Spike Lee Dogs Woody Allen - Rediscovering Pauline Kael

Spike Lee's 2002 film, 25th Hour was shown on one of my cable channels a few days ago. I'm not a fan of most recent films that I've seen. Having spent so many hours viewing innovative European, Asian, and other non-American films at the Detroit Institute of Arts — its Detroit Film Theatre, part of the the fabulous '60s experience; — over the past twenty years I haven't been inclined to view films in commercial film theaters — especially not in Columbus, Ohio. The bits of Mr. Lee's other films that I have seen haven't impressed me. But let me say straight away that I don't care for movies that much anyway — like opera there are too many people involved. There are occasional surprises however. In my February 24, 2014 post I wrote:

 Watching Play It To The Bone it was hard for me to imagine that this film was made in America. It also joins the ranks of my British favorite films - Snatch, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Layer Cake. It also joins the very dark French comedy(?) Crime d‘ Amour (Love Crime) by the late Alain Corneau on my faves list.

    To this short list, I add Spike Lee's 25th Hour. First of all one has to give Mr. Lee credit for being able to get his films produced and presented at all. What follows is not a review of 25th Hour. What I'm up to in what follows is a comparison of certain aspects of Mr. Lee's 25th Hour with Mr. Woody Allen's Manhattan.

    Both films are homages to NYC: Allen's is pre-9/11, Lee's is post-9/11. Both films feature scenes shot at the East River. Both East River scenes include two people and a dog. (See below) Both are love stories centered on mistrust — mistrust of love with its attendant betrayal. Manhattan is an upper east-side fantasy with a private high school love interest of Allen's character (Isaac), restaurants: Elaine’s and Russian Tea Room. 

    The 25th Hour has an adult (teacher) and a 17 year old private high school love interest—Jacob (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and his student (Anna Paquin), a club/disco scene and Brighton Beach Russian/Ukrainian gangsters. Both films treat socio-economic privilege: in Woody Allen's Upper East-Side fantasy the street to the private high school experience is paved with parental/trust fund gold; Spike Lee's way to a private high school education is through a basketball scholarship granted to his main character, Monty, an economically disadvantaged young man, the son of a NYC fireman. There is this difference between Allen's and Lee's portrayals of sexual (and other) relationships between young women (17 year old's) and middle-aged men: in Allen's picture 'money will permit and buy one love; in Lee's picture Jacob's 17 year old student's interest in her teacher is founded on the student's desire to 'persuade' the teacher to change her grade. The teacher refuses to change the student's grade in spite fantastic desire. Allen's character, Isaac, doesn't display any moral misgivings about his relationship (sexual or otherwise) with his 17 year old mistress. 
    Allen's Isaac wants to make the grade - "How was I?" in bed sort of thing, while Lee's Mary just wants her grade changed. When asked by her teacher (Hoffman) to offer her interpretation of Andrew Marvell's poem, "To His Coy Mistress", Mary (Paquin) replies (something to the effect), "The guy was horny, and he wanted her to give it up". In Lee's world, the teacher was horny in deed, but the student wanted her teacher "to give it up", wanted a better grade.   

Manhattan (1979)

 Dog, Mary (Diane Keaton) & Isaac (Woody Allen)

25th Hour (2002)  

Monty (Edward Norton), Dog (Monty’s only friend) & Customer

In the USA love was not racially blind. Black artists who gained presence in the national media, such as Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Paul Robeson, Ethel Waters . . . , Lena Horne, and Nat King Cole, faced particular racist restrictions, most obviously in the movies, where they were never allowed to appear in romantic situations. David Schiff, The Ellington Century, p. 159

Terence Blanchard composed and conducted the music soundtrack for Spike Lee’s 25th Hour. The music is dirge-like, a lamentation for New York City and for the characters of the film — small change in The City's financial, cultural, and unethical transactions.

When I began this Woody Allen and Spike Lee Manhattan v. 25th Hour comparison I was prompted by my uneasiness with Woody Allen's New York stories, with his Anne Hall, Manhattan, Deconstructing Harry. My wife and I use to eagerly await Woody Allen's new films. And we enjoyed the afore mentioned NY stories. Upon leaving Detroit twenty years ago, and relocating to Columbus, Ohio my wife and I have been out of the movie-viewing business. There were two major reasons for our movie withdrawal: there's nothing in Columbus like the Detroit Institute of Arts' Detroit Film Theatre (DFT). When we lived in Detroit, we experienced so many great films at the DFT that we became spoiled by the (1) DFT's big screen and (2) it's director Elliot Wilhelm's adventurous programming. During our 20 year Columbus, Ohio movie drought, we've seen at most 10 films at our two 'art house theaters', Drexel and Wexner Center (Victoria's Secret).

Woody Allen's films were eagerly awaited by my wife and me. However, a friend of mine who's aesthetic judgement I trust without reservation, dismissed Woody Allen's films tout court. Liking a film or films of a Woody Allen or a Spike Lee is one thing. Criticizing films on aesthetic grounds is another thing. I enjoyed, liked, Woody Allen's films. Indeed, Allen's London, Paris and Rome films are quite awful. But I liked his NY films. But there's a trick here - I just like NY films; I love NY too!

When compared with other New York City directors - e. g., Cassavetes, Coppola, Lumet, Scorsese and Lee - there's something of interest missing from Woody Allen's films. There aren't any brown, black or beige characters in Allen's New York City films.

What about the character Cookie in Deconstructing Harry? Cookie's portrayed by a black actress, the character's black? There's also an Asian hooker in another of Allen's films. He also features big band jazz in his films' soundtracks. He plays jazz music on Monday nights.

What about that?

I know, I know! He also wears corduroys and tweed odd jackets.

I just find Woody Allen's films, his jokes, his actors, the love and death stuff past the moment, dishonest, and trite. Woody Allen operates like a real estate developer, a mall magnate - doesn't matter if the project/film is ugly and/or overbuilt/oversold or a straight-up bust, the developer/auteur gets paid first. Woody Allen could name his Rolls Royce 'First Draw'.

Not to be completed ....

Thom Pride - In Memoriam

My dear friend J. Thom Pride passed away today in William Beaumont Hospital, in Royal Oak, Michigan. Thom's first wife, Sharron; her sister, Denise; and his friend Ken Hansen were at his side when he died at 1:53PM. Thom had been my friend since the mid-1950s. Martinis and music won't be the same. Below is something that I wrote about Thom in October, 2012.

J. Thomas Pride

Something Very Hip Happened

In Highland Park

R. W. White

12 October 2012

This evening at 11:15 PM, October 12, 2012 I am thinking about Thom Pride.

Thom has leukemia. He was diagnosed with this awful, painful disease within the

last month. Because of his age–nearly 73 years old—there is little that the doctors

can do for him, except pain medication for his terrible pain that he experiences

around the clock. He cannot eat regular foods because of the intense pain that

eating brings with it. As a pre-teen, I witnessed my maternal grandparents suffer

from the intense pain that came with their cancers. Thinking about Thom’s present

painful life this evening, and feeling both his presence and the presences of Hobert

and Mamie Thomas; and considering Thom’s present pain and the past pains of my

grandparents, has disturbed me and upset my calm life—I can’t find the right music

this evening. So, I’m writing down these inadequate thoughts against the music—

it’s Bach’s Goldberg Variations playing now, previously it was Bobby Hackett with

Jackie Gleason’s Orchestra, before that it was Chopin, before Chopin it was Liszt.

Usually I cannot read while listening to music; but most often I can write while

listening to music. This evening I need music and I need to write about Thom Pride

and me. Gustav Leonhardt’s harpsichord and his Goldberg Variations sound awful

to these ears this evening. I’m afraid to try Lady Day; Billie Holiday would destroy

me I fear. Ah, let’s try James Moody—someone who Thom and I grew up with

(musically) in Highland Park—has to be hip doesn’t it?

This evening I’m thinking about my first vivid impression of Thom Pride—

T. Pride to some. The image that I keep coming back to concerns an afternoon,

lunchtime DJ program that Thom hosted in the auditorium of Highland Park High

School. (I’ve got Mr Moody’s “Flute N The Blues” with “Little” Johnny Coles nice

trumpet solo followed by “Birdland Story” with that fabulous vocal by Eddie Jefferson

helping me now.) This impression is from 1958. Thom was spinning Yusef Lateef’s

recent LP Jazz for Thinkers. During these halcyon days, days without mobile

phones, text messaging, email and associated bothers; we liked to think of ourselves

in soulful, knowing terms; we convened for weekly symposia on Fridays and Saturdays;

often these drinks parties filled with music, discussions, and lame hits on those

present—the objects of our desires—were held at my house at 124 Massachusetts.

Our Sunday evenings were often spent at Pieter Wiest’s Colorado address. These

Sunday symposia were held without drinks and without music. At Pieter’s house

on Sunday evenings we tried to get our stories of the previous Friday and Saturday

straight, going on about our lame or non-existent hits and surfeit misses with the

Misses. These were quiet beautiful times. Whether Thom was involved in all of these

weekend sets or get-togethers, I do not remember; but I feel today that his presence

was everywhere in Highland Park—he was indeed a “big man” on the HPHS campus.

After having been released from Highland Park High School (HPHS), Thom and

I ran the streets together—Twelfth Street, Hamilton Avenue, Boston and Chicago

Blvd.s; in the Chit-Chat Lounge talking to a couple of prostitutes just back from a

Baptist convention in Windsor, Ontario, Canada; staying out of sight in the Rage Bar

on Davidson when the nightly brawl was underway; trying to get next to sadity girls

on Boston and Chicago Blvd.s; attending “get-togethers” or “sets” in the company

of Percy Lyle, Floyd Bright, Frank Paritee, Ralph Cooper et al., in our three or four

button, three piece suits, button-down shirts, print ties looking like the Modern Jazz

Quartet or straight out of GQ. There were basement parties with very hip music—

rhythm and blues and Blue Note jazz (Brubeck’s Jazz Goes to College, especially

“Balcony Rock” recorded at Hill Auditorium in Ann Arbor thrilled us too).

Then there were other nights when Thom heard that something was going on at

a cousin’s crib. So we’d fall by cousin X’s. Even in our formative, post-HPHS days,

Thom knew everyone—I’ve rarely been anyplace with Thom when we didn’t run into

someone who Thom knew. There were occasions when Thom and I actually did get

next to a couple of young women. On one of these occasions Thom was paired with

Miss Y and I was paired with Miss Z, or so I believed. Thom had another idea. He

called me to inquire about a trade , his Miss X for my Miss Z. He claimed that he

had done a survey and his proposed substitution of X for Z would be best. So long

as I was next to either X or Z it didn’t matter to me. And in fact the subsequent

arrangement was quite satisfactory for me.

When we were in high school, “Frantic” Ernie Durham was our disc-jockey. Our

DJ used to call on a woman who lived in the Willard Elementary School neighbor-

hood. Ernie-D’s creep occurred at a precise time each weekday night—around 11:30

PM, I think. Our gang would sit on the overpass at Davidson and Hamilton and

wait for Ernie-D’s Cadillac convertible (I recall that D’s ride was white, similar

to “Doc” Greene’s). When “Frantic” Ernie drove by we’d shout “Frantic, Frantic,

Frantic . . . ”. Highland Park “creeps” seldom went unnoticed.

Thom Pride conferred massive displays of kindness and generosity toward me

throughout much of my life. When Maria and I were married in 1965, Thom and

Ralph Cooper gave a large reception and party for us at the Pontchartrain Hotel in

downtown Detroit. He got me a job at J. Walter Thompson. And he gave me a job

with his company, JTP and Associates when I didn’t have a job—I did produce an

ad in The New Yorker for Turnbull’s Mustard while at JTP.

I imagine that Thom’s regard for me and my fortunes were among the reasons that

my mother, Joyce Lorraine (White) Kilpatrick regarded Thom so highly. It was also

because of my mother’s high regard that Thom regarded me as his brother.

Thom showed my mother and my stepfather, James Kilpatrick, a lot of love in return.

Thom was a very good athlete, especially in tennis and golf. After I was married,

I took up tennis - I was never very good; I thought I was good because I could serve

and return serve; but before and after serve and return of serve, I couldn’t “ball”,

as they say today. Thom and I used to play on Sunday mornings at Palmer Park.

Thom would appear sometimes with a tennis-ball canister of martinis, having been

up into the early morning hours enjoying, among other things, martini-like items. I

didn’t have a chance at beating Thom at tennis.

I never played golf with Thom; I wouldn’t have dared.

. . .

As Amiri Baraka wrote of the pianist Walter Davis, Jr., I’m sure that:

Wherever [Thom] is, something very hip is happening!

Silence of the Damned

Too many things to get back to - among which . . . .

I've been working on a blog-post the title of which is Spike Lee Runs Woody Allen Down - recall "Miles Runs the Voodoo Down"? In the mean time take a look at Allen's Manhattan and Lee's 25th Hour. In order to avoid finishing the Allen-Lee piece, among other things, I listened to Phil Schaap's broadcast on Don Redman (WKCR Internet Stream), watched some basketball (Allen and Lee's Knicks nowhere to be seen); right now as I'm writing this Apology for Not Writing/Posting, I'm listening to Johnny Hodges' Hodge Podge recording, a posting on Facebook of Duke Ellington's '29 recording of "Rent Party Blues" led me to Hodges' Podge (is that Duke on piano on "Finesse"?)....

David Schiff, author of these essential works The Music of Elliott Carter, Gershwin, and The Ellington Century runs this and that music down, doesn't leave any important creators or important creations out of his accounts of the music. The musics of Carter, Ellington, Schönberg and Gershwin are continous, are best regarded side by side. When I get to Woody Allen and Spike Lee in my forthcoming blog post, I hope that we'll understand these matters.

Don't really like movies, but . . . .

I enjoyed what I saw of Choose Me (soundtrack by Luther Vandross with Teddy Pendergrass and Archie Shepp. What?) Mike Figgis' Hotel is an astonishing film. I was informed by, and totally enjoyed Iceberg Slim, the documentary about the life of author Robert Beck.

I wonder what WKCR has in store for us today at 2PM EST? Dig into it and see/listen. Ah! Charlie Christian, guitarist - transition from swing to bebop. 

"All The Things You Are" - Barry Harris

I have tended to believe (feel) that what matters doesn't matter; that the sanctity of heretofore private spaces and places have been violated; that a "space of reasons" (Wilfrid Sellars' notion) is a vanishing (vanished) point, an abstraction.

Then there's Barry Harris's music and basketball.

Private verses Public Works - On Being Marginalized

I have since the Christmas holidays spent most of my waking hours in my library. My television viewing has for the most part resided in looking in on ESPN's morning First Take program - I'd rather get my sports second hand, it's more entertaining, there are certainly individuals who can ball, but few teams who ball; and watching Martin Lawrence and Alfred Hitchcock reruns.
   Given the cable television situation with Comcast, Time-Warner, Netflix, Amazon and the rest, my mission is clear: get rid of cable and ball with my books and music. But a strange thing has happened. I've been overdosing on movies that my wife and I had collected on our cable box. Last Saturday my wife and I watched Jean-Charles Tacchella's Cousin Cousine (1975) and Claude Lelouch's A Man and A woman (1966) with the very beautiful Anouk Aimée and Jean-Louis Trintignant; after which I watched Patrice Leconte's Intimate Strangers (2004) with Sandrine Bonnaire, Fabrice Luchini, and Anne Brochet.
   This morning, on my way to watch my usual dose of back to back half hour Alfred Hitchcock segments, I discovered the Ron Shelton's truly wonderful (one-star) film Play It To The Bone (1999). The actors are Woody Harrelson, Antonio Banderas, Lolita Davidovich and Lucy Liu. This film cost $24 million to make and grossed about $3,000 the first week. The actor's are superb, the script is tight and very funny. One problem with the film was most likely its initial release. It premiered on Christmas day. Although Harrelson's character has visions of Jesus Christ - among other visions; it's not exactly everywoman's A Christmas Carol. Because it was released on Christmas day and because it's such an intelligent film, it's my personal choice to be featured with Woody Allen's Hannah and Her Sisters (pace my being down on Mr. Allen, isn't everyone?) as the Christmas Holiday doublebill. Watching Play It To The Bone it was hard for me to imagine that this film was made in America. It also joins the ranks of my British favorite films - Snatch, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Layer Cake. It also joins the very dark French comedy(?) Crime d‘ Amour by the late Alain Corneau on my faves list.
   I'm sure I'll get over not having cable tv when we cut it loose. Television, radio, roads, electrical power, public transportation, symphony orchestras, museums, health care, cities were at one time reckoned to be for the public good - so were elections. Nations have been subsumed by corporations - Washington has been paid-off big time.
   "Power to the corporation!"   

"We Almost Lost Detroit"

I watched the Gil Scott-Heron documentary that aired on TV-One yesterday. I knew his music, his poetry, and his story. Sitting in front of my 'idiot's lantern', taking in the spectacle of Gil Scott-Heron's stardom, his music, and his American life; I began to wonder about the powerlessness of an individual to shape a decent life even when one has talent, and thereby is, presumably, afforded something of a 'head-start' in life.
   I wonder what power music, poetry, art, or philosophy holds for the assumed consumers of these arts. Scott-Heron's music, poetry, and philosophy (his Art) has influenced a number of hip-hop artists. The power of hip-hop seems to be almost entirely economic for the few 'artists' who have made it. Sampling is everywhere: ours is a remote-control, MP3 culture. We flip real estate, cities, channels, tunes, nations, cultures - all sorts of stuff. Yet an artist - Gil Scott-heron was an artist - rarely has control over the byproducts of her art - not even Lady Day, Mingus, or Stockhausen.
  Sometimes it's best to stay underground and away from the Clive Davis's of the culture industry.
  The Last Poets and Kip Hanrahan, whether by choice or chance, manage to stay underground. I return to Kip Hanaran's music-collages quite often. I'm sure it's because of the heavy-weight musicians that Hanaran employs - If you want to know who they are, buy his CDs.
   "We Almost Lost Detroit" is a nuclear-power-danger protest song that Gil Scott-Heron wrote. It didn't take a nuclear power plant melt-down to loose Detroit, did it? We remain at a loss to formulate the proper questions. As a nation we are quite adept at providing answers - "crime", "terrorism", "sloth" - before asking the proper questions. "Power to the people!"
   Thanks to Walter Kim Heron.

Teddy Wilson, "Jumpin' For Joy" 10 CD set, and Do The Math

I've been working my way aurally through Teddy Wilson's magical 10CD set, entitled Jump For Joy. There are no personnel groupings provided with these discs. The trio and solo performances aren't troubling from a discographical point of view. The small groups are another matter. Admittedly the recordings that Teddy Wilson made with Billie Holiday are easy to put together in terms of personnel groupings, since we have documented recordings under Lady Day's name - these are the recordings that I blogged on about under the rubric Jam Session Aesthetic. In listening to Wilson's CD10, I re-discovered the Sarah Vaughan sides with Teddy Wilson - "Penthouse Serenade (When You're Alone)", "Don't Worry 'Bout Me", "Time After Time", and "September Song". When I write that I rediscovered the Vaughan-Wilson sides, I mean that I knew about them (in a previous life, perhaps); but I had never heard them - don't recall hearing them.
   Needless to say the early Divine One's performances are 'heavenly'. A couple of other surprises reside in the bopish arrangements of "I Want To Be Happy" and "Just One Of Those Things". I guess I'll have to examine the 65 page Teddy Wilson Discography to find out exactly who created the wonderful music captured in these 10 discs.
   I urge you again to look in on Ethan Iverson's blog Do The Math: http://dothemath.typepad.com/
 
P. S. I forgot to note that there are three amazing tracks featuring Teddy Wilson, piano; Harry James, trumpet; Red Norvo, marimba; and John Simmons, bass that knocked me out. "Ain't Misibehavin'", "Honeysuckle Rose", and "Just A Mood (Blue Mood) (Part 1 & 2)" reminded me of the Don Ellis (t) recording, New Ideas (OJC 431), with Jacki Byard (p); Al Francis (vib); Ron Carter (b); and Charlie Persip (d). I am now reminded of Arthur Blythe's recordings with marimba and percussion. I love the dark sounds in the marimba's wood.