Unless noted, films are shown
at the Guild Theater,829 SW 9th Ave., 221-1156.
Admission is $6 for adults and $5 for students, seniors and Portland Art
Museum members.
The first movies often came with musical accompaniment. Pianists were
known to improvise, and the best were those with dramatic intuition. Appropriately,
the first film to incorporate sound and music was one that told the tale
of a musician. 1927's The Jazz Singer, starring Al Jolson, was
about the son of an Orthodox Jewish Cantor who wants to break into popular
music but must break his dad's heart to do it. Tradition!
Following its own 16-year-old tradition, the Northwest Film Center
presents its Reel Music series, which attempts to show that music is
a serious film topic rather than just a soundtrack. The series runs
through Feb. 7. Here's an overview of the first week's offerings.
--Caryn B. Brooks
Storefront Hitchcock
This intimate performance, filmed inside
a vacant storefront in New York City, is singer-songwriter Robyn Hitchcock's
gift to the future. "If you're watching this in 50 years and you're
a computer: We made you and we're sorry," he deadpans. "Our god never
apologized to us." Designed as a showcase for Hitchcock's wicked
verbal brilliance, this Jonathan Demme film uses only subtle shifts
of lighting, camera angle and background to punctuate the performance.
Hitchcock sings and plays guitar with his back to the storefront window,
and curious passersby become part of the piece as they cup their hands
to the glass and peer in. At times this distracts from the stories and
lyrics, which require close attention, but overall it captures the casual,
ironic, offbeat nature of a Hitchcock performance. (Karen E. Steen)
9:15 pm Saturday and 7:30 pm Sunday, Jan. 9-10. Shows with Elliott
Smith: Strange Parallel.
Elliott Smith: Strange Parallel
Elliott Smith is a talented and
accomplished songwriter who crafted his sound while living in Portland.
Strange Parallel is a sophomoric and annoying attempt at a documentary.
There is no parallel between Elliott Smith and this film. Smith, a young
man on the brink of superstardom with his quiet, seductive songs, is
the perfect subject for study, but the filmmakers, who suffer from self-conscious,
hipster, kick-me-I'm-cute sickness, don't come through. Interviewers
let statements from Smith such as "The music industry will probably
crush me, but I'm ready" hang with no follow-up. By the film's end,
we know nothing more about Smith than we might from reading a recent
issue of Rolling Stone. In place of insight, we get fan mocking,
journalist bashing (sorry, but it doesn't touch Dylan in Don't Look
Back) and a bizarre attempt at Beastie Boys humor with segments
about acquiring a robotic hand. What we do get, we already know: Portland's
industrial backdrop always looks awesome on film, and Smith's beautiful
music makes a stunning soundtrack for any movie, be it an Oscar-nominated
Gus Van Sant feature or a film as limp as this one. Also showing: Lucky
Three, an early collection of Elliott Smith music videos. (Caryn
B. Brooks)
9:15 pm Saturday, January 9 and 7:30 pm Sunday, January 10. Shows
with Storefront Hitchcock.
The Legend of Bop City
Filmmaker Carol Chamberland's documentary
of the post-war San Francisco jazz scene captures a significant moment
in the history of the music. This story of how a 1950s waffle shop run
by the city's first African-American used-car salesman evolved into
the West Coast's premier jazz spot is, indeed, the stuff of legend.
For 15 years the doors opened at 2 am (with sets until sunrise), and
both big-name and no-name musicians vied for a chance to prove their
chops. As one musician in the film notes, if you hadn't played at Bop
City, you weren't a jazz musician. Chamberland uses the now-standard
palette of the documentarian: archival black-and-white photos juxtaposed
with the living color of interview segments and, in this case, bebop
accompaniment. The film's merit rests on how colorful those interviews
are, and Chamberland chose her subjects well. The stories told by many
of the remaining heroes of West Coast jazz--John Handy, Billy Taylor,
Teddy Edwards, Dewey Redman, Roy Porter and Portlander Dick Berk--plot
a jazz course full of spirited competition and detail a changing black
community. (Bill Smith)
7 pm Monday, Jan. 11. Shows with Ernie Andrews: Blues for Central
Avenue.
The Decline of Western Civilization
Maybe you've been asleep
for the last 20 years and never knew this whole "punk rock" thing existed.
Penelope Spheeris' insightful documentary will ferry you back to the
birth of the late-'70s L.A. scene, where Black Flag, Fear, the Circle
Jerks and X will fill you with all the angst, acrimony and tension necessary
to understand why this oft-misunderstood genre erupted. (John Graham)
Mission Theatre, 1624 NW Glisan St. 6 and 8:30 pm, Wednesday, Jan.
13.
Lou Reed: Rock and Roll Heart
Originally shown on PBS, this fascinating
biography follows the legendary rocker from his early life at Syracuse
University through the Velvet Underground heyday to his extensive solo
career. If there's any complaint to be raised, it's that at 76 minutes
the film is too short. Interviewed guests include such luminaries as
David Bowie, John Cale, Patti Smith, Thurston Moore and Jim Carroll.
(John Graham)
7 pm Friday and 3 pm Saturday, Jan. 15-16. Shows with Johnny
Bagpipes.
Sonic Outlaws
The nexus of this documentary on copyright flaunters
is Negativland, the Bay Area noise-collage ensemble that made international
headlines when Island Records sued it over its single, U2. From
this central conflict--ownership of imagery and ideas, and how most
underground artists evade the radar of copyright lawyers--director Craig
Baldwin weaves a broad, twisted narrative net that encompasses everything
from raunchy rappers 2 Live Crew to the gender-stereotype activists
of the Barbie Liberation Front. Baldwin's kitchen-sink approach incorporates
vintage TV commercials, news broadcasts, best-forgotten B-movies and
artist interviews. This allows him to not only reflect upon the media's
role in the formation of public opinion but illustrate the motif of
"if it's broadcast, it's free game." One image shows kids playing with
Silly Putty, which serves as an apt metaphor: Watching Sonic Outlaws
is like peeling the meaning off the media's surface-level concepts,
then mangling it into whatever form one's playful brain prefers. (John
Graham)
9 pm. Friday, Jan 15.
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Willamette Week | originally
published January 6,
1998
|
