Kansas City

This film appears to pay tribute to jazz legends of the 1930s (and 1990s since 90s jazz artists play the parts of the 30s ones) as well as to offer a period-specific plot. I was surprised and pleased by the interesting twists of the plot offered in conjunction with extensive jazz numbers. The set up of this film, however, seems to equate jazz with the troubled underworld experience. Although the most negative characters are white in these films, the jazz almost seems to provide a backdrop for such occurrences. The music seems to not only be a topic within the film but also to move the film along in certain places. More later....

Mo Better Blues

In Mo’ Better Blues, I thought the name ‘Bleek’ was really telling of the hope--or lack thereof--present within the jazz artist’s life; it was pretty bleak. This character appeared to have great difficulty balancing the pressures of career, time, relationship, and art, revealing the very human side of jazz. There is also a critical difference between him and other characters we’ve seen in that the trumpet is not something he himself was obsessed with; from the first scene, it is apparent that the skill was forced on him by his mother, which emasculates his talent throughout the picture, despite his sexual interactions. Not only is the sexual nature of the jazz artist called into question but the cyclical style of the jazz world is highlighted as Bleek attempts to end its hold on his and his family’s life.

Finding himself in a profession in which a man is expected to have sexual mastery, this character is full of contradictions that he himself cannot keep up with. Because he is unable to keep the two women with whom he is engaged satisfied or even separated, he seems to be played himself. He’s definitely not ‘on top’ of things! Unlike the promiscuous mastery of “Bird,” this character is unable to play the game, even saying the wrong name during sexual intercourse with both women! He appears to even be played by Clarke in several scenes. For instance, in one scene she opens her robe to his trumpet. Although the trumpet may be a phallic symbol, her action is more an invitation to jazz and its sensuality than to Bleek himself, for this woman later bites him on the lip, making him angry. Biting him on the lip may likely be representative of when a person bites a coin, placing a notch on it to mark the fact that he/she has ‘had’ it. By biting him, Clarke makes Bleek one of the many she has ‘had’ and owns him rather than being mastered herself by his masculine sexuality. She is also inviting jazz by her desire to sing with the band. In the end, unable to sustain the jazz life--which I don’t think Bleek could have done even if his lip hadn’t been injured--he winds up married and monogamous. I believe it is significant that his lip is the deciding injury from his brawl outside the club; this is the same place he was bitten by Clarke, almost like she marked his failure from the beginning.


Bleek’s marriage appears to be almost an anti-climax and is very unlike other film endings we’ve seen so far. It enables the repetition of the first scene of the movie, revealing the cyclical nature of the jazz life. The varying results of Bleek’s and his child’s practices, however--with Bleek forced to practice rather than play by his mom but Bleek being a man and overruling his wife when his child wants to play--challenges the cycle. This appears significant since the entire film seems to juxtapose the views of the insiders to jazz (Bleek, Shadow, Clarke) and the outsiders (Giant, Indigo, Bleek’s parents, Loan Sharks). In this final scene, Bleek seems to advocate outsider status for his son.

I’ve not had a chance to read our articles yet but am looking forward to finding what others have said regarding these issues as I read today.

Round Midnight

As stated in a Chicago Reader review, this film is yet another portrayal of an “emotionally disarrayed and psychologically disintegrating jazz” musician. Bankrupt and battling addiction, as usual, Dale is a fictional character cast to represent jazz musicians who received a following in Paris in the 1950’s. Despite the drug-free life of Dizzy Gillespie and others like him, it astounds me that the jazz life in this film is once again equated with drugs, addiction, and depression. Not only does the film mirror “Bird” in its style and tone, but it also reveals a paradox within jazz legends themselves.

Like Bird, this film features a non-traditional narrative style in which the facts are relayed through a series of flashbacks and flash forwards, creating a dreamy reverie. Mixed in are black and white home videos that remind the viewer that this is a memorial rather than active narrative. The surrealism of this film is really obvious as it shows several pans of the atmosphere and setting in conjunction with background music (jazz) and voice-overs by the star. These scenes contain, supposedly, the philosophies of the jazz artist that he himself may or may not understand at that point in the narrative. The music in the film is both diegetic and non-diegetic. There are numerous scenes of Dale playing jazz music (diegetic) that reveal the life and art of the jazz musician; it is interesting how the jazz music also acts as background (non-diegetic) for the expression of his thoughts.

Although a good film, Round Midnight is full of paradox--intentional paradox. Unlike the biographical films of Bird, Lady Sings the Blues, and Sweet Love Bitter, this film is the biography of a fictional jazz musician, making the choice to show drug addiction and illness as an integral part of the musician’s life the decision of the director and writers. These are not gathered from a real person’s life. I find this film interesting as a portrait of popular opinion of the jazz artist’s life. The film seems to juxtapose the masculine sexuality inherent in jazz and blackness with the helplessness of an addict who can no longer care for himself. Was this a way of subjugating the art of jazz or the blacks who played it? It certainly calls into question the ‘genius’ of the artist since he appears to lack basic life skills. I’m not advocating that jazz artists are not geniuses in their own right; I am saying that this film only lends credence to an understanding of jazz as a druggy’s venue. While drugs, addiction, and illness were indeed elements within Billie Holiday’s and Charlie Parker’s lives, why must this film of a fictional jazz musician be so morose?

The Book of Urantia - Space is the Place

Wow, um, where to begin? This film tries to bring together Egyptian mythology, a seedy nightclub, and a futuristic cosmic colony of black people all while hinting at the injustices of whites. It’s very surreal and I can’t say that I like his style of music. It’s full of discord, perhaps a statement about earth itself.

Here are several key points I noticed although I do not know what to make of this film altogether. Although whites are clearly the enemy as Sun Ra mentions in the first shots of the film as he surveys another planet for blacks, (He states that he wants to “see what they [blacks] could do with a planet all they’re own with no white people there.”), the film chooses another black man to play The Overseer, the villain of the picture. It seemed from the reactions of the black people that Sun Ra tries to save and take to his planet that the film proposes that oppression can sometimes come from within the victims themselves. In a way, I thought Sun Ra was presenting himself as Messiah, saving his people from a world that is self-destructing; however, not all blacks want to be saved. He proclaims himself to be from outer-space, a theory he upheld in real life by stating that he had been on the planet Saturn. I read several articles on Sun Ra and found that he had studied the Book of Urantia before filming this. This book is based loosely on evolution, science fiction, and the doctrine of the trinity. In it, the each member of the trinity controls certain areas of space and the galaxies within those areas. In this book, the universal father and eternal son, as two of the trinity are called, combine every now and then to form a creator son who is sent to earth as an embodiment of the god’s will. In the Book of Urantia, Jesus is named as only one of these creator sons with more to follow. I really think that Sun Ra is setting himself up as another creator son, equal with Christ; hence, he becomes the savior of the black world.

This idea pervades the entirety of the narrative although Sun Ra finds more identity in Egyptology than Christianity. The narrative begins with him on the outer planet proclaiming that it will be a place of peace for the black. Then, there is his earthly ‘ministry’ in which he defeats the Overseer (like Jesus on the cross) and saves those who are willing, including even a Hispanic woman. The ‘rapture’ of Sun Ra’s followers takes place not a moment too soon as the earth self-destructs (another Christian idea). Then, the narrative deals with alternate creation possibilities, proposing that a new planet can be started which will be inhabited by blacks only. In the Book of Urantia, there are supposedly thousands of inhabited planets, all fulfilling different variations of the religions seen on earth.

Interestingly enough, Sun Ra appears to have truly believed he had a link to Saturn (sometimes claiming he originated there and was unearthly while at other times claiming he was abducted by aliens who communicated with him). This film appears to be his ‘ministry’ to blacks, calling them out from vice toward drug-free, music-directed black power.

The problem, however, that I see with this film and its assertion of black power is its chaotic and surrealistic nature. Few would ever take this seriously and many, I’m certain, would use this film to once again see black advancement as buffoonery. From the quivering hat of Sun Ra in the first scene that he can’t quite seem to keep balanced to the very flat characterization of those in the nightclub, there just isn’t a lot of depth beyond the theoretical, even psychedelic elements common to a 70’s cult film.

Lady Sings the Blues

Wow, what can I say? Lady Sings the Blues is beautifully written but completely contrary to the biographical accounts I found online. Of course, I will have to look up more reputable sources concerning her biography and still need to finish some other reading assignments. I was amazed at the slant provided, showing Billie Holiday as the continual victim. In fact, her drug problem is even blamed on a white band member who is her pusher and the mafia enforcer, her third husband, is presented as a legitimate business man who discourages her drug use. There are so many reversals from the facts that this becomes more a political venue through which the media can stir people up. During the film, I caught myself tearing up despite the fact that I knew many of the scenes and facts were fabricated.

Considering the time this book was written and the film made, I believe this was more media propaganda that used Billie Holiday as a pawn in a bigger scheme to incite certain portions of the American society. Beautifully yet deceitfully done.

'Bird' (DOA, etc. is below this)

Well, I'm posting a little early for the March 24th posting. In light of that, I'm only commenting on 'Bird' so far and will add more later as I read the selected readings. Wow, what a film!

Structure as a Frame for the Biopic Narrative

I have to admit that the first time I watched ‘Bird’, I disliked the hodgepodge style of the flashbacks; however, toward the end of the film, it seemed that the flashbacks were symbolic of Parker’s life flashing before his eyes in his moment of death, a very effective technique. This technique was further simulated by the flashing images during his heart attack toward the close of the film. One interesting thing is that the images continue to flash even after his body has gone limp, signifying that his life was continuing through the memories his music had created. In this way, his legend extended beyond the duration of his physical body. Also intriguing is the image of the juggler on the screen who continues to garner laughs after Parker dies, revealing the temporality of spectacle itself. Although Parker’s daughter verifies in an interview I found that he was indeed laughing at a juggler when he died, this scene says so much. In a way, his life was a tragicomedy in which he was the spectacle, the juggler, who was destined to drop the ball; even in his death, however, he still never ceased to be heard.

Considering the style in which Parker’s life is related in this film, I think the director did a fine job bridging the gap between Parker’s reality and his listening audience, us. Not only do the flashbacks capture a man constantly re-evaluating his life but the ebb and flow of the narrative also promoted compassion for the man himself. The film reached a point several times that one thought Parker would die and the agony would stop; instead, the film would begin on another tangent and you would be caught up in his life again. One must wonder, did he feel the same way, wondering when the nightmare would finally end? Did he feel trapped in his own life? The endless cycle of addiction, incarceration within mental wards and hospitals, and the great number of relationships that went south must have seemed to spiral out of control for him at times. I think the film captured that trapped, spiral effect really well.

Aggrandizement of an Icon: Fact or Fiction?

I had a little trouble finding a film that we have covered already that is on the same plane with this one. So far, DOA, Cabin in the Sky, Check and Doublecheck, etc. have all been fictional narratives which do not seek to sum up a man’s life. To establish a comparison, I watched ‘Lady Sings the Blues’ again, a film that I found largely exaggerated the character of Billy Holiday, glorifying her life and hiding many of the negative things she did (or blaming them on others). Similar to ‘Lady Sings the Blues’, ‘Bird’ seems to glorify Charlie Parker in many areas. One key similarity is the fact that only the last spouse of the star is shown in the film and appears to be the only marriage partner although in reality, both Billy Holiday and Charlie Parker were married multiple times. Chan, in the film, references the many women who claim to be Mrs. Charlie Parker, but the jest is that they were one-night-stands or live-in girlfriends rather than legal unions. As I was so disappointed by ‘Lady Sings the Blues’, I started noting elements of the film that seemed to place Parker on a pedestal. I compared my list against an interview with Parker’s daughter at URL http://www.charlieparkerresidence.net/pages/kimparker_interview.html. Several items on my list included:
* Parker is shown as a fun-loving father to his children despite his drug problem and late-night occupation; I wasn’t sure that the two could co-exist. The film even makes reference to the idea that he wrote two songs for his two older children. Based on the interview with Kim Parker, Parker was indeed a fun father who tried to be there for his children. I could not find verification for the song-writing idea.
* Parker is portrayed as a patient though frustrated man who is the brunt of everyone’s negativity, especially whites. From the nurses in the hospital in the first few moments of the film to Chan and her mother, to the recording agents, to corrupt police who demand bribes, to Southern whites, to even Dizzy Gillespie who may represent in a mild form a black man turned over to white mentality, everyone appears to have nothing but negative feedback for Parker. Although there are points in the film where his playing is praised, the negativity on a personal level is overwhelming; this part of the film certainly bolstered sympathy from me. According to the interview I read, the children were distanced from any controversies --even those between Chan and Parker-- until after Pree died. I’m not sure whether everyone was really that negative toward him or if that was a technique used to garner compassion for his addiction though.
* Another way he was put on a pedestal was the way in which his character tries to ‘kick the habit’ for the sake of Red. I couldn’t find any verification of this except for the fact that Red is still living and could have helped with the filming of ‘Bird.’
* He’s betrayed by Chan in the beginning when she becomes pregnant by another man, but loves her still; however, his philandering--though present--is downplayed. Looking at biographical accounts of Parker, he was extremely promiscuous.

Overall, based on the film’s presentation of the good and bad in Parker’s life, I think that this film is much more realistic than ‘Lady Sings the Blues’. Parker’s addiction and even the tracer marks are shown along with the glorifying elements. Although he does appear as a victim of circumstance in the film, I really have to agree with that image of Charlie Parker, a man empowered through the escape of his music but who continually dealt with personal, relationship, and business failures that emasculated and threatened him. Although the heroic love he has for his wife Chan or his heroic attempt to show Red he doesn’t need drugs may have been part of his character--I couldn’t find proof of this--I think that the paradox of his life as empowered versus emasculated is the strongest link the film communicates about an addicted icon.

Interesting Elements of Jazz

Not only does the film, in my opinion, capture Charlie Parker in an effective, realistic, and moving way, but there are also interesting elements within the narrative that give insight into the world of jazz in its last days before Rock and Roll’s heyday. For instance, the play-off between Buster and Parker in Parker’s youth is a scene repeated throughout the film as one of the events that lead to Parker’s lack of confidence as a man. The play-off is truly competitive; I had never really seen one in action before.

Another element of jazz that I found was communicated well was the sensuality of the art. Parker’s eyes and body movements in relation to key women in his audience jumped off the screen as overtly sexual; the glances between patron and musician as presented by the camera angles really captured the unspoken sensuality of jazz night clubs. I thought that was exceedingly well-done in this film.

Finally, no jazz film would be complete without a reference to Jews. How interesting that Red is Jewish and opens the door for Parker to play for a Jewish wedding. I was unable to verify this so far today but I’m still looking and still reading our reading assignment.

Summation of a Masterpiece

Because I had been so misguided by ‘Lady Sings the Blues’, I had looked at biographical information on Charlie Parker prior to watching this film. I was surprised to see that this film was a much better representation of the real man -- or at least the real man as far as anyone could know him. I know that the film really opened my heart to this artist; having read that he was an addict, I had originally questioned his right to be an icon despite his talent. After seeing a human face on the story though and coming face-to-face with the treatment many deal toward addicts, I realized how much this personal failure shaped his life, his art, and how much the negativity around him likely perpetuated the addiction and health problems. In watching this film, I at once felt powerless to suggest an alternate course for him. Two scenes that haunt me--especially since I had judged him harshly based on cold, hard biographical data prior to viewing the film--are the last conversation he has with Dizzy and his conversation with Red in the bar. As Dizzy explains why it’s important to defy stereotype and not do drugs, Parker’s character replies “I can go to a doctor over here and pay $50 and feel no better. I can go to another doctor over there and pay $75 and feel no better. But I can go to a man on the corner and pay him $10 and suddenly my ulcers don’t hurt any more, my liver don’t hurt any more, and I’m at peace. That’s heaven to me.” I must admit that brought tears to my eyes. Was jazz itself an escape from pain too? In the scene with Red, Parker’s character asks Red if he expects to see 40. Red turns the question on Parker as he leaves the bar. Parker, with a ghost form of the doctor from his youth hanging over his shoulder, says “I’m different.” It is such a final statement. He has given up on himself.

Although spectacle is the glory of jazz, it almost seems in this film to point out the pain of spectacle. As Parker finds himself so ill he can’t hold a sax in this arms, he must submit himself to the crowds as a spectacle to make a living. There is no private recourse for his suffering; he is ever on-stage, a sideshow freak where his whole life is open to the dissection of the masses. I just had this eerie feeling of an animal in a cage at the zoo whose only salvation is to continue to be the savage sideshow.

DOA and The Sweet Smell of Success

‘DOA’ and ‘The ‘Sweet’ Smell of Success’ (‘Sweet’) both are excellent examples of the public’s perception of jazz in the 1940s-1950s. This was the period in which modern jazz, the ‘white’ upper-class derivative of the 1920s hot jazz of the night clubs, had taken hold of music halls. The music was not only the language of the night club but was being performed within more ‘respectable’ establishments as well. The interesting thing about these two films is the fact that they remind the viewer of the street-level beginnings of the genre. Despite the fact that jazz had become more acceptable for the viewing public, it was still associated with a particular class of people and the vices prevalent within that segment of society.

This is apparent in the films’ perception of whites and blacks in relation to jazz. Although DOA and ‘Sweet’ offer opposite views of whites in respect to the genre -- in DOA, the white protagonist, Frank Bigelow, is an outsider and spectator of the world of jazz and in ‘Sweet’, the white protagonist, Steve Dallas, is an insider and participant in that world -- the value statements are similar. Whites in both films appear to be tainted by their associations with jazz, which in turn seems to envelope them in its web of influence.

Bigelow, for example, is portrayed as a very out-of-place figure at the jazz bar. The sinister undertones and frenzy of the music during the scene give the impression that Bigelow is surrounded, caged by savagery and lewdness. It is during this scene that he receives the fatal drug that kills him. The association of the jazz scene with vice is overt as Bigelow arranges to meet an upper class woman, who behaves like a beatnik, later for non-committal entertainment. The people who have invited him to the bar are lewd, drunken, and out of control. Even the close-up shots of the musicians are presented at odd angles which exaggerate their features as they play, making the entire spectacle foreign and menacing. Even as he retreats from the suffocating environment, he is indelibly marked by that brush with jazz as the poison works through his body. Subsequent references to shady characters in the underworld of big crime seem to point back toward the jazz bar. Hence, the message is that whites are tainted by the jazz scene.

For Dallas in ‘Sweet’, there are similar connotations. As a guitar player, he is an active participant in a jazz band. Although playing itself does not result in danger, his association with the genre makes him unfit for marriage to JJ’s sister. Consider that JJ represents the white power within the country and popular opinion. The relationship between Dallas and Susan appears to suggest a type of miscegenation, intermarriage of the races which was frowned upon during this time period. Although Dallas is physically white, his occupation is reminiscent of African-Americans. He does not speak the vernacular but it is apparent that his individual decisions are limited due to his association with a jazz band, even to the point that he must secretly court Susan and kiss her behind the building in an alley. Could this film be propagating the idea that it is preferable to be a goon than be associated with a black-dominated field? In the end, of course, the girl chooses to stay with the jazz player but the ending also suggests a shaky existence for them. JJ doesn’t lose his power over the press or public opinion--only over the youth, hence the next generation. Whether JJ will continue harrassing the jazz player with allegations of drug abuse--which, as portrayed by the film’s law enforcement, seems a common malady of the genre--or whether he will continue to keep Dallas from acquiring a job is unseen. In a way, the film appears to validate the jazz player -- notice all jazz players are white though -- but it also reveals the shame still prevalent during the time period of being associated with a black profession.

Several key elements of the films include the positioning of powerful figures within the narratives. The powerful whites in both pictures are spectators of jazz: the man who poisons Bigelow and controls his every breath sits and listens at the bar and JJ is often at the club. His every command is obeyed even in the choice of musical numbers, revealing the limitations of the jazz musicians. Both films appear to juxtapose those controlled by jazz and those who control jazz. People who participate in jazz (Dallas) or fall under its spell (Bigelow) are forever entangled in its snare, resulting in heartache and vice. Those who are powerful enough to sit back and orchestrate the medium--JJ--remain untainted although they may have personal failings.

Another key to both films is the power of visual perception. In DOA, there are many instances where Bigelow appears to hallucinate. It is not framed by the fade in and fade out, but rather is suggested by the myriad of images. This is especially apparent in the bar scene where the frenzy of the music coincides with the rapidity with which the screen changes to different viewpoints. It reveals a dizzying spectacle, somewhat resembling a drug trip. In ‘Sweet’, the power of perception is used by Susan to manipulate the two most powerful and dangerous men in her life. What appears as a suicide scene to one man -- Sid Falco -- transforms into a rape scene in the eyes of JJ as he views Sid cradling the body of Susan after he ‘rescues’ her from jumping. The twisting of these perceptions by JJ in his dealings with Sid and Susan also merits attention. When reporting Sid, JJ appears convinced that it was an attempted rape, but he quickly refers to it as a suicide as he tries to keep Susan from leaving. The fallibility of perception and the numerous ways one instant can be interpreted appears to be important to the tone of the film since the jazz musician is, likewise, one person viewed through many different lenses. By the upper class whites, Dallas is viewed as a threat to Susan’s purity and place in society--a character whose involvement in drugs (although this is staged by Sid and JJ) is viewed as part of his profession. By Susan and the sentiments of the narrator/director who controls viewer perceptions, Dallas represents the small American man who attempts to stand up to big business and corrupt popular opinion. These nuances of perception are what make ‘Sweet’ a success as an indicator of the ever-shifting interpretations of blacks, jazz, and culture in the 1940s-1950s.