Tuner: Herbie Hancock Cameos

Jazz and classical musicians probably have more in common than many people realize.  That is particularly true when it comes to piano preferences. They all rely on tuners like Harry Horowitz (no relation to Vladimir). However, at this point his apprentice Niki White does most of the work. The former pianist’s ears are both his greatest strength and curse in Daniel Roher’s Tuner, which releases Tuesday on DVD.

White was once a musical prodigy, but his acute hyperacusis derailed his career. He now works with Horowitz, with the help of muffling earphones to protect against loud noises. He still has perfect pitch and an incredible sensitivity to the slightest changes in sound. Ironically, it also makes him a natural safe-cracker.

He originally discovered this new talent when Horowitz, his fading mentor, locks his hearing aids in his safe and forgets the combination. Shortly thereafter, he demonstrates it under “professional” conditions, when Uri interrupts his late-night tuning session in a wealthy client’s home. Uri also works for the rich tool, as his security consultant. Uri knows his customers’ security systems and the locations of their safes. Cracking them is the tricky part, until he meets White.

At first, Uri tells his gang to only take just enough to make a tidy score, but not so much that will be quickly missed. Thanks to Uri’s steady gigs, White starts paying down Horowitz’s medical bills. However, Uri recruits White for a gig involving the Korean mob that takes an ugly, nasty turn. Unfortunately, Uri starts threatening Ruthie Waymon, White’s new girlfriend, until the tuner returns for a high-risk follow-up.

Frankly, Tuner is a pretty impressive narrative debut for Roher, who previously helmed the Oscar-winning documentary, Navalny. There are many hip, knowing references to both classical music and jazz. In fact, Herbie Hancock appears as himself, who happens to be one of Horowitz’s regular customers.

Leo Woodall is quite convincing as White, which rather follows, since the twitchy mathematician he portrayed in Prime Target was like an extended dress rehearsal. Havana Rose Liu is convincingly sensitive and neurotic as Waymon. It is also nice to see Dustin Hoffman get a furlough from cancel culture prison to play Horowitz. He is well cast, thanks to his facility for both manic humor and pathos. Plus, Jean Reno brings a touch of class in the small but significant role of composer Marius Maissner.

Wayne Shorter: Zero Gravity, on Prime

Any and every jazz listener was a Wayne Shorter fan. Yet, when it came to science fiction movies and comics, he was a fan too, just like the rest of us nerds. In fact, one of his final releases was a three-disc set that came with an accompanying graphic novel that Shorter wrote. Dorsay Alavi leans into the saxophonist’s otherworldly interests (without losing sight of his music) in the three-part Wayne Shorter: Zero Gravity, which premieres tomorrow on Prime.

It is almost three and a quarter hours of Wayne Shorter, which is just fine with us. Like his former boss, Miles Davis, Shorter had distinctive periods. The first episode starts in childhood and takes him through the “Second Great Miles Davis Quintet,” including most of his Blue Note tenure. The second installment covers Weather Report, the fusion super-group that went through nearly as many phases of its own, as well as some of his subsequent projects, like Native Dancer, featuring Milton Nascimento. The final hour mostly focuses on his celebrated quartet (with Danilo Perez, Brian Blade, and John Patitucci), as well as the orchestral works he merged them into. Sadly though, each period is also marked by at least one terrible personal tragedy, sometimes more than one.

Casual fans may not be aware the TWA flight 800 crash impacted Shorter in a very direct and personal way, but it certainly did. In fact, one of the most memorable interviews of the entire docu-series is that with Shorter’s former road manager, who had to break the news to the jazz legend while he was on tour. However, Alavi mostly focuses on Shorter’s childhood relationship with his brother Alan, a much freer avant-garde trumpeter, who died suddenly in 1988, soon his betrothal to a cousin of Herbie Hancock (one of Wayne Shorter’s closest friends and musical collaborators), largely glossing over their adult relationship.

Jazz listeners will be happy to see Alavi scores sit-downs with just about everybody they would want to hear from, who are still alive, including Hancock, Ron Carter, Sonny Rollins, Dave Holland, Curtis Fuller, Reggie Workman, Wallace Rooney (obviously recorded before his tragically early demise), Peter Erskine, and the other three members of Shorter’s Quartet. Conversely, Shorter’s history is also a sad reminder of how many greats we have lost, often far too soon.

In Concert at the Hollywood Bowl: The Jazz Installment

The Hollywood Bowl is an open-air venue, but not open enough to save the 2020 season. (Thanks again Xi, and have fun partying in Davos.) Fortunately, a number of significant musicians were recorded live-in-performance at the iconic concert hall, so the L.A. Phil had plenty of footage to chose from when their new “in concert” series. Jazz gets its own episode, rather fittingly considering Norman Granz set a Bowl attendance record at the time in 1956 with one of his “Jazz at the Philharmonic” all-star revues. They have also programmed some good stuff in recent years, some of which is collected in In Concert at the Hollywood Bowl: Jazz at the Hollywood Bowl, which premieres Friday on PBS. (By the way, you get the idea that this was recorded at the Hollywood Bowl, right?)

The way Chucho Valdes plays, they really should have saved him to close the program, but hey, we’ll take him whenever. The Afro-Cuban jazz pianist’s rendition of “Bebo,” dedicated to his father Bebo Valdes, is nearly as awesome as his performances in Calle 54 (that means it’s very awesome). It could also be an infectious introduction to Afro-Cuban percussion for some tragically sheltered viewers.

Fans should then be delighted to see and hear Dianne Reeves (the L.A. Phil’s first creative jazz chair) performing “She Walks the Earth” with Brazilian keyboard player Ivan Lins. It is a characteristically elegant and sophisticated, but still very swinging performance. (Frankly, she really should have recorded more since moving from Blue Note to Concord—and given how closely we associate her with the former label’s relaunch, it is hard to fathom how they let her go.)

Kamasi Washington’s “Truth” is another highlight that could surprise a lot of PBS-watching jazz novices with its wonderful colors and textures. Washington shares aesthetic kinships with vintage Coltrane and even Eddie Gale, but a tune like this is also more melodic and therefore more accessible.

The Phil’s maestro Gustavo Dudamel gives vocalist Cecile McLorin Salvant an unfairly intimidating intro, comparing her to Billie Holiday and Nina Simone, but then she exhibits a unique delivery style on “Something’s Coming” from West Side Story. It is also nice to see Aaron Diehl’s trio backing her.

Bassist Christian McBride (the Phil’s 2^nd jazz chair) leads his big band and vocalist Jose James through a brisk, brassy, bluesy, and scatty take on Bobby Timmons’ “Moanin,’” best remembered from the Lee Morgan-era Messengers’ classic recording. It has a solid, toe-tapping vibe, even if you can’t help comparing it to the Blakey original.

The Symphonic Gershwin with Hancock, Dudamel, and the L.A. Phil

In the 1920’s Paul Whiteman was the biggest so-called “jazz” bandleader in the country. Today, he is largely ignored. He had many hot soloists, but his sound was more sweet than swinging. His name pretty much said it all. However, the sort-of concerto he commissioned from George Gershwin would become arguably the most recognizable American classical composition of all time. Appropriately, the jazz inspired Rhapsody in Blue is the centerpiece of a L.A. Philharmonic concert of Gershwin’s music featuring NEA Jazz Master Herbie Hancock, which airs on PBS’s Great Performances this Friday (preview here).

The evening starts with An American in Paris as a feature for the Philharmonic under the direction of Gustavo Dudamel. It is fitting companion piece to the Blue, including some nice solos for muted and hatted trumpet as well as some vaguely jazzish passages. With its diverse movements and crowd-pleasing car horn effects, it is definitely a money’s-worth selection.

The second selection of the televised concert is Hancock’s solo piano rendition of “Someone to Watch Over Me.” Perhaps inspired by the setting, he gives it a rather rhapsodic introduction, before settling into a more contemplative mood. Indeed, he approaches the melody quite obliquely, which is something of a surprise given the venue. After all, “Watch” is one of those songs nearly everyone with any musical literacy sings along with in their head.

The main event though, is undeniably Rhapsody in Blue performed with a traditional arrangement, but allowing Hancock considerably greater interpretive space. Yet, all the magic moments are still there, including the ever beautiful clarinet introduction, perhaps the instrument’s finest classical moment (though not necessarily in jazz, thanks to Woody Herman, Sidney Bechet, and Benny Goodman, among others).

According to Hancock, this is his premiere appearance with a symphony performing any sort of classical-jazz symphonic hybrid. Once known as the “kid” Blue Note Records signed, the seventy-one year old pianist looks at least twenty years younger. He clearly has not lost a step either, attacking Blue with a much wider dynamic range than typical, while even throwing in a legit improvisation here and there.

It is always worth hearing a new version of Rhapsody in Blue, particularly from musicians of the L.A. Philharmonic’s caliber. As an acknowledged master and the L.A. Phil’s current Creative Chair for Jazz, Hancock also provides some tasty moments, even if jazz piano with orchestra is not as natural a fit for him as for a Dave Brubeck or John Lewis. Classy entertainment (if not absolutely epochal), the L.A. Philharmonic’s Gershwin program is a nice way for Great Performances to start the year. It premieres this Friday (1/6) on most PBS outlets.

35-Year Anniversary: Death Wish

Released less than a year apart, The Spook Who Sat by the Door and Death Wish could both be described as dramas of urban angst, featuring soundtracks composed by Herbie Hancock. There the similarities end. Spook was a poorly distributed blaxploitation film about an urban uprising masterminded by the first token African-American hired by the C.I.A. Death Wish (trailer here) became a summer blockbuster that spawned four sequels and a host of inferior imitators. AMC marks the thirty-fifth anniversary of the 1974 original with special broadcasts of the first three Death Wish films this weekend, to be repeated again later in the month.

Although Hancock was at the height of his jazz fusion popularity at this time, his music for Death Wish is more traditionally cinematic and less funky than that of Spook. In terms of ideological implications the two films are entire worlds apart. Spook glorifies a paramilitary group not unlike the Black Panthers. Death Wish chronicles the conversion of an Upper Westside left-winger into a deliberate vigilante. When accused of being a “bleeding heart liberal” early in the film, Charles Bronson’s soon-to-be bereaved architect Paul Kersey replies: “my heart bleeds a little for the under-privileged, yeah.” By the end of the film, it would take considerable rounds of ammunition to get Kersey’s heart to bleed.

The original Death Wish is a somewhat misunderstood film. It is not simply an exercise in target practice, but a darkly brooding portrait of grief and anger. Director Michael Winner takes his time establishing Kersey’s character (at least in the original film), before indulging the audience’s appetite for vengeance. In fact, the film has a relatively modest body count, nearly reaching its halfway point before Kersey finally puts his first notch in his gun-belt.

Though not as memorable as his Spook themes, Hancock’s music effectively underscores the film’s action. If you know anything about Death Wish’s premise, you are expecting something awful to happen to Kersey's family during the opening scenes, and Hancock’s eerie use of strings and synths heightens that uneasy tension (be advised, when the attack occurs, it is still fairly rough viewing, even by jaded contemporary standards). Winner also perfectly captures the vibe of the gritty, grimy New York of the early 1970’s. Viewing it again should lead to greater appreciation of the City’s turnaround under Mayor Giuliani. (As bad as things were when Death Wish was shot, they got worse under Dinkins.)

Death Wish established Bronson as a major box office draw, but also accelerated his type-casting as a squinty-eyed anti-hero. Arguably, it is minor classic, but not a major masterwork. Somewhat unfairly dismissed due to the films which followed it, the original is worth re-evaluating in its thirty-fifth year.

Grammy Recap

It seemed tonight the Academy had decided the excellence of the recording industry was best represented by Amy Winehouse, until Herbie Hancock pulled off a NY Giants sized upset for Album of the Year. That I did not predict. (Complete list of winner here.)

In terms of programming, between Herbie Hancock playing Gershwin and Eldar paying tribute to Oscar Peterson, jazz got about six minutes of air time. (Actually, no I do not have a lot of time on my hands, but I’d like to track jazz’s Grammy penetration from year to year.) Of course, jazz collectively cannot complain this year, given Hancock’s big win. In addition, many of this year’s departed jazz greats were duly honored in the annual memorial tribute, including: Oscar Peterson, Max Roach, Al Viola, Joel Dorn, and Joe Zawinul.

As for my predictions, they are not completely embarrassing:

Herbie Hancock won for Best Contemporary Jazz Album. Check. No surprise, as he was playing the telecast. Sorry Eldar, but presumably your time will come. I predicted anyone but Hancock for Album of the year—happy to be wrong there.

Patti Austin won for Best Jazz Vocal Album for Avant Gershwin. My prediction was Dee Dee Bridgewater. There seemed to be a Gershwin vibe going on with the Grammy’s this year.

Best Instrumental Solo and Best Jazz Instrumental Album went to the late great Michael Brecker. Check and check.

New Orleans’ own Terence Blanchard won for Best Large Jazz Ensemble Album (and one of your J.B. Spins Best of 2007). Check.

Paquito D’Rivera followed up a Downbeat poll win with a Best Latin Jazz Grammy. Check.

Best Traditional Blues Album went to Last of the Great Mississippi Delta Bluesmen. I predicted Koko Taylor and as high powered a combination Henry Townsend, "Pinetop" Perkins, Robert Lockwood, Jr., and David "Honeyboy" Edwards are, I am shocked they beat out Taylor.

Best Musical Show Album went to Spring Awakening. Company deserved it, but check.

Best Score went to Ratatouille. I predicted the Oscar winner Babel.

Best Composition went to Maria Schneider. Check.

Best Instrumental Arrangement went to Vince Mendoza for “In a Silent Way” on Zawinul’s Brown Street. I was really pulling for Steve Wiest, but to be fair, that was a great album.

Seven right, five wrong. That is not eerily prescient, but maybe not terrible.