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.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Friday, March 7, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Cabin in the Sky
Paradox reigns supreme in ‘Cabin in the Sky.’ Whether it is between the devils and angels, God and Lucifer, men and women, religious and sinful, or the wealthy and the poor, the entire plot centers around opposites with which Joseph ‘Little Joe’ Jackson is faced. While the film attempts to present the ‘pleasures of sin for a season’ in contrast to the eternal reward of righteousness, the plot appears to be weakened by the countless flashbacks and the lack of consistency when Little Joe is welcomed onto the heavenly staircase with his wife despite his philandering. Furthermore, despite the fact that Little Joe is supposedly a round character who is supposed to be developing the plot, he appears no stronger at the resolution than he did in the beginning, suggesting a cyclic nature of man in which men cannot rise above temptation. God is viewed as a spineless pushover. Overall, I thought the plot wreaked of stereotypes and inconsistencies.
I did, however, find the juxtaposing of various female African-American stereotypes interesting. It was interesting how clear-cut the distinction was between the Mammy-figure of Petunia Jackson and the Vixen-figure of Georgia Brown. The mammy, as usual, created a home atmosphere, cooking fine food, attending the church, singing all day happily, and mothering her husband while the vixen--as usual--was self-centered, vain, and enjoyed tempting men for the fun of it. The film does not offer the viewer a vision of a larger black woman as a vixen or a thinner black woman as a mammy. It appears that the physical characteristics dictate the personality and character of the woman. I initially thought that Georgia Brown offered a deviation from this pattern with the conversion of Georgia Brown; however, this turned out to be a dream of Little Joe’s. The message behind the ‘revelation’ that this could only happen in a dream astonishes me. I wonder how much the black actors and actresses understood about the stereotypes they were portraying. Why would anyone seek to sustain such a one-sided view of themselves? Overall, this film presented much less depth of character than that presented in ‘Check & Doublecheck’ or ‘The Jazz Singer.’ It is a narrative filled with stock characters that are not very interesting except as evidence that Americans still held the mammy and vixen stereotypes as truth in 1943.
This says a lot about the American public, however, in that they appear to have believed that blacks could not be a threat to the rest of society. If these characters are so bound up with their own cares and temptations, they cannot be expected to ‘lift the race’ as we discussed last week with Dubois. The acceptance of Little Joe’s philandering and constant failures by God appears to denote that blacks cannot help but be mischievous tricksters and that even God doesn’t expect much better of the race, allowing them into heaven still. I don’t know quite what to think of this film, but I was not impressed. American film seemed to be in the stone age still in reference to its views of African Americans.
I did, however, find the juxtaposing of various female African-American stereotypes interesting. It was interesting how clear-cut the distinction was between the Mammy-figure of Petunia Jackson and the Vixen-figure of Georgia Brown. The mammy, as usual, created a home atmosphere, cooking fine food, attending the church, singing all day happily, and mothering her husband while the vixen--as usual--was self-centered, vain, and enjoyed tempting men for the fun of it. The film does not offer the viewer a vision of a larger black woman as a vixen or a thinner black woman as a mammy. It appears that the physical characteristics dictate the personality and character of the woman. I initially thought that Georgia Brown offered a deviation from this pattern with the conversion of Georgia Brown; however, this turned out to be a dream of Little Joe’s. The message behind the ‘revelation’ that this could only happen in a dream astonishes me. I wonder how much the black actors and actresses understood about the stereotypes they were portraying. Why would anyone seek to sustain such a one-sided view of themselves? Overall, this film presented much less depth of character than that presented in ‘Check & Doublecheck’ or ‘The Jazz Singer.’ It is a narrative filled with stock characters that are not very interesting except as evidence that Americans still held the mammy and vixen stereotypes as truth in 1943.
This says a lot about the American public, however, in that they appear to have believed that blacks could not be a threat to the rest of society. If these characters are so bound up with their own cares and temptations, they cannot be expected to ‘lift the race’ as we discussed last week with Dubois. The acceptance of Little Joe’s philandering and constant failures by God appears to denote that blacks cannot help but be mischievous tricksters and that even God doesn’t expect much better of the race, allowing them into heaven still. I don’t know quite what to think of this film, but I was not impressed. American film seemed to be in the stone age still in reference to its views of African Americans.
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