The Screengrab : the last waltz

Screengrab's Favorite Movies About Music: Non-Fiction Edition (Part Two)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 20:30:00 GMT

Nick Schager's Favorites:

NEIL YOUNG: HEART OF GOLD (2006)

Conventional wisdom be damned, Jonathan Demme’s Neil Young: Heart of Gold is superior to his celebrated Stop Making Sense, its marriage of style and substance so subtle and affecting that it stands as a pinnacle of the concert-doc form. The focus is an August 2005 Young show at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium in support of Prairie Wind, an album written while the musician was anticipating brain aneurysm surgery, and a haunting, lingering sense of mortality hangs over the proceedings, which features a setlist divided pretty evenly between old and new material. Young is in superb shape here, whether performing on stage alone or accompanied by others (a choir, Emmylou Harris). It’s Demme’s direction, however, that elevates the endeavor to borderline-greatness, his alternation between intimate close-ups and expansive shots of the stage and theater (all beautifully handled by cinematographer Ellen Kuras) reflecting a balance between pessimistic loneliness and heartening, communal optimism that’s echoed in Young’s songs, which range from selections typical (“Old Man,” the titular track) to lesser-known (“It’s a Dream”). Refusing to chop up his footage with unnecessary edits, Demme lets the man play, to the film’s – and our – immense benefit.

THE LAST WALTZ (1978)

An elegiac lament for the end of a band and a musical era, The Last Waltz has a melancholy derived from both its subject matter and from its director, Martin Scorsese, who shot this superb concert doc during the difficult production of 1977’s New York, New York. Part funeral, part celebration, Scorsese’s depiction of The Band’s 1976 farewell show at San Francisco’s Winterland Ballroom is an all-star affair, as the Canadian outfit – led by charismatic frontman Robbie Robertson, and delivering a wide range of selections from their catalog of Americana tunes – is joined on stage by a who’s-who of titans, including Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Neil Young, Neil Diamond, Joni Mitchell, Eric Clapton and Muddy Waters. Thanks to meticulous pre-planning, Scorsese’s live footage is aesthetically dazzling, though The Last Waltz also takes detours to studio-shot musical numbers and interviews with members of The Band, who by the time of the show had begun to drift apart thanks to a combination of road weariness and drugs, and whose worn-out commentary further suggests that the film is a snapshot of a moment in time slipping away, if not already lost forever.

METALLICA: SOME KIND OF MONSTER (2004)

Depicting Metallica as a divided, dysfunctional family, Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky’s Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, about the turbulent events surrounding the writing and recording of 2003’s St. Anger, exudes real, unvarnished honesty in its portrait of a mega-band coming apart at the seams. There’s plenty of drama to fill out the 139-minute runtime, from the extracurricular artistic activities of drummer Lars Ullrich, to the alcohol-related issues of singer James Hetfield, to the group’s meetings with a therapist after bassist Jason Newsted ditches the group and the remaining three members are left to figure out what’s next – which, as it turns out, is a long, messy hiatus caused by Hetfield’s sudden decision to enter rehab. Berlinger and Sinofsky strike a suitable balance between respect for their subjects and dedication to warts-and-all authenticity, and if their doc is more rock (soap) opera than speed metal, it’s still a fascinating backstage glimpse of a supergroup attempting to manage professional success and expectations, personal demons, and interpersonal relationships strained by 20+ years of constant contact.

THE FILTH AND THE FURY (2000)

Julien Temple’s The Filth and the Fury is more than just a non-fiction biography of The Sex Pistols; it’s a striking sociological record of late-‘70s England. Temple’s aesthetic is to cut-and-paste archival footage at a breakneck pace, a strategy that’s in tune with the band’s unpolished, anarchic music and attitude as well as the era’s socio-political tumultuousness. Rarely has a documentary collage been so fierce and formally shrewd, recounting the band’s 26-month history with a dynamism that, aided by new interviews with band members (all seen in silhouettes), makes the action feel current, urgent, vital. Ostensibly Temple’s rejoinder to his own 1980 doc The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle, which told the Sex Pistols’ story from the perspective of manager Malcolm McLaren, The Filth and the Fury assumes lead provocateur Johnny Rotten’s viewpoint. It’s just as slanted a POV, to be sure, but the scruffy, skuzzy, electric energy of Temple’s direction, amplified by his sharply funny and insightful editorial juxtapositions, results in a blisteringly honest portrait.

THE DEVIL AND DANIEL JOHNSTON (2005)

The Devil and Daniel Johnston, Jeff Feurzig’s film about the troubled West Virginia singer-songwriter whose music is colored (and complicated) by mental illness, has a form modeled after that of Tarnation, its multimedia biography crafted through a combination of archival audio, video and still-photographs. The director’s clear fondness for his subject somewhat hampers his ability to fully investigate the many issues raised by Johnston’s life, most notably the question of whether Johnston’s music would be quite as celebrated were it not for the fact that Johnston is a seriously unstable individual. Still, if The Devil and Daniel Johnston doesn’t raise this relevant possibility, instead proving content to just respectfully document the man’s life and career, it benefits from having a remarkable story to tell, as Johnston’s up-and-down saga includes brushes with stardom, psychotic breakdowns, stints in psychiatric facilities, and professional conflicts. Not to mention that the musician – funny, charming, erratic, disturbed – comes across as a case study in the fine line between, if not outright intersection of, inspiration and madness.

Click Here For Part One, Three, Four, Five, Six & Seven

Contributor: Nick Schager

Set Your DVR!: November 24 - December 1, 2008

Hayden Childs — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 16:00:00 GMT

Can you believe that it's the end of November already? I've barely gotten over Halloween. But there's some great movies coming up this week, so get that record button ready.

Mon, Nov 24:

8/9 pm: The Proposition on IFC (repeat 11/25 at 12/1 am).

Tues, Nov 25

3:45/4:45 am: The Wild One on AMC. You may ask what that young man is rebelling against? At this point, the answer is: whaddaya got? Later the answer will be: belts.

8:50/9:50 am: The New World on IFC (repeat at 2:35/3:35 pm).

7/8 pm: Ride With The Devil on AMC (repeat 11/26 at 12:30/1:30 am). Among the many inversions of your expectations in Ang Lee's Civil War drama is the utter surprise when the pop singer Jewel appears and you do not feel like leaving the room immediately.

11 pm/12 am: The Last Waltz on VH1CL. Why is The Band so awesome? Marty Scorcese wants to know.

11:15 pm/12:15 am: Rio Grande on TCM.

Wed, Nov 26

Don't you have a turkey to baste? Or travel plans? TV offers no excuses to procrastinate on the day before Thanksgiving. Unfortunately.

Thurs, Nov 27

5:15/6:15 am: Solaris on IFC. Tarkovsky version, not Soderbergh.

5:30/6:30 am: Planet of the Apes on FMC (too many repeats to mention over the next four days). Starting with a documentary called "Evolution of the Apes" at 5 am on Thanksgiving Day (here in the US, I mean; apologies to our friends elsewhere who will not be stuffing their faces with bird carcass and pie today), FMC is showing nothing but Planet of the Apes movies until Sunday. Rock me, Dr. Zaius!

10:30/11:30 am: The Godfather on AMC. Family. It's what's important in life.

2:30/3:30 pm: The Godfather, Part II on AMC. You should pointedly insist that your brother (or brother-in-law) sit down to watch this with you when the bastard swipes the last piece of pumpkin pie.

9:30/10:30 pm: Beneath the Planet of The Apes on FMC (too many repeats to mention here over the next four days). A guilty pleasure for some, which is why this POTA movie gets special notice. I should mention that I had no idea that there were so many POTA movies. I remember seeing a few when I was a kid, but I didn't realize that the series went on for so long. My favorite is Under The Volcano Of The Planet Of The Apes, in which Charlton Heston plays a burnt-out diplomat drunkenly careening from chimp bar to chimp bar while his luck slowly runs out.

Fri, Nov 28

9/10 am: Picnic at Hanging Rock on IFC (repeat at 3:05/4:05 pm).

Sat, Nov 29

1/2 am: The Harder They Come on TCM. Is this the finest rude boy movie ever made? It certainly has the best soundtrack.

3:30/4:30 am: Hell on IFC. The grandfather of J-horror, this is a shockingly gory Japanese flick from 1960.

7/8 am: THRONE OF BLOOD on IFC. Sorry for shouting, but it seems appropriate to shout when mentioning Throne of Blood, the all-time best version of Macbeth on film. You've got Kurosawa & Mifune. Medieval Japan. Cobweb Castle, witches, a walking forest, and a rain of arrows. Allegedly T.S. Eliot's favorite film. Throne of Fuckin' Blood.

6/7 pm: A Boy Named Charlie Brown on FAM (repeat 11/30 at 11 am/12 pm). Pardon my language. I got carried away. Since you might have family with you over the holiday weeked, perhaps it's a good time to revisit the classics of Charles Schultz? This is the one (as you may remember) about a spelling bee. No, not Spellbound, but you're close.

8/9 pm: Snoopy Come Home on FAM (repeat 11/30 at 1/2 pm). What will that rascal Snoopy do next?

Sun, Nov 30

7/8 am: Sansho The Bailiff on IFC. Fantastic drama about justice misserved in feudal Japan. It's not Throne of Blood, but it's not too far behind.

9/10 am: Twentieth Century on TCM. Classic screwball comedy.

9:05/10:05 am: High and Low on IFC. Frequent commenter Janet says she sometimes thinks this is the best Kurosawa/Mifune movie full stop. I sometimes agree with that.

11:15 pm/12:15 am: The Wizard of Oz on TCM. No Judy Garland here. This is the silent version from 1925.

Mon, Dec 1

I got nothing. Hard enough to go back to work after the holiday weekend, anyway.

The Curse of the Rolling Stones

Scott Von Doviak — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 18:30:00 GMT

My profuse apologies for the lame Harry Potter prank. Here’s your actual Scorsese news of the day, concerning a movie that does exist: the new Rolling Stones concert film Shine a Light. Scorsese, as you may know, is no stranger to the rock and roll music. An editor on Woodstock, director of both the quintessential concert film The Last Waltz and the acclaimed Bob Dylan documentary No Direction Home, Scorsese was also an early adopter of the wall-to-wall classic rock approach to movie scoring, for better or for worse. His frequent use of Rolling Stones music, in particular “Gimme Shelter,” has become something of a running joke, with Mick Jagger noting that Shine a Light may be the first Scorsese movie that doesn’t feature the 1969 track.

“I'm not really that knowledgeable about how music is put together,” Scorsese told the San Francisco Chronicle, in an interview from the set of his upcoming adaptation of Dennis Lehane’s Shutter Island. “I love music. I wish I could write or perform music. I can't do it. I love it, and it's one of my main sources of information. I was fascinated that if Jagger would sing a line in lyrics, Keith (Richards) would respond with two notes on his guitar or a strum. I found I wanted to capture all that. I wanted to capture the look on Keith's face when he decided to respond to that lyric.”

The project may seem a tad redundant to anyone familiar with the cinematic history of the Stones. A number of concert films precede Shine a Light, and as the L.A. Times notes, most of them have been touched by controversy and even tragedy. “Most infamously, the 1970 film Gimme Shelter by the Maysles brothers documented the nightmarish scene the previous year at Altamont Speedway, where the Hells Angels were hired as security but went on a rampage. One 18-year-old concert-goer was stabbed and stomped to death. There had been other dark tinges to the film library. The Rock and Roll Circus (recorded in 1968 but not released until 1996), directed by Michael Lindsay-Hogg, turned out to be a grim time capsule as the last public performance of Stones guitarist Brian Jones. The politically ominous Sympathy for the Devil (filmed in 1968 and released in 1970) was beset by a studio fire, the arrest of Jones on drug charges and a dispute between director Jean-Luc Godard and the producer that climaxed with a fistfight at the premiere. Then there was Let's Spend the Night Together, directed by Hollywood rebel Hal Ashby, who filmed the band in 1981 at Arizona's Sun Devil Stadium and then hours later was wheeled out of the band's hotel on an ambulance gurney after slumping into a drug overdose."

You’d think the senior citizen Stones would have put all that behind them, but even Shine a Light fell victim to the Stones movie curse. No, we’re not talking about the mysterious appearance by Christina Aguilera (“I'm still not sure who that is,” says Keith Richards), but the death of Atlantic Records founder Ahmet Ertegun, who stumbled backstage and hit his head, never to recover. “I loved him,” says Richards. “But you know, what better way to go? Backstage at a Stones show? That's how I wanna go.”

The Five Most Intriguing SXSW Trailers: Documentaries

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 19:30:00 GMT

The 2008 SXSW Film Festival kicks off a week from tomorrow, and naturally the Screengrab will be your go-to source for wall-to-wall coverage. We're whetting our appetites by browsing through the trailers for the official selections and making a checklist of can't-miss screenings. Tune in tomorrow for the five most intriguing narrative films; for now, here are the documentaries that have our attention.

Crawford

In 2005, I went to Crawford, Texas for a wedding. This was at the height of "Camp Casey," the makeshift protest community that grew up around Cindy Sheehan and spent the summer heckling the vacationing president. Looking around at the nondescript one-traffic-light town in the ass-end of nowhere, I wondered why Bush would move there on purpose, when he could be spending his considerable leisure time kicking back in Kennebunkport, Maine. Apparently the townspeople of Crawford have wondered the same thing:

Super High Me

They drug test us once a week here at the Screengrab, so I wouldn't know anything about the marijuana or "pot grass" as I believe you kids call it. But apparently comedian Doug Benson knows quite a bit about it; he was named High Times magazine's Stoner of the Year in 2006, and now he's following in the footsteps of Morgan Spurlock by smoking "medical marijuana" for 30 straight days. Sounds like more fun than eating a month's worth of Egg McMuffins. Not that we'd know, of course!

Dreams With Sharp Teeth

Here at the Screengrab, you don't have to tell us that Harlan Ellison still has his edge; we found out firsthand. So we're very much looking forward to this portrait of the world-renowned author, and we're not just saying that to get on his good side! Although we are sort of wondering what Robin Williams is doing in this thing.

Not Your Typical Bigfoot Movie

Bigfoot is back, baby! The star of countless cheapo creature features and pseudo-documentaries of the 70s has been spotted in such recent fare as Strange Wilderness, The Sasquatch Dumpling Gang and The Wild Man of Navidad. This documentary from first-time director Jay Delaney follows a pair of amateur Bigfoot hunters whose cryptozoological quest provides "a source of hope and meaning that transcend the harsh realities of life in a dying steel town."

Shine a Light

Next to organized crime, rock and roll is Martin Scorsese's favorite subject – and who's to say there's no overlap between the two? An editor on Woodstock, Scorsese made one of the great rock movies of the 70s in The Last Waltz, and presided over the definitive Bob Dylan bio with No Direction Home. Now he shines his light on the Rolling Stones – although if this trailer is any indication, Marty himself is at least a co-star. Ironically enough, early word indicates this is one Scorsese movie that doesn't feature "Gimme Shelter" on the soundtrack.

Stones, Scorsese Rock the Berlin Film Festival

Phil Nugent — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 18:00:00 GMT

Martin Scorsese's movie about the Rolling Stones, Shine a Light, has opened the Berlin Film Festival, marking "the first time a major film festival has dared to open with a non-fiction movie." Scorsese has been auditioning for this job for a long time. He worked on as an editor on such earlier rock docs as Woodstock, The Medicine Ball Caravan, and Elvis on Tour long before redefining the use of rock music in narrative movies in Mean Streets (where Robert De Niro's crazy badass Johnny Boy makes a show-boating entrance gliding into a bar to the tune of "Jumpin' Jack Flash") and perfecting the concert-documentary form with the 1978 The Last Waltz. As for the Stones, this project represents something of a return to one of their old habits — linking up with a name filmmaker to perhaps capture the "definitive" Rolling Stones experience on film — that for most of the past several years has been sublimated by Pay-Per-View TV gigs. (Classic examples include Jean-Luc Godard's studio-set Sympathy for the Devil, the Maysles brothers' end-of-the-60s Gimme Shelter, and Hal Ashby's 1983 Let's Spend the Night Together, which turned out as an accidental record of why the 1980s would not be remembered as the creative high point of either the Stones' or Hal Ashby's careers. The most notable of all these films is probably Robert Frank's 1972 Cocksucker Blues, which Mick Jagger had legally suppressed, thus giving it automatic street cred.) The new movie, which reportedly brought the house down in Berlin, was filmed over the course of two days at New York City's Beacon Theater in 2006, with guest appearances by Jack White, Buddy Guy, and Christina Aguilera, by an all-star camera crew headed by Robert Richardson. (The performance footage is intercut with highlights from decades' worth of Stones interviews. Questioner: What do you do before going on stage? Keith Richards: "I wake up." Not at a couple of shows I've seen, you didn't. Hiiiiiii-oh!) In addition to giving audiences the chance to see the band perform some of its standard numbers on a big screen, the movie also gave Scorsese the chance to preserve one of his standard numbers: it opens with him having a high-pitched meltdown because nobody will give him a finalized song list, and without it, he can't be sure that he'll have one of his seventeen cameras pointed right where he wants it for the first shot.

Oprah's Favorite Things Include Watching Road House

Peter Smith — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 18:00:00 GMT

We're not so into this trend of giant DVD box sets; they tend to be padded with lots of half-baked featurettes, useless production stills, and other things you'd never pay money for if they weren't all packaged together in a pretty box with a movie you really like. But United Artists just took it to the next level with its 90th Anniversary Prestige Collection — a massive 110-disc set that features ninety films from seven decades. Oprah just named it one of her Favorite Things, which means it will sell like hotcakes. $870 hotcakes to be exact. But let's look at exactly which ninety movies are featured, shall we?

First off, the box set starts with the '40s, leaving out the opportunity to include earlier United Artist benchmarks like Broken Blossoms (1919), The Gold Rush (1925) and Stagecoach (1939).

The '40s/'50s selection, including Marty, Night of the Hunter and Some Like It Hot, is fairly solid — although Rebecca and The African Queen are among the missing.

The '60s brings a bunch of Bond films and some second-tier Billy Wilder. Good picks: The Apartment, In the Heat of the Night, Satyricon, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, Midnight Cowboy. Questionable: It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World, The Thomas Crown Affair, The Battle of Britain, I Could Go On Singing. Notable omission: The Graduate.

The '70s has some interesting stuff: Rocky, Annie Hall, The Last Waltz, Carrie, Manhattan, Last Tango in Paris and Lenny would make for a quality weekend of film-watching. But The Pink Panther Strikes Again? Equus? And how much James Bond do we really need? Missing in action: Network and Being There.

By the '80s, things are getting a bit random. Enjoy a triple feature of Heaven's Gate, WarGames and Child's Play! Or alternately, Baby Boom, Raging Bull and Road House! Top it off with the most unnecessary Bond film of them all, the Timothy Dalton vehicle The Living Daylights. No big omissions here, unless you want to count I'm Gonna Git You Sucka.

Finally we reach the '90s-'00s, a short selection featuring Bowling for Columbine, the little-seen Pieces of April, The Birdcage, Hotel Rwanda, Leaving Las Vegas, and five others. What, no Showgirls?

Overall, the set feels like a stranger's DVD collection: a few classics, a few childhood favorites, a few questionable selections they probably got for $5 at the drugstore. But it doesn't feel like the collection of a movie buff, nor does it have any particular coherence beyond the name of the studio. If an alien landed on Earth and asked me how to quickly amass an American film collection, I might advise him to get this box set. However, if you live on this planet, you can probably find a better use for your $900. Like, for example, buying forty-five copies of Network. — Gwynne Watkins

The Rep Report (October 17 - November 1)

Peter Smith — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 19:00:00 GMT

NEW YORK: Now, here's what I'm talking about: the Film Society of Lincoln Center celebrates the successful completion of the New York Film Festival by firing its guns in the air with 10 Years and Running: Recent Hong Kong Cinema (October 17 - 25). The program ranges from Wong Kar Wai's Happy Together and 2046 to a very welcome helping of action master Johnnie To, whose steady refining of his technique and stubborn reluctance to bolt for Hollywood give his recent work a last-man-standing quality. (He is represented here by the The Mission, the 1999 brothers-in-arms shoot-em-up that was of no small help to its star, Anthony Wong, in his quest to be crowned World's Coolest Actor, and the more recent Election and its companion piece, Triad Election.) The newer offerings include Triangle, a caper flick co-directed by the three Hong Kong amigos, Tsui Hark, Ringo Lam and Johnnie To, and films by the team of Andrew Lau and Alan Mak, whose Infernal Affairs is perhaps (if unjustly) best known in the U.S. as the original version of Scorsese's The Departed.

The Brooklyn Academy of Music presents its sixth annual selection of highlights from the Pordenone Silent Film Festival (October 18 - 21). The program, which plunders the vaults of the Danish studio Nordisk, includes documentary footage of the German front lines during World War I, as well as fanciful adventures involving trips to Mars, runaway meteors and the ever-present fight against the white slave trade. Film preservationist Serge Bromberg will also be on hand with yet another of his personal selections of precious silent rarities. Most screenings will feature live musical accompaniment by Donald Sosin.

Sergei Bondarchuk's adaptation of War and Peace, which is playing the Film Forum in a seven-hour cut (shown in two parts, with a separate admission for each) from October 19 through November 1, is somewhere between a great lost film and a towering curiosity. As much an example of technological competition between the Cold War powers as the space race, it was in production for seven years and cost $100,000,000 in 1968, which makes it still the most expensive movie ever made. Yet it's not just an historical oddity. Bondarchuk, who first gained celebrity as an actor (he plays Pierre in the film), was a greatly gifted director clearly drunk on the possibilities of filmmaking. There are many stunning moments and a striking, dynamic use of the camera that take the film out of the Masterpiece Theater/Merchant-Ivory category of embalmed classics; despite the impossibility of fully capturing the novel on film, it's not a negligible achievement. This was only Bondarchuk's second movie, and he never got to follow it up; after it won him an international acclaim and an Academy Award, he blew his reputation on the 1970 English-language bomb Waterloo, starring Rod Steiger as Napoleon, then came crawling back to Mother Russia, only to spend the rest of his career snarled up in the compromises and political confusion of the post-Khrushchev, pre-glasnost era. He died in 1994. To now see the one film that forms the bulk of his career is to marvel at what driven and talented people are capable of putting on the screen, and what the strain of doing it, and the desire to do it again, can sometimes do to their lives.

BOSTON: When Martin Scorsese's great concert film The Last Waltz came out in 1978, one of the most talked about moments in it was the single, unbroken shot for most of Muddy Waters' performance of "Mannish Boy." On the DVD commentary, we learned it's a wonder that Muddy got into the movie at all. Scorsese had gotten his song list mixed up and given the camera crew a break, and then when the blues legend strolled out onstage, the director, thinking that no one was recording the moment, had a fit collosal even by his standards. The reason that one sustained shot exists is that one of the star cinematographers working on the project, Laszlo Kovacs, didn't know that he was supposed to be on a break; he had taken his headset off because he had somehow grown weary of the sweet music of Martin Scorsese screaming in his ear. Kovacs died last July, and the Brattle pays tribute to the work he did in his career prime with Seventies Shooter: A Tribute To Laszlo Kovacs, running through the 25th. And since the series begins with such films as Five Easy Pieces and Easy Rider and then winds down with one of the earliest requiems for the 1960s, Shampoo, and the rough-housing, "un-P.C." cop comedy Freebie and the Bean, it doubles as a rare chance to see the counterculture rise and fall in the space of a week's worth of films.

— Phil Nugent