturbing, but necessary scene, as is the now infamous assault scene, which led to the concerns for the young actors’ safety. It is horrifying, but not exploitative. Director Forster handled these challenges well, crafting a very impressive film.

At its core, Kite is a story about family, but it does not happen in a vacuum. Its frighteningly realistic backdrop of a land scarred by Communist occupiers and Islamic Fascism heightens the drama and gives the film additional relevance. It opens today on 35 screens, including the Sunshine in New York.

(Note: For New Yorkers, as good as Kite Runner is, remember to also check out Singing Revolution this weekend while you can.)

Genius at Montreux

Ray Charles Live at Montruex 1997
Eagle Eye Media

Ray Charles left the world many lasting images. He laid down the law for the Blues Brothers, worked with the Muppets, sang over the opening credits of In the Heat of the Night, hosted SNL, and was portrayed on film by Jamie Foxx. This is the genius of soul we’re talking about though, so more recordings and footage are always welcome, like the breezy concert performance now released as Live at Montreux 1997.

Charles was a total pro, but was not receptive to suggestions for deviations from his typical set, probably because that would imply other shows were less than special by comparison. So that night at the Montreux Jazz Festival, Charles hit with his band, like usual.

He opens up with a brassy, brisk workout in “I’ll Be Home (Sadie’s Tune),” but unfortunately the vocals are somewhat down in the audio mix. All is good though for the second tune, the bluesy “Busted.” The next song, “Georgia” needs no explanation, but it seems a little early in the set for such a crowd favorite. Despite performing the song hundreds of times a year, Charles still feels it, delivering the lyrics like nobody else could.

This was actually a pretty swinging Basie-like set, well suited to a jazz festival. Again, Charles keeps things in the brass bag for the Bix and Bing associated “Mississippi Mud.” He brings it down for the soulful “Just for a Thrill,” giving some solo space to David Hoffman’s tasteful flugelhorn. Although this band might not have the famous jazz improvisers of past outfits, like David “Fathead” Newman and Don Wilkerson, it is still a tight band, well drilled by musical director Al Jackson.

This is Ray Charles giving people what they want, like the funky, finger snapping “Scotia Blues” and, of course, the Raelettes. Since “Georgia” was earlier in the set, that means “What’d I Say” was the closer. Maybe Montreux 1997 was not the transcendent statement for the ages from Charles, but he did what he did. The man was cool.

Opening Friday: The Singing Revolution

Imagine thirty-thousand Estonians all singing in harmony. It may sound like a colossal Coca-Cola commercial, but for the Soviets it proved to be a nightmare. The word “inspirational” is almost meaningless through overuse, but it truly applies to The Singing Revolution (trailer below), a new documentary which takes its name from Estonia’s struggle for independence from the Soviet Union.

As well documented by principle producer-directors James Tusty and Maureen Castle Tusty, the Singing Revolution was so named for the role Estonian singing traditions played in their resistance to the Soviets. Central to this story is the quinquennial Laulupidu Song Festival, which had repeatedly been the scene of mass defiance of the Soviet Rule. While the 1947 Song Festival was designed to be a celebration of Stalin’s regime, an Estonian composer slipped past the censors a song based on the patriotic Estonian poem “Land of My Fathers, Land that I Love,” immediately establishing it as the underground national song.

The 1969 festival was again the scene of national self-assertion, as tens of thousands of Estonians spontaneously broke into their forbidden anthem. These song festivals proved to be the model for mass demonstrations against their Soviet oppressors during the waning days of Glasnost, defining the Estonian democracy movement.

One of the many revelations of Singing is the extent of Estonian resistance to the Soviet occupiers, notably from the so-called Forest Brothers partisans, the last of who were finally captured in 1978. Indeed, the filmmakers make the history of Soviet oppression crystal clear. It was the Soviets who first invaded Estonian in 1939 as part of the Molotov-Rippentrop (so-called Hitler-Stalin) Pact, which divided Eastern Europe between the two dictators, and resulted in mass executions and the deportations of hundreds of thousands of Estonians to Siberia. It puts in perspective the Estonian government’s recent controversial decision to dismantle a memorial to the Soviet war dead.

Singing takes pains to be fair to every party involved in the Singing Revolution. Even Vaino Väljas, the final Estonian Party Secretary appointed by Moscow, is given credit for gracefully accepting the will of the people. Other Estonian Communists, particularly ethnic Russians, were not so civilized, but amazingly, the Singing Revolution would be entirely bloodless.

This is a very well put together film. The music is well chosen for both illustrative and dramatic effect. Linda Hunt’s narration is clear and authoritative. The filmmakers have collected some amazing archival footage and conducted many insightful interviews. Wisely, they completely eschewed the usual talking head academics, in favor of the people who really lived the story.

More than just a lesson in history and politics, Singing is about courage, both on the individual and collective level. It is about two police officers charged with protecting the country’s only radio transmitter tower from the invading Soviet army. It is also about hundreds of thousands of Estonians who took to the streets to protest the Soviets and to protect the Estonian government from rioting Communists affiliated with the Interfront faction.

The stories of Singing are truly moving, especially when accompanied by the stirring large scale chorale music of Laulupidu. These events should be common knowledge, yet the recent history of the Estonian Singing Revolution, the Czech Velvet Revolution, and other such courageous movements seeking freedom from Communist rule, are being ignored, forgotten or otherwise discounted these days. Singing Revolution is an excellent antidote. It should be seen by every student in America, as it speaks directly about what it means to be a citizen and to live in a free society. In fact, this film is increasingly timely, as Putin continues to chart an alarmingly neo-Soviet course for Russia.

It opens this Friday in New York at the Village East Cinema. Kite Runner opens the same day, which is also a great film, but Singing will have a more limited window to reach an audience, so interested viewers should make it their priority. Seeking it out is highly recommended.

(Note: The directors will be attending the 7:00 shows on the 14th and 15th for Q&A sessions.)

PBS Stomps Off Holiday Jazz

Whenever PBS broadcasts jazz programming, I have to give it breaking news treatment. After all, I have been critical of the network for using Ken Burns Jazz series as a carrot during pledge drives, and then failing to deliver regular jazz programming throughout the rest of the year (terms like “bait and switch” may have been bandied about). So PBS definitely deserves credit for broadcasting Wynton Marsalis and members of the J@LC band live from their home in the House of Swing (Rose Hall at the Time Warner Center) in Red Hot Holiday Stomp, as part of the Live from Lincoln Center series.

The first half of the program was a well conceived set consisting largely of swinging versions of holiday favorites. Literally everyone loves jazz Christmas music, but a lot of folks just do not realize it. After all, jazz musician Vince Guaraldi was responsible the beloved music of the ever-popular A Charlie Brown Christmas. Here Marsalis and company run through some crowd pleasing Christmas standards like “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” “Carol of the Bells,” “Santa Clause is Coming to Town,” and what Marsalis called “that old Christmas favorite:” “Sheik of Araby.”

If not revolutionary, there were some very entertaining solos, especially from Wessel “Warmdaddy” Anderson on alto and Wycliffe “Pinecone” Gordon on trombone—it is great to hear them back in the band. “Sweet Papa” Don Vappie, who according to Marsalis “got up out of his sick bed to come out here tonight,” probably supplied the highlight of the set with his soulful vocal on “Blue Christmas.”

The second half of the set was made up of “Music, Deep Rivers in My Soul,” a musical collaboration between Marsalis and poet Maya Angelou. S. Epatha Merkerson conveyed strength and warmth in her delivery of Angelou’s words, but the text itself seemed slight compared to the heft of Marsalis’s major works on similar themes, like Blood on the Fields, Congo Square, and In This House on This Morning. Though impressive, the energy of Jared Grimes accompanying tap dancing is probably best experienced live, and was not well served by the camera work last night. Again, the band acquitted itself well. In particular, Ali Jackson’s concluding drum solo was a perfect conclusion, showing wit and dexterity, rather than bombast.

Surprisingly, the typically witty Marsalis did not bring his A game for between-tune banter, but the only really embarrassing aspect of the broadcast was Glenn Close’s gushy “interview” with Marsalis. If you can forget that, which should not be hard to do, it was entertaining showcase of what J@LC does best. (Look for it if your local affiliate did not carry it live last night.) Even if you are not down with Marsalis and his conceptions of jazz, this is great band. It has most of what I consider their classic line-up from the late 1990’s, with fantastic musicians, like Anderson, Gordon, Joe Temperly, Victor Goines, Ron Westray, and of course Marsalis himself, making Holiday Stomp a solid, if all too infrequent, jazz feature on Public Television.

Finding Jackie Paris

Which is more overdone in music documentaries, jazz experts constantly extolling the virtues of unsung artists you have never heard of, or directors who insert themselves into their stories? The thing about Raymond de Felitta’s ‘Tis Autumn: the Search for Jackie Paris (trailer here), a documentary about the underappreciated jazz vocalist and guitarist, is that it does both, in ways that are actually appropriate within the context of the film.

Jackie Paris was indeed a neglected figure in jazz. Even now, most of his CDs are available only as Japanese imports, although several are up on i-tunes. The interview subjects testifying to his musical talents include major jazz figures, like Dr. Billy Taylor, Teddy Charles, James Moody, Ruth Price, Howard Rumsey, Mark Murphy, and Phil Schaap. He even toured with Charlie Parker for six months at the altoist’s request, but never recorded with Bird.

Paris did not lack for famous cheerleaders either. Dr. Taylor played his records on his radio programs. Peggy Lee arranged an ultimately unsuccessful audition with Capitol Records. Lenny Bruce drafted a long passionate letter on behalf of Paris to a showbiz power broker, but never mailed it. (Autumn sees this as mysterious, but from what we know about Bruce, we can probably speculate the drugs had something to do with it.) Somehow the breaks always went against Paris, which is one of the mysteries Autumn explores. Reportedly, he spurned offers of mafia management, which is offered as a potential explanation for his career woes.

Autumn starts with what seems to be another comeback attempt for Paris, booked for a stand at the Jazz Standard. Film director and jazz pianist de Felitta came to hear the voice he only knew from import CDs and meets the man himself. As a result, he befriends Paris, and begins making the film, which culminates with the answer to its central mystery—did Jackie Paris have a child whom he never knew?

As de Felitta pursues leads, his presence in the film makes sense. There are a few scenes of him which should have been cut, as when he visits a New Jersey record show looking for rare Paris records, but overall the director’s presence is necessary for the story telling process. In both cases, Autumn gets away with its jazz documentary clichés.

Autumn is notable precisely because it does not simply engage in hagiography, rather giving a surprisingly balanced portrait of Paris. Despite pursuing the mysteries of the vocalist’s private life, it does keep the focus largely on his music, including some tracks that have not been commercially released before. One such tune, “I’ve Had a Heck of a Time,” is a pitch-perfect choice to run over the concluding credits.

Paris did deserve better. After all, this was the first vocalist to tackle Monk’s “‘Round Midnight.” His albums like The Song is Paris should be considered jazz classics. Autumn makes an effective case on his behalf, wisely selecting some fantastic music to make its points. It is currently playing in New York at the Cinema Village.