A Film of an Unfilmable Novel: Jack Kerouac's "On The Road" (2012)

For all of my 56 years, it was assumed this classic, genre'-defining, beat generation novel was unfilmable. But, as usual, patience pays off.

"... No, I don't belong to her, I don't belong to anybody ...."

The master tapes for this formerly unreleased Dylan treasure were given to the film's director Todd Haynes, after a frustrating search, by Neil Young. Personally, that tells me something about the quality of the song. Originally an outtake from The Basement Tapes (recorded 1967; released 1975), this song appeared for the first time on the I'm Not There Soundtrack (2007). I'm relishing it.

And here's another Basement Tapes gem that shines in the film. I'd never heard this song and now it's a favorite of mine; Jim James and Calexico give us a great cover.

I may have more to say about the two disc soundtrack to Haynes' film when I've better absorbed this wall to wall AAA set of covers that were the film's starting point. For now, dig these treasures reborn.

Jimmy Cliff: "Many Rivers To Cross" (1972)

Here's the incomparable Jimmy Cliff performing a definitive studio version of his classic Many Rivers to Cross, from the soundtrack album of the reggae break-out film The Harder They Come (1972).

The soundtrack album changed my life in more ways than one. When I dragged my first wife to see the film, I loved it and she hated it. You can't changed your taste, but wives, well, let's just say I still love the album and she's long gone.

So here's Many Rivers to Cross, a heavily gospel influenced song Cliff wrote in 1969.

"Memo from Turner"

This clip from the 1970 film Performance foreshadows the music video format to come years later. And the music here is raw rock 'n' roll at its finest.

In the clip Mick Jagger acts out the second of the two dramatic personae of his film character Turner. Earlier in the film he establishes Turner as a petulant, reclusive but seemingly harmless rock star. Here we see Turner shifting identities, now a rock-star-as-psychedelic-gangster personifying corruption and decadence.

The song would have disappeared into the void of Stones-related cult material but for Martin Scorsese placing a slice of Memo from Turner right in the heart of a cocaine binge sequence in his acclaimed film Goodfellas (1990). While very few people will ever see Performance, Scorsese brings Ry Cooder's searing slide guitar work on Memo to a wider audience. My hat's off to Mick, Ry, and Marty.

(A version of Memo from Turner with better audio quality is near the top of the red jukebox at left.)

"Goin' to Acapulco, Goin' On The Run."

I've raved about Todd Haynes' I'm Not There (film) as an instant classic. (If you click on the album cover above, you'll see the soundtrack CD is even broader than the music that makes it into the film.) Here's an example of the power of the film for me: a Dylan song I've never heard of, covered by a band I barely know, lands among my top five music segments from the film.

Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid are loosely woven through this new hide-out myth of Dylan's late sixties brief escape from the rock n' roll world. The surreal town of "Riddle" becomes the target of development (in this quasi-old-west tale (the railroad's coming right through the secluded valley) and the morality tale driving Dylan's outlaw-in-hiding persona a little farther down the road. Other interpretations welcome.

In the clip below -- (16 May 2010 update: My apologies, Web Sheriff has yanked the clip below because of a copyright claim; you will just have to trust me and rent the DVD) -- Jim James with Calexico give a spine-tingling, poignant performance. It's representative of such dramatic moments in the film, a film always reaching to grasp the multidimensional Dylan.

*****

*****

"One More Cup of Coffee Before I Go, To the Valley Below"

Cate Blanchett
as one of six actors portraying a distinct aspect of Bob Dylan's Internal Personal Journey
in Todd Haynes' film I'm Not There.

As with many great films, I'm Not There asks more questions than it answers. For example:

• How would one get Cate Blanchett to look like Bob Dylan in his angry early 20s?

"Every picture tells a [thousand] stories, don't it?"

That is she in silhouette above. She truly channels the young, tortured genius (it must be noted, Mr. Dylan would rather I just wrote "Portrait of the Dog as A Young Artist," and shut up.) It's like a chocolate subway full of Canadian mucisians, a wanderer from Minnesota, Jesse James, and an Arkansas drummer. Nobody tells Blanchett, Dylan, or Me what to do, except our Muses -- as for me and Bob, our demons get a big say too.

• Six actors to play one, real, living person?

If there was ever any doubt as to how important Bob Dylan has been to our culture, the fact that Hayes pulls this off settles that; Dylan is a legend in his own time. Are you down with that?

• Yes, the remaining doubters might say, but what about that sandpaper voice?

That is the voice of you and me, of every man, woman, and child. When Dylan teaches us strident intolerance of any lie, you be glad he sounds like that. I'm thankful I got one overlapping reincarnation.

*****
I'm starting to rant; let me wrap this up. To summarize:

• See this film. (It's now available on DVD.)

This is a modern masterpiece for Dylan junkies and also a perfect introduction for those open to learning about our greatest living philosopher poet.

Now, how about one more cup of coffee while we wait for the city to fix the pump handle broken by the vandals?

Epigram

Because of the fashion in which I'm Not There handles one of the five most important moments in rock 'n' roll -- Dylan, Bloomfield, Al Cooper, and The Hawks going electric at the Newport Folk Festival, see No Direction Home first. This Martin Scorsese documentary is also available on DVD and well worth buying.

The Evolution of A Rock Band: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

When I was young, I had to piece together my knowledge of a rock band bit by bit, story by story, picture by picture, concert by concert. Now I've discovered Wikipedia, among other great things: an online encyclopedia of the history of rock and roll. But while the Wiki folks are still getting there, they can't provide me (yet) with clips of Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne and Tom Petty sitting with their guitars in a studio working out a song. They don't have interview footage of how Tom Petty got his drummer to show up for a charity gig by telling him (truthfully) that Ringo would play it if he didn't. And most importantly, Wikipedia does not provide me with concert footage of songs as great as The Last DJ. But Runnin' Down A Dream: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers does. And more.

This Peter Bogdanovich documentary gives us something I've never seen before: the credible, mesmerizing behind-the-scenes story of a real rock and roll band, fighting not only the record companies, but also their own personal demons, and creating great music all the time.

Two of my top 10 producers, Jimmy Iovine and Rick Rubin, come to life in the interview and recording session clips. The Heartbreakers are all lookin' like bad asses in the picture above, but in the film the gentleness, the musical tenacity, and on occasion the moodiness of these vulnerable men comes through.

Petty and Stevie Nicks recount the tale of Nicks' desire to leave Fleetwood Mac and join the Heartbeakers. "But there aren't any girls in the Heartbreakers" Petty tells her again and again. The result: one of several musical collaborations documented here that are now what I call music of the 80's that mattered.

I could go on and on, but I'd only be spoiling Bogdanovich's show. At the heart of this stellar documentary is the evolution of two things: a working rock band keepin' it all together over thirty years of turmoil, and the increasingly mature work of a songwriter/poet that will speak truth to power at any cost.

Of speaking truth to power, let me give you just one example, regarding my personal favorite in the Tom Petty songbook:

Well you can’t turn him into a company man
You can’t turn him into a whore
And the boys upstairs just don’t understand anymore
Well the top brass don’t like him talking so much
And he won’t play what they say to play
And he don’t want to change what don’t need to change

And there goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey, hey, hey
And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
There goes the last DJ

Well some folks say they’re gonna hang him so high
Because you just can’t do what he did
There’s some things you just can’t put in the minds of those kids
As we celebrate mediocrity, all the boys upstairs want to see
How much you’ll pay for what you used to get for free

And there goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey, hey, hey
And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
And there goes the last DJ

Well he got him a station down in Mexico
And sometimes it will kinda come in
And I’ll bust a move and remember how it was back then

There goes the last DJ
Who plays what he wants to play
And says what he wants to say
Hey, hey, hey
And there goes your freedom of choice
There goes the last human voice
And there goes the last DJ.

(The Last DJ by Tom Petty)

Corporate takeover of the music industry got the last free DJ. And I now have to pay for what I used to get for free. But the suits haven't cut down the fighters like Dylan, Neil Young, Willie Nelson, Bruce, Tom Petty, and community radio. And I've got hope.
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The Breakdown of "Omerta" and the Lure of Drug Profits: Copolla, Scorcese and Modern Mob Films

James "Jimmy the Gent" Burke

Commune di Corleone , Sicilia

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The tragic history of Sicily -- conquered time and again through the millenia due to it's strategic location along traditional vital Mediterranean routes -- helps us understand why the people of that stunningly beautiful island organized themselves for protection from subjugation and sanctioned government cruelty. In modern parlance, historically: American immigrants' need for protection from the cops.

And why wouldn't the isolated, non-English-speaking Sicilian immigrants bring their deep beliefs in Omerta' and other Mafia tools with them, through Ellis Island to North America. And why wouldn't this notion of familia, organized as the old Roman legions were, evolve as the U.S. matured and grew in the 20th century? Well, they would, and did, and North America changed and so did the Mafia.

And soon the great Mob films will be about the Eastern European Mafia that quickly emerged after the implosion of the U.S.S.R. -- first out of the non-indie gate is the just released Eastern Promises.

*****
It is the older, gritty classics -- Public Enemy, Little Caesar, White Heat, Scarface (1932 original) -- that so heavily influenced Martin Scorcese, and North America.

The modern classics of this genre we owe primarily to two men: Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola.

Don't compare Coppola's The Godfather trilogy to Goodfellas or any of Martin Scorsese's crime syndicate movies. Coppola shows a progression from the Cosa Nostra of 1940's, with flashbacks to the first quarter of the 20th century, through North America's ongoing love affair with coke and horse. I would argue that the increase in disorganized violence was partially caused by growing illicit drug profits; it may also be argued the loss of the friendship of the Pezzonovante' (bigshots) of the Church and government went hand-in-hand with the Mafia's move into the drug trade.

In DeNiro's and Liotta's Goodfellas characters, we see competent men who couldn't break into "The Family" because they weren't full blooded Sicilian. More importantly, we also see an excellent view of mob life from the "Button Man's" perspective.

Bottom line, both the Corleone and the Paul "Paulie" Cicero (Goodfellas) syndicates were brought down, in part, by the drug trade backed up with automatic weapons.

*****
For a historical persective on gang life, a brief discussion of Scorsese's Gangs of New York is warranted. The Five Points in 19th century Manhattan gangs alignment with Tammany Hall protected them for a while, but here hatred clouded reason and the last days of the Civil War took their toll. Compare Casino and Mean Streets.

Of course, the period Irish music -- which to great degree still is played in cities such as Chicago -- is superb. Hats off to Scorsese and Executive Music Supervisor Robbie Robertson. And then there's the elegant use of a modern Irish band, U2, with there over-the-credits ending theme: The Hands That Built America.

******
Drug trafficking, lack of backing organization, and uncontrolled violence are one unifying theme in the downfall of these criminal empires. In Scorsese's most recent syndicate film, The Departed (2006), the Syndicate boss (Jack Nicholson's character) deals directly with a new, inner circle "button man" (Leonardo DiCaprio's character) -- note: buffer system smashed. Further, this Irish Mob shreds Omerta'; finally, Southie is drowning in white powder and Nicholson's character, well, ... -- that would be spoiler information on a new essential film; you won't get it from me.

The unifying lessons of the Cosa Nostra films: get well organized, be faithful until death to
omerta'; and stay away from trafficking in white powders.

By way of comparison, check out Forrest Whitaker as the lead character in Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai -- a professional assassin following a strict Samurai code.

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Wanna Climb Inside the Andy Warhol Scene?

The Sundance Film Festival-praised independent film -- one Lou Reed never wanted made because of his anger at the lead character -- shows the tender-but-plastic world of Andy Warhol's 1960's "Factory" as back drop to the revolutionary (or whacked -- you call it) actions of Valerie Solanas, portrayed exquisitely by Lili Taylor in I Shot Andy Warhol.

If nothing else, this film intelligently explores why real revolutionaries are considered so dangerous and/or crazy by North America's "Silent Majority", leading their lives of quiet desperation. Valerie Solanas unnerved even the hippest cats of her day. Canadian director Mary Harron does her homework and gets it right, ugly and tragic, yet starkly human. Truly fine work, but not for everyone.

Me, I can't wait to see Ms. Harran new film, The Notorious Bettie Page.