(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 31, 2014)
Did you know that the eponymous Rolling Stones song shares the same roots with a venerable Native-American tribal hymn, that is still sung in Seminole and Muscogee churches to this day? While that’s far from the main thrust of Sterlin Harjo’s documentary, it’s but one of its surprises.
This is really two films in one. On a very personal level (similar in tone to a 2013 SIFF documentary selection, Sarah Polley’s Stories We Tell), Harjo investigates a family story concerning the disappearance of his Oklahoman Seminole grandfather in 1962.
After a perfunctory search by local authorities turned up nothing, tribal members pooled their resources and continued to look. Some members of the search party kept up spirits by singing traditional Seminole and Muscogee hymns…which inform the second level of Harjo’s film.
Through interviews with tribal members and musicologists, he traces the roots of this unique genre, connecting the dots between the hymns, African-American spirituals, Scottish and Appalachian music. The film doubles as a fascinating history lesson, as well as a moving personal journey.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 24, 2014)
Now that medical science has validated the pharmacological benefits of cannabis, it’s time to kick it up a notch (pot being the “gateway drug” and all). Turn on, tune in, drop the Prozac…and legalize psychedelics. That’s the premise of Oliver Hockenhull’s thought-provoking (if somewhat lopsided) documentary, which is a cross between Altered States and What the Bleep Do We (k)now!?. Drawing from an array of scientists, religious scholars, psychiatrists, and practitioners, Hockenhull builds a compelling case for medicinal use. Worth a look, but I have one bone to pick. Any film that tackles this subject, yet neglects to make even a passing acknowledgement of McKenna, Leary or Owsley’s significance feels incomplete.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 24, 2014)
I kept telling myself “I’m not gonna cry…it’s just a documentary about a man who has made a career out of walking around in a silly bird suit. And spreading joy to the world (*sniff*) and…and making millions of (*sniff*) little children so happy (waterworks now fully engaged). Spinney is the man who has been wearing that silly bird suit (and giving life to Oscar the Grouch as well) for over 40 years now.
There is so much sweetness and light emanating from the subject of Dave LaMattina and Chad Walker’s upbeat profile that he seems too good to be true. But even the film’s darkest Behind the Music interlude (a tragic incident when a murdered woman was discovered on his property) has a silver lining. The film left me feeling so positive that I can forgive its one rather distracting drawback: a cloying, overbearing music score.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 24, 2014)
What struck me about Jody Shapiro’s portrait of Burt’s Bees founder Burt Shavitz was not the story of how the roadside entrepreneur co-created and then ended up signing away ownership of a company now worth $900 million, but the fact that he could care less…as long as he’s got his dog and his modest farm. Perhaps it’s his philosophy, which goes like this: “It’s important to be able to separate one’s wants from one’s needs.”
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 17, 2014)
Remember the scene in Close Encounters of the Third Kind where Roy counters the government official’s spin with “You can’t fool us by agreeing with us”? Life imitates art in John Lundberg’s brain-teasing documentary. Along with screenwriter Mark Pilkington, he’s assembled a treatise suggesting the government did, in fact, “fool” UFO conspiracy theorists over the years by “agreeing” with them. And if you ask the film’s central player, ex-spook Richard C. Doty, he’s more than happy to confess that his prime directive as the Air Force’s chief liaison with the Roswell believers was two-fold: keep tabs on the higher-profile UFO buffs, whilst feeding them enough tantalizing disinformation to keep the mythology thriving. Unless…that’s what he wants us to think (hmm). That’s the conundrum that kept me hooked. Fans of The X-Files will dig this one.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 17, 2014)
Man goes in the cage. Cage goes in the arena. Preacher’s in the cage. Preacher says a prayer, the two men proceed to pound the holy crap out of each other, and the crowd goes wild. Sunday! SUNday!! SUNDAY!!! Elmer Gantry meets Beyond Thunderdome in this objective and fascinating doc directed by Daniel Junge and Bryan Storkel, which profiles several manly men of faith (MMA competitors all) who lead “fight ministries” (a growing trend). But…what about that whole “love thy neighbor” and “turn the other cheek” thing in the Bible? Well, if watching The Legend of Billy Jack taught us anything, it’s this: Do it in the name of Heaven, you can justify it in the end.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 17, 2014)
Not long ago, the MSM relegated social media to kickers about flash mobs, or grandpa’s first tweet. Then, the Arab Spring happened, precipitating the rise of the citizen journalist. Case in point: 19 year-old Ala’a Basatneh, subject of Joe Piscatella’s doc. The Damascus-born Chicagoan is a key player in the Syrian revolution, as in “key stroke”. It’s not just about Ala’a, but her compatriots in Syria, some who’ve made the ultimate sacrifice. Timely and moving.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 17, 2014)
There’s much to regard in Nancy Kate’s enlightening documentary about the complex private and public life of the iconic intellectual polymath. Kate is deft at deconstructing, then reassembling all of the “Susan Sontags” (cultural critic, activist, feminist pioneer, provocateur) into a rich portrait. Great archival footage; in my favorite clip Sontag cleans the floor with some wingnut who questions her “patriotism” for her pragmatic essay about the 9/11 attacks (we could sure use her now).
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 9, 2014)
Digby has invited me to share my memories and thoughts about the Beatles performing on the Ed Sullivan Show 50 years ago today (CBS is airing a 2 hour tribute special tonight-Paul and Ringo are doing a couple numbers!). Truth be told, that “memory” is a little fuzzy, for a couple of reasons. On February 9, 1964, I was all of 7 years old; a tad on the young side to fully grok the hormonal/cultural impact of this “screaming ‘yeah-yeah’ music” (as my dad would come to define any rock’n’roll he might overhear wafting from my room throughout my formative years).
Also, I was living in Fairbanks, Alaska. At the time, none of the local TV stations were equipped to carry live network feeds. We would get Walter Cronkite a day late (the tapes had to be shipped from Seattle via commercial jet flights). And weekly programs like Sullivan were, well, one week late. So technically I “remember” watching the Beatles 50 years ago… next Sunday.
My true “discovery” of the Beatles occurred soon after I turned 11, during the summer of 1967, when my best pal George (who was 2 years my senior) practically browbeat me into blowing a month’s worth of allowance to pick up a copy of Sgt. Pepper’s, assuring me that it would change my life. He was right. Sgt. Pepper turned out to be my gateway drug to all the music (from psychedelic and garage to metal and prog and punk and new wave and everything in between) that has become a crucial element of my life to this day.
I’ve done a few posts in the past about the Beatles on film, and figured I had covered most angles. But the funny thing about Beatles-related movies and documentaries is that, like the band’s legacy itself, it’s a gift that seems to keep on giving. Just when you think you’ve learned everything there is to know, there’s Something New (hey…that would make a cool album title). A few weeks ago, I was perusing the bins of a music and video store here in Seattle, and stumbled upon a straight-to-DVD documentary from the UK with an intriguing (if unwieldy) title called Going Underground: Paul McCartney, The Beatles and the UK counter-culture.
Focusing on a specific period of London’s underground scene, it connects the dots between the American Beats (Ginsberg, Kerouac & co.), the social, sexual and aesthetic sea change in the UK during the early to mid-60s, and analyzes its subsequent influence on the Beatles (one word: acid). As one interviewee observes, “They were probably the most avant-garde group in Britain, but also the most commercial.” Actually the Beatles don’t enter the narrative until about halfway through, but it’s still an absorbing watch.
I’ll leave you with one of my favorite Beatle songs/clips (and a perfect example of that avant-garde/commercial dichotomy). BTW this is also the song I always play for those wizards who claim that Ringo was only a so-so drummer…listen to that mother go!
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 22, 2014)
Operas weren’t the only things that Richard Wagner (1813-1883) composed. He also published some virulently anti-Semitic manifestos (later parsed and re-branded by the Goebbels propaganda machine). Yet, an historical conundrum remains: Some of his most stalwart patrons and artistic collaborators were Jews (even Wagner scratched his head over their unwavering devotion). Director Hilan Warshaw sets about trying to make sense of it all in his documentary, using a mix of historical re-enactments and interviews with biographers, Israeli classical musicians and academics. While predicated on an intriguing premise, I found the film a bit on the dry side; although at just over an hour, it isn’t pretending to go too deep. It does raise an interesting question regarding whether it’s possible to separate an artist’s creative achievements from their peccadilloes and/or politics (for a more absorbing exploration on that theme, see Ray Muller’s great 1993 documentary, The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl).
