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?