Bono: Stories of Surrender, on Apple TV+

If you are a celebrity, never let a good near-death experience go to waste. Much like Jamie Foxx did in his Netflix special, Paul David Hewson frankly discusses how his heart nearly did him in too. Of course, you probably know Hewson by his stage name, Bono. In 2022 (predating Foxx), he performed a run of sold-out one-man shows (with musical accompaniment) adapted from his memoir. The rest of U2 was not present, but their songs (mostly written by Bono/Hewson) form the meat of the Beacon Theatre show captured for posterity in Andrew Dominik’s Bono: Stories of Surender, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Although absent, Bono pays tribute to his U2 bandmates, assuring the audience Larry Mullen, Adam Clayton, and The Edge, were, are, and always will be an important part of his life. In fact, he met them the same week he first became acquainted with his future wife, Ali. That was a good week, but the show devotes more time to difficult moments, such as his mother’s tragic early death, his own health scare, and his challenging relationship with his father, especially after Hewson pere’s cancer diagnosis. That is all heavy stuff, but Bono breaks up his confessional with about a dozen of U2’s biggest hits. There are no originals in Stories of Surrender, which is exactly what most fans would prefer.

Instead of The Edge’s guitar, Bono is backed by frequent U2 collaborator Jacknife Lee on keyboards, Kate Ellis on cello, and Gemma Doherty on harp. The instrumentation is unusual, but it really suits Lee’s arrangements of “Pride,” “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking for,” and “Beautiful Day.” Ironically, the tie-in EP tunes, “Desire” and “The Showman” are not as grabby, despite Doherty’s electric power-harp.

However, Erik Messerschmidt’s cinematography—in glorious black-and-white, just like Phil Joanou’s U2: Rattle & Hum (mostly)—always works. As Bono notes, the staging for his solo show is not as elaborately grandiose as recent U2 stadium concerts, but the lighting effects are quite dramatic, especially when creating halo effects and boom flares, which look cool in a rock & roll kind of way.

Unfortunately, Bono’s soul-searching analysis is only applied to his relationships and never to his activism. Instead, he clings to simplistic slogans, like African debt-forgiveness, even though any college econ major will understand the continent’s perverse adherence to command-and-control economic models inevitably prevents any possibility of prosperity. Frankly, Bono often sounds rather defensive when discussing his political advocacy, with good reason.

Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii MCMLXXII, in IMAX

Unfortunately, David Gilmour announced his retirement from public performance after the “Luck and Strange” tour. Of course there was no-way, no-how he would ever share the stage again with Roger Waters, who now appears in hate rallies instead of concerts. From now on, this film will be the closest many fans will get to experiencing a Pink Floyd concert, especially if they see it in IMAX. Recorded before the release of The Dark Side of the Moon, a more balanced, less Waters-centric band was captured for posterity in Adrian Maben’s Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii MCMLXXII, which is now playing in theaters.

Ironically, Pink Floyd never thought much of this film in any of its various cuts (this is the longest one yet, at 92 minutes). However, it sustained their fans for years, often screening at a time their live shows were relatively limited, especially internationally. While it lacked the extravagant lights and spectacle their live shows became famous for, the surreal setting of the ancient Pompei amphitheater perfectly suits the band’s aesthetic. Likewise, the band looks extremely Floydish strolling through Pompeii’s geothermal steam, as they explore the ancient site.

The Wall came ten years later, so this film is free of its grimness. In some ways, Nick Mason emerges as the star at Pompeii. His deeply resonant drums sound primal and even otherworldly. The opening and closing “Echoes Part 1” and “Part 2” have a vibe reminiscent of the Grateful Dead’s spacey extended jams.

Floyd sounds very Floyd on “Careful with that Axe, Eugene,” “A Saucerful of Secrets,” and “One of These Days,” but they still have an extra trippiness that seems inspired by the location. Maben augmented the later cuts with footage shot in the storied Abbey Road studio, where the band had recently finished their defining Dark Side album. However, for the benefit of the cameras, the band pretends to return for some last-minute touches.

Weirdly, some of Maben’s candid footage became the stuff of band lore, like Mason asking for apple pie “without the crust.” Perhaps the funniest soundbite is their denial Pink Floyd is a “drug” band. Okay fine, now tell that to every stoner ever. On a more serious note, when the band discusses their groundbreaking use of synthesizers, specifically the notion they consciously decide how to use the instruments as a tool rather than letting the technology control how they make music, it eerily parallels similar debates regarding AI today.

Tripping with Nils Frahm, Recorded Live

Musician Nils Frahm's photographer father Klaus Frahm produced covers for a handful of ECM jazz records, including one of their biggest hits, Pat Metheny’s As Falls Wichita, So Falls Wichita Falls, as well as the hidden gem, Tom van der Geld’s Path. Nils Frahm’s music could be described as a fusion of electronic-ambient and classical, so it could well appeal to a lot of ECM fans’ aesthetic sensibilities. Clearly, he has hooked plenty of others listeners too, because his concerts always become sold-out events. Benoit Toulemonde capture a particularly notable concert at the historically significant Funkhaus Berlin in Tripping with Nils Frahm, which premieres tomorrow on MUBI, with the accompanying live album releasing simultaneously.

There are no talking head soundbites in Tripping—just Frahm’s music. Frankly, breaking away from what is clearly a carefully thought-out set list would be a terrible distraction. It is much wiser to let Frahm make his own case through his music. In addition to the piano, Frahm mixes in a number of keyboards and synthesizers (some of which could even be considered retro). Yet, the overall effect of his sonic layering feels fresher than a lot of ambient-techno music.

Frahm establishes the trance-like mood right from the start with the hypnotically catchy “Fundamental Values.” “My Friend the Forest” has an almost pastoral vibe, but the classical influences are even more pronounced in “All Melody,” especially in its synthesized chorale elements. A little later in the set, astute ears might recognize “Says” from executive producer Brad Pitt’s Ad Astra, quite appropriately, given the space age vibe.

Throughout the evening, Frahm demonstrates impressive technique on the piano and assorted keyboards, as well as a shrewd conception of how to incorporate and “play over” multi-tracks and overdubs. He has a fine touch, but he can also power his way home with cascading runs that build towards the concluding climax of “More.” Frahm doesn’t merely wear a set of headphones and press a button—he really plays.

Slamdance ’19: Memphis ’69

It was eleven years after the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival immortalized in Bert Stern’s Jazz on a Summer’s Day and ten years after the establishment of the Newport Folk Festival. The blues revival was well underway, but most of the appreciative audiences for the rediscovered blues legends were up north or in college towns. However, some of the greatest real deal blues artists came together in 1969 to play the Memphis Blues Festival (and mark the city’s sesquicentennial). Adelphi Records founder Gene Rosenthal documented the festival but his footage remained unseen for decades. Happily, the Rosenthal footage has been shaped and edited into Joe LaMattina’s concert film, Memphis ’69 (trailer here), which premiered during the 2019 Slamdance Film Festival.

The comparison with Stern’s classic concert film is particularly apt, because they both vividly and slyly capture a sense of the mood of the crowd and the tenor of the time. However, 1969 Memphis was considerably grittier than 1958 Newport. In fact, the festival was held in the Overton Park Band Shell, where the Klan previously held rallies. That is a point that comes through loudly in the press materials, but the film wisely focuses on the music—and what music it is.

The Bar-Kays and Rufus Thomas come out swinging and the film never slows down. Straight-up legends like Bukka White, Nathan Beauregard, Sleepy John Estes with Yank Rachell, Furry Lewis, Son Thomas, Lum Guffin, Piano Red, and Mississippi Fred McDowell get full feature spots. Frankly, Johnny Winter (arguably the biggest star at the time) sounds rather tame in comparison.

Yet, one of the greatest pleasures in Memphis ’69 is rediscovering some of the rediscoverers, like multi-genre singer-songwriter John D. Loudermilk and soulful Sid Selvidge, who both kill their sets. Again, just like Summer’s Day, Memphis ’69 brings it on home with some old time gospel.

The quality, clarity, and historical significance of Rosenthal’s footage is just stunning. Blues fans will be blown away and non-fans will be converted. This film absolutely belongs on the same shelf as Summer’s Day and Monterey Pop. It is that good. Very highly recommended, Memphis ’69 screens again this Thursday (1/31), as part of this year’s Slamdance Film Festival.

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.

Sundance ’15: Station to Station

Where can hipsterdom and traditional Americana come together in common purpose? Evidently, along our nation’s railways. Neither wants to be tied down, nor are either in any particularly hurry. Collaborating with musicians who would feel at home either at Lollapalooza or on Austin City Limits, Doug Aitken documents a twenty-four day coast-to-coast train trip in sixty-one one-minute shorts films (plus beginning and end credits), assembling it all into the restless, slightly avant-garde concert doc, Station to Station (trailer here), which screened at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

Granted, Aitken’s preferred term of “happenings” is pretty cringey, but the ten stops his transcontinental train made for multi-disciplinary performances mostly look like a lot of fun. It seems the music never stopped, as performer after performer gets their one minute feature spot, sometimes at the happening, other times on the speeding train.

A pair of flamenco dancers, an old school western auctioneer, and the Kansas City Marching Cobras are particularly fun to watch, because they have tons of talent, but they are hardly recognizable celebrities. However, big name recording stars like Beck and Thurston Moore bring their A-game, perhaps even winning over new fans. Of course, nobody can out power soul legend Mavis Staples. Perhaps the biggest surprise is the appearance of Giorgio “Flashdance” Moroder, but it is pretty cool to see him do his thing on the synthesizer.

Despite its linear direction and the imposed limits of the train, Station is a largely shapeless film. However, it has a lot of energy and it is visually quite stylish. Whether it be the lonely desert vistas, the warm glow of an electronica performance, or the evocative sight of Aitken’s movable light show of a train hurtling through the night, he and co-cinematographer Corey Walter always make the rapidly changing visuals look great. On the other hand, when he invites spoken word commentary from the likes of Gary Indiana, we mostly get annoyingly folksy dialectics.

Frankly, Station to Station probably isn’t experimental enough to sit comfortably in Sundance’s New Frontiers section, but it is hard to see where it would more easily fit. It certainly moves along at a good clip. Like Midwest weather, if you’re not digging it, just wait a minute and it will change. Rather pleasant overall, Station to Station is recommended for listeners of Sonic Youth and Patti Smith, as well as the sort of neo-roots artists profiled in No Depression. Having just notched a number of international sales, Station to Station should find its audience after world-premiering at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

12-12-12: the Sandy Aid Concert

People do not realize the swath of Hurricane/Tropical Storm Sandy was so wide, encompassing most of the Tri-State Area and a good chunk of New England, it made flight impractical.  Where were you going to go? Ohio?  As a result, most New Yorkers sat tight and made the best of things.  Many were wiped out and the rebuilding continues to this day.  The Robin Hood Foundation was one of many non-profits that rushed to assist those in need.  To support their efforts, Cablevision-Madison Square Garden boss James Dolan, Clear Channel’s John Sykes, and the always quotable Harvey Weinstein organized a benefit concert at the Garden, featuring some of the biggest (and as many can’t help observing, oldest) acts in rock & roll.  Amir Bar-Lev, with co-director-co-producer Charlie Lightening, documents both the on-stage attractions and the backstage bedlam in 12-12-12 (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Not to be confused with the little seen horror film with the same title, 12-12-12 starts a few days before December 12, 2012, as the power trio scramble to nail down the concert details.  Once again, Sir Paul McCartney is the concert’s lynch pin, as he was for the Concert for New York six weeks after the terrorist attacks of September 11^th.  Once the elder statesman Beatle signed on, some of rock’s biggest names followed, including The Who, the Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, the divisive Roger Waters with Pink Floyd, and Billy Joel, an alumnus of the 2001 benefit, who also featured McCartney as a special guest at his send-off concert for the fondly remembered Shea Stadium.

12-12-12 mostly features songs that roughly sort of fit the evening’s themes, like “Living on a Prayer” and “Miami 2017” (the one that goes “I’ve seen the lights go out on Broadway”), but sometimes it just makes do with greatest hits.  As a follow-up to Bar-Lev’s fantastic music doc Re:Generation Music Project, 12-12-12 is a considerably more commercial, but ironically less interesting subject.  Essentially, it is a clips package, but Bar-Lev still has a shrewd eye behind-the-scenes action.  When the concert’s website goes Sebelius on them, it is rather amusing listening to Weinstein and Dolan try to bullying poor tech support folks into fixing it.  Likewise, it is rather telling to see Jesse Jackson glad-handing any celebrity who will talk to him.

Shockingly, Charlie Watts now looks like the youngest member of the Stones—and he still lays down a solid beat, God bless him.  $50 million was raised for Sandy relief, which definitely helped a lot of people.  Overall, it is a nice film, if not particularly deep, with only an occasional snippet of global warming soap-boxing here and there.  The Robin Hood Foundation is still accepting donations for Sandy Aid, but frankly, this is the time for New Yorkers to come together to support the typhoon survivors in the Philippines, a nation we have a long, close history with that has an accomplished film industry and a better jazz scene than you would expect.  You can donate to the Red Cross relief efforts here.  Recommended for mainstream rock fans, 12-12-12 opens this Friday in New York at the Angelika Film Center.

Neil Young Journeys: Another Demme Concert Film

Toronto’s Massey Hall was the site of a now legendary bebop concert, producing the only live recording cut by the all-star quintet of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Bud Powell, Max Roach, and Charlie Mingus.  That was in 1953.  A lot of headliners have played the storied hall since then, including native son Neil Young, whose rather workaday 2011 homecoming solo sets are documented in Neil Young Journeys (trailer here), his latest concert film directed by Jonathan Demme, which opens this Friday in New York.

If you like distortion, these were the Neil Young shows for you.  Despite the presence of greatest hits like “Hey Hey, My My,” Young draws fairly heavily from his then latest CD, Le Noise, as rockers are apt to do.  It is not called “The Noise” for nothing, but the hard rocking vibe helps compensate for the whininess of his more activist fare, like “Ohio.”

Surprisingly, some of Journeys’ strongest scenes feature Young talking rather than playing.  Cruising to the gig in a vintage 1956 Crown Victoria, the rocker discusses growing up in Omemee, Ontario and his father, the late sportswriter (most notable hockey, but of course) Scott Young for Demme’s camera. He even gives viewers a drive-by of the elementary school named for his father.

If nothing else, one thing comes through loud and clear during Journeys: Young is very definitely still stuck in the 1960’s.  Granted, fans will expect to hear “Ohio,” but the Kent State A-V guilt trip (the only time Demme departs from his intimate, in-his-grill focus on the guitarist) is more than a tad heavy-handed, not to mention disproportionate, compared to scope of subsequent tragedies, like September 11^th.

By and large, the concert footage’s saturated neon colors are reasonably cinematic, while cinematographer Declan Quinn and his mike-cam capture all Young’s stubble and spittle (for real).  Though it is unlikely to win over a host of converts, Young fans have probably been psyched for it, ever since it played Toronto and Park City.  In point of fact, several online sources currently misstate Journeys’ festival credentials, confusing Sundance (where previous Demme-Young docs screened) and Slamdance (where this one had a special featured screening earlier in the year).  Regardless, this is one largely for the faithful.  It opens this Friday (6/29) in New York at the AMC Empire and Landmark Sunshine.  The Quintet’s Jazz at Massey Hall by contrast, is recommended for wide audiences and is available from all quality online retailers.

When Broadway Got Real: Passing Strange (The Movie)

It seemed like there was a revolutionary spirit afoot on Broadway in early 2008, when two new musicals brought the theater world an infusion of energy and hipness. While Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Latin-hip hop flavored In the Heights is still up-and-running, Stew’s hard-rocking Passing Strange closed far too soon, despite garnering excellent reviews and a Tony Award for best book. Yet it was too good to go undocumented, so Spike Lee brought his cameras into the Belasco Theatre to record Stew’s show in the live performance documentary, Passing Strange (trailer here), which starts a limited engagement in New York this Friday.

Passing is the semi-autobiographical creation of the uni-named Stew (at one time known as Mark Stewart), the show’s narrator, guitarist, bandleader, book and lyric writer, and co-composer/co-orchestrator with bassist Heidi Rodewald. Although Stew had an understudy listed in programs, it is difficult to imagine the show without him driving the band and offering witty musical commentary on the dramatic proceedings.

In a variation on the on-the-road story, the simply named Youth, feeling constricted by his lower middle class Los Angeles upbringing, sets out on a journey to find “the real.” Yet it is not clear whether the aspiring songwriter really wants to find it, preferring the excesses of Amsterdam’s bohemian hash bars and the hipster pretensions of Berlin. His expatriate voyage unfolds on an austere stage right in the midst of Stew’s band, with only a few plain chairs for a set.

At times the book is quite clever, savagely satirizing the self-important leftist performance art of the Berliners. Featuring sharply incisive dialogue, Passing challenges the audience’s expectations in shrewd ways, frankly addressing issues of personal identity and authenticity in race, sex, and art. When the Youth adopts a militant Black Power persona to impress the Berlin artist collective, his role-playing is undercut by Stew’s narration: “Nobody in this play knows what it’s like to hustle for dimes on the mean streets of South Central.”

Daniel Breaker is quite convincing as the somewhat immature Youth, perhaps benefiting the most from Lee’s cinematic close-ups. Likewise, the power of Eisa Davis’s performance as his mother remains undiminished by the show’s transition to the big screen. However, Stew dominates the show with his music and presence. Together with Rodewald, Christian Gibbs on drums, and Jon Spurney and Christian Cassan, both doubling on guitar and keyboards, they rock the house, far more than any previous so-called “rock musical.”

Indeed, the music of Passing is quite catchy and it legitimately rocks, but the program is a bit unbalanced, with most of the absolute killer showstoppers, like “Arlington Hill,” “Amsterdam,” and “Keys” front-loaded in the first act. Yet throughout the show, Stew’s effective recurring riffs like, “just when it was starting to feel real,” tie the music and drama together quite powerfully.

Employing multiple cameras over three nights of shooting, Lee and cinematographer Matthew Libatique capture the sweaty vitality of the show’s essence. However, it seems like they were a tad stingy with Rodewald’s screen time, which is a shame considering her contributions as Stew’s musical collaborator and her own talent as a musician.

Lee might have directed the film, but Passing is still undeniably Stew’s show. It was as real as it gets on Broadway. When the musicians and actors take their final bows on stage, cinema audiences will probably find themselves up on their feet, applauding along with the Belasco patrons. It is a fine send-off for one of the best musicals of the last decade.

It opens on the 21st at the IFC Film Center, with Stew and Rodewald attending the 6:15 & 9:20 screenings on Friday and Saturday, as well as the 3:30 screening on Sunday.

Big Screen Beck

To thrive in talk radio, you have to be entertaining. With over 300 stations syndicating his three hour radio show and a new television show debuting on Fox News in January, Glenn Beck is clearly doing okay for himself. Obviously, he knows something about entertaining an audience. Still, his ability to carry a one-man stage show came as a bit of a surprise last night in Fathom Events’ live theater simulcast of Glenn Beck’s The Christmas Sweater (trailer here).

Based on his bestselling novel, Sweater is an odd hyrid of cinema, theater, and variety show, based around Beck’s emotional reminiscences of his fateful twelfth Christmas. Still grieving his father, Beck, then known as Eddie, is hoping for some consolation under the tree. Unfortunately, all his hard working mother can afford is the yarn for a sweater. Disappointed, Eddie hurtfully withdraws from his mother and grandparents, setting in motion a story of tragedy and more importantly, redemption.

While Beck supplies all the drama, he is not alone on the stage. He is accompanied by strings and woodwinds, as well as Chanta C. Layton, a show-stopping gospel vocalist with an enormous voice. Her musical interludes help the show avoid the pitfalls of one-person shows, which often seem like one long unrelieved monologue (as indeed they usually are). In fact, an early performance of the favorite hymn of Eddie’s late father plays an important role in Sweater’s character development.

Sneer and scoff all you wish, but Beck shows some genuine acting chops in Sweater. Though not singing or dancing, Beck brings a real physicality to his performance, literally working up a sweat on-stage. Deliberately blurring the lines of fiction and autobiography, Sweater often feels like a confessional, as Beck essentially bares his soul on stage. Unquestionably sentimental, the story is also legitimately moving, up until the disappointingly contrived (but obligatorily happy) conclusion.

Although the energy flags a bit immediately following the ten minute intermission, director Don Brenner generally balances Beck, the music, and the projected background images quite well. Frankly, for what is essentially a concert film, Sweater has an appealing look (far superior to the flat Allah Made Me Funny, for instance).

Beck can actually act and he evidently knows how to hire people who can sing. He is also controversial, so no doubt many will find it difficult to get past their preconceived notions of the radio host. However, he deserves credit for a revealingly honest performance. Though Beck scrupulously avoids the political in Sweater, arguably one can see in it the values of family and faith which shape his world view.

Produced by Fathom Events, known for their Metropolitan Opera simulcasts and special anime screenings, Sweater is an unusual cinema experience, more closely akin to the legitimate stage. I'm not sure what I really expected either, but those with an open mind will be impressed by Beck’s screen presence. Look for Fathom’s encore screening tonight at these theaters.

Allah Made Them Think They’re Funny

After the violent protests and death threats provoked by the publication of a handful of relatively benign Danish cartoons satirizing (Heaven forbid) Islam and the Prophet Muhammad, it is safe to say fundamentalist Muslims do not have a reputation for a sense of humor. However, three practicing American Muslim comedians have banded together for a series of comedy albums and tours, documented in Allah Made Me Funny (trailer here), opening today in select cities for a limited one week release window.

How funny you find the comics seems to depend on how closely you share their world views, which suggests their stand-up routines are less about getting laughs and more about hearing an “Amen” from the audience. The three comics of AMMF are logically presented in increasing order of mirth. I laughed exactly once during Mo Amer’s set, twice during Azhar Usman’s, and a respectable nine or ten times for Preacher Moss.

Clearly, Moss, a former SNL writer, is the class of the film and tour. His strongest material describes his family experiences during his conversion to Islam. It worked so well because it is an experience somewhat unique in the particulars, yet involving the sort of family drama everyone can relate to.

Much of Amer and Usman’s material by contrast, offered up stale Bush jokes that could have come from anyone on MSNBC. They also treat us to jokes about “flying while Muslim,” which even Amer referred to as “obligatory.” Particularly after screening Bliss, the Turkish honor killing film, their frequent riffs on how ferocious Muslim women really are in private seemed disconcerting in a “doth protest too much” kind of way. Though benign, much of their slice-of-life material sounded fairly shop-worn. Amer’s olive oil routine for instance, suggests strong parallels with Chris Rock on his father’s use of Robitussin as a cure-all.

There is no question Islam desperately needs a satirist—one capable of casting a gimlet eye inward as well as outward. At times, Moss showed hints he might have that in him. However, his colleagues were content to simply preach to the choir.

Even with a brief running time under ninety minutes, AMMF still feels padded. The material here would work better edited down for an hour long cable special, if the majority of the time was allotted to Moss. As it is, AMMF never feels like a special event, rather just another night on the tour. It opens today in New York at the Quad, with Moss in attendance for a Q&A following tonight’s 8:00 screening.

Jazz on the Fourth of July

Louis Armstrong believed he was born on July 4, 1900. Subsequent historical research might suggest otherwise, but why get hung up on mere details? A true Horatio Alger figure, who revolutionized both instrumental and vocal music, and represented America abroad as the unofficial “Ambassador Satch,” it is a symbolically fitting birthday for Armstrong, so I always listen to his music over the holiday. This Fourth of July you can see him on the big screen when the Lincoln Center’s Walter Reade screens Bert Stern’s celebrated documentary Jazz on a Summer’s Day.

1958 was a busy Fourth of July weekend for Rhode Island. In addition to George Wein’s Newport Jazz Festival, America’s Cup qualifying heats were running off the coast. Part of Summer’s charm is the way director Bert Stern incorporates not just the races, but all the life and carousing going on around the festival.

Jimmy Giuffre might not be widely known outside of jazz circles, but his performance of “The Train and the River” was an inspired choice for the opening credits. Breezy and bluesy with a hint of abstractness, it perfectly matches Stern’s images of the ocean and his wavy titles. This was Giuffre’s most accessible combo, a trio of himself on reeds, Bob Brookmeyer on valve trombone and Jim Hall on guitar (visible only when taking a bow at the end of the number). As many times as I have seen this film, this sequence always draws me in again.

In retrospect, it seems weird Thelonious Monk was scheduled so early in the festival. We see him playing to a sparse audience that included an appreciative Gerry Mulligan, who would take the stage later that night. Monk’s performance of “Blue Monk” and VOA D.J. Willis Conover’s introduction might actually sound familiar, having been sampled in a sneaker commercial.

Festival attendees were indeed fortunate getting a chance to hear future legends in sideman roles, most famously including a young Roswell Rudd, later to become the most important trombonist in the avant-garde, seen in Newport careening around the roads with the Dixieland band Eli’s Chosen Six. We also hear working bands that sadly never recorded outside of Stern’s film, like the group co-led by Sonny Stitt and former Kenton guitarist Sal Salvador, stuck with the dreaded “under-appreciated” appellation throughout his career.

A young Eric Dolphy also appears in a sideman role with Chico Hamilton’s band. Stern uses the Hamilton group as a touchstone throughout the film, juxtaposing their serious rehearsals with the revelry of the festival. I often use their performance of “Blue Sands” as an ace-in-the-hole in my jazz survey courses. The combination of the exotic sounds of Dolphy’s flute and Nate Gershman’s cello combined with Stern gorgeous color photography is always a knockout punch.

Of course the biggest star was Louis Armstrong, performing in the film’s penultimate timeslot for a clearly adoring audience. As Armstrong plays and relates anecdotes of hobnobbing with crowned heads of Europe for Conover, the film establishes him as uncrowned American royalty. After Armstrong’s Saturday night set finishes past midnight, Conover gives Mahalia Jackson probably the best stage introduction ever, ending Summer on Sunday morning with a gospel note.

Summer is a classic. For all the times I have watched it for use in a class, I still enjoy it like I’m seeing I for the first time. It is patriotic movie too. After all, it honors America’s only original art form: jazz. It screens four times today at the Walter Reade, with Stern and Wein appearing as honored guests for the 6:00 show. Happy Fourth of July.