Song of the Day #1333
Song of the Day: Alone
Together, words and music by Arthur
Schwartz and Howard
Dietz, is featured on the Gleason production "Music
for Lovers Only," and includes another sparkling
Hackett solo. The 2016
88th Annual Academy Awards gave its "Best
Original Song" statuette to Sam
Smith and Jimmy
Napes for "Writing's
On the Wall" from the Bond flick, "SPECTRE,"
and the "Best
Original Score" went to the immortal Ennio
Morricone for "The
Hateful Eight." Meanwhile, having closed out our Film Music February yesterday,
we can now conclude our Centenary
tribute to Jackie Gleason. "And Away We Go...." Check out the
warmth of Hackett's trumpet in this track [YouTube Link], which could
only have been produced by a warm and loving Jackie Gleason. In this
cantankerous political season, I can think of nothing more triumphant than a
full-hearted embrace of the cultural contributions of The Great One, who arose
from the blisters of his childhood and even above the bluster of his most famous
characters to Leap
Up and Declare, with undiluted joy: "How Sweet It Is."
Posted by chris at 06:46 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music | Remembrance
Song of the Day #1332
Song of the Day: I
Cover the Waterfront ("Main Title"), music by Johnny
Green, lyrics by Edward
Heyman, was originally released in 1933 as a popular song, inspired
by the 1932 novel of the same title, written by Max
Miller. The book also inspired a 1933 film, which right before its
release, was re-scored to include this song. It has been recorded by so many
artists, including everybody from Billie
Holiday to Sarah
Vaughan [YouTube links]. In keeping with both our Film Score February
music tribute, which in its final three days intersects with our mini-tribute
to the
Great One, Jackie Gleason, I should mention that this song was also
featured as an instrumental, with a sweet solo by the great trumpet and cornet
player, Bobby
Hackett, on Gleason's
first album, "Music
for Lovers Only," which still holds the record for the album longest
in the Billboard Top Ten Charts (153 weeks). And so, we end our annual Film
Music February, but we're going to give one more encore to Jackie
tomorrow, thus concluding our mini-Gleason tribute. In the meanwhile, enjoy the Oscars tonight,
especially those competitive categories dealing with music! For now, just dim
the lights, and check out the Gleason
and Hackett rendition [YouTube link].
Posted by chris at 02:04 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music | Remembrance
Song of the Day #1331
Song of the Day: Requiem
for a Heavyweight ("Main Title"), composed by Laurence
Rosenthal, is the soundtrack for the film version of this boxing
drama. It was filmed initially as a 1956
installment of TV's "Playhouse 90", and Rod
Serling's teleplay won a Peabody.
But it was remade into a 1962 feature film. There are more than a few literal
"Bang! Zooms!" in this one. Mickey
Rooney and Anthony
Quinn co-star; and contrary to any intuitive thoughts you might have
had, it was Jackie
Gleason who played the role of the manager, not the heavyweight.
Quinn observed that Gleason
did things just like Frank Sinatra. One take, sometimes with
improvisational flair, and he was satisfied. Quinn needed a few more takes than
that; but either way, it contributed greatly to a film that was a much darker
movie than its small-screen counterpart.
Posted by chris at 10:11 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
The Jackie Gleason Centenary: Celebrating an American Icon
"A SONG OF THE DAY" GLEASON TRIBUTE BEGINS WITH "THE HUSTLER"
Facebook Announcement:
The first episode of the famous television series "The Honeymooners" made its
debut in prime time, and so I've waited for prime time to debut this essay in
honor of the man who gave "The Honeymooners" life: Jackie Gleason. One hundred
years ago today, Jackie Gleason was born. Since my celebration of Gleason's
Centenary intersects with my Annual Film Music February Tribute, I have decided
to post an exclusive Notablog essay (and brief musical series) on the importance
and impact of Gleason, and to highlight music cues from films in which Gleason
appeared on the culminating Oscar weekend of Film Music February.
This essay can be found in the Essay
Section of the Sciabarra "Dialectics and Liberty Site" but I am
reproducing it here as a Notablog Exclusive.
========================================================================================
Today, Friday, February 26, 2016, I begin a mini-tribute to one of the greatest
entertainers to have ever graced American culture: Jackie
Gleason. Just as I grew up listening to the music of Francis
Albert Sinatra, an artist who was the focus of my centenary
celebration in November-December 2015, so too did I grow up watching the
television shows, and films, and listening to the music produced by the man whom
Orson Welles called "The
Great One," Jackie Gleason. Gleason was a native Brooklynite, born in
my hometown one hundred years ago on this date.
Though he was a co-recipient (with Perry
Como) of the 1955 Peabody
Award for his contributions to television entertainment, his career
is notable for what he didn't get: despite five Emmy nominations, for situation
comedy ("The Honeymooners"), variety shows ("The
Jackie Gleason Show"), and general Recognition ("Best Comedian"), he
never won an Emmy. Despite three Golden Globe nominations, he never won a globe.
Despite an Oscar nomination as "Best Supporting Actor" in "The
Hustler," he never won an Oscar (though he did receive the Golden
Laurel Award for the performance). And despite having produced nearly
60 albums that charted on The Billboard 200 album chart, including
"Music
for Lovers Only"---which was the #1
album of 1953, spending 153
total weeks within the Billboard Top Ten (nearly twice the
number of weeks in the Top Ten that Michael Jackson's opus, "Thriller,"
which, with 78 weeks in the Top Ten [and 37 weeks at #1], and at 100 million
worldwide units sold, is the biggest selling album of all time)---he has never
been recognized by the National
Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences, not even with a "Hall of
Fame" induction. Indeed, Gleason practically gave birth to the genre of "mood
music" and his first ten theme albums sold over a million copies each.
It being "Film
Music February," it should be said that it was film that inspired
Gleason to produce such albums. So impressed was he by the capacity of film
scores to magnify emotions on screen, especially in romantic scenes, he once
said: "If [Clark] Gable needs
music, a guy in Brooklyn must be desperate." Let's not forget
that Gleason himself was no slouch in the melody department; he was, after all,
the composer of the themes to The
Honeymooners ("You're My One and Only Love") and "The
Jackie Gleason Show" ("Melancholy Serenade").
But his talent could have been stillborn if he did not battle his way out of
poverty and parental abuse. His mother was an alcoholic, whose first son
Clemence passed away from spinal meningitis at age 14. Determined to protect her
second son, she tied young Jackie to a chair during the day while she imbibed in
the bar downstairs. When he showed his fine skill at loosening knots, his mother
nailed the windows shut. The only solace he had was to go with his father on
weekends to see Vaudeville at Brooklyn's
Halsey Theatre, and to soak up the comic antics of Charlie
Chaplin and Buster
Keaton in the silent films of his childhood. He had decided that this
is what he wanted to be when he grew up: an entertainer. He started school too
late, because of his mother's paranoid antics; he attended Public
School 73, and John
Adams and Bushwick
High Schools, but he was never to graduate with a high school
diploma. His father abandoned the family in 1925, something for which Jackie
always blamed himself, and ten years later, his mother succumbed to
complications from alcoholism. He had to quit school, and fought loneliness,
alienation, and the ever-empty wallet, by hustling pool
halls to make money (experiences that served him well years later for
a film role that netted him an Oscar nomination).
He was alienated and depressed and he self-medicated by overeating. Indeed, he
spent his life battling the side effects of living large after living so
small---smoking too much, drinking too much, eating too much. But those binges
were not possible without the ability to earn a living. He quit school, and he
began a quest to become an entertainer. His first efforts at fame were
humiliating failures, whether attempting stand-up routines on stage or playing
bit parts in early Warner Brothers comedies . At first, he was good at stealing
the material of others, like Milton
Berle, and making it his own. But he hung out with people across
entertainment, including many jazz musicians. I suspect that it was the jazz bug
that made Gleason's comedy so infectious, for it was at its best when it was
improvisational. Lou
Walters caught his show, and gave Gleason a chance to perform in a
Broadway revue, "Hellzapoppin'."
By the late 1940s, he got his big break, landing the role of Charles A. Riley
for the first TV incarnation of "The
Life of Riley," a show for which William
Bendix was famous to the radio audience. He eventually was seen on
the DuMont
Network's "Cavalcade
of Stars." Whereas Gleason was never really a stand-up comic, he was
superior in an ensemble setting, where he played off of his co-stars with
utterly perfect timing. He was notorioius for very little rehearsing and for
hilarious ad-libbing.
Gleason's show capitalized on the great music scene in New York City; he brought
in fine musicians, and even a
Busby Berkeley-type dance troupe, the June
Taylor Dancers, whose precision choreography was always a highlight
of the show. But the show allowed him to nourish his strengths; he developed
sketch comedy routines drawn from the real-life characters of his youth: Reginald
Van Gleason III, the
Poor Soul, and Joe
the Bartender (with Frank
Fontaine playing Crazy Guggenheim) among them.
Most importantly, though, Art
Carney joined the cast of the "Cavalcade of Stars" in 1950, but his
experiences acting with Gleason went far beyond single-sketch comedy. Indeed,
the two starred together in a 1953 Studio
One production, "The
Laugh Maker," which showed audiences that Gleason's talents went
beyond the comedic. He had some serious dramatic acting chops, as they say in
the business. He portrayed the tortured comedian who sought compulsive laughs to
hide his insecurities. By 1954, CBS gave him a contract larger than any in the
history of television, offering him $100,000 a year for the next 15 years to
appear exclusively on their network. Among his first changes to the CBS line-up
were producing back-to-back filmed episodes recorded before a live audience of "Stage
Show," which offered viewers a half hour of music that embraced
everyone from Duke
Ellington to Elvis
Presley; and that was followed by a full 30-minute version of "The
Honeymooners," as a self-contained situation comedy. So identified
was he with the Every Man, with a dream of making it big that he was celebrated
as an American icon. Years later, a
life-size statue of Gleason, dressed in the bus driver uniform of Ralph
Kramden, was placed outside the Port
Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan.
Ultimately,it was the chemistry of Gleason and Carney that boosted the early
"Honeymooners" sketches within the "Cavalcade of Stars," the highest rated show
for the fledgling DuMont network. The show was subsequently sold to CBS in 1952
and, renamed "The Jackie Gleason Show." It was being watched by one third of the
nation's television viewers by 1953.
"The Honeymooners" came to dominate "The Jackie Gleason Show." Early on, with Audrey
Meadows replacing Pert
Kelton as Alice and Joyce
Randolph replacing Elaine
Stritch as Trixie, the stage was set for a spin-off that led to 39
half-hour episodes that have become known as "The Classic 39," and it was in
later years that those 39 were syndicated, permeating pop culture with a slew of
scripted and unscripted sayings that became part of the American vernacular:
"You're
a Riot, Alice, You're a regular Riot."
"One
of these days, Alice, POW, right in the kisser!"
While the episodes that preceded these were preserved in kinescopes (the
so-called "Lost
Episodes"), "The Classic 39" were filmed with an
advanced Electronicam system, as were all "Honeymooners" episodes
that followed the 39 half-hour season. And for those who have not seen the
post-39 "Lost Episodes," I recommend them highly: they were written for an
hour-long "Jackie Gleason Show" slot, and included episodes that will have you
laughing to the point of needing oxygen, and crying, for the remarkable
poignancy shown in such episodes as "The Adoption" (a 1955 episode that was remade
subsequently in 1966 as a musical version).
The Kramdens and the Nortons win a riotous trip through Europe: England, Spain,
Paris, Rome, and even behind the Iron Curtain. And by this point, Gleason was
already pioneering original musical numbers into the sketch comedy; this became
a staple of the so-called "Color
Honeymooners" when Gleason's show moved to Miami
Beach, Florida (and Sheila
McRae replaced Audrey Meadows as Alice and Jane
Kean replaced Joyce Randolph as Trixie).
Though Gleason never received in life the awards and accolades he deserved, his
ensemble players brought out the best in each other: Art
Carney, after all, won six out of the dozen Emmy nominations he
received, and of these six, four were for his work on "The Jackie Gleason Show"
and one for his stint on the Classic 39 of "The Honeymooners." Carney, of
course, went on to receive a "Best Actor" Oscar award for the 1974 film, "Harry
and Tonto." And Audrey Meadows, nominated for four Emmys during this
period, won a single statuette for her work on "The Jackie Gleason Show."
But let's grasp just who was the center of this universe. It was Gleason who was
Every Man. He gave expression to every person's natural fears, desires, dreams,
and disappointments, with comedic genius and with a simple flair for showing
poignancy and empathy. When he goes on a television competition show, in search
of "The
$99,000 Answer," and [SPOILER ALERT!] loses on his very first guess,
your laughter is covering a bit of sadness for every disappointment you've
suffered in the hopes of getting that grand payoff that will make your day, or
that will help every loved one you know. Even if he loses a "mere bag of
shells," you can't help but feel for him.
One other thing stands out, however, in "The Honeymooners." In Pictures
of Patriarchy, Batya
Weinbaum tried to place the show under the rubric of typical
patriarchy (South End Press, 1983, 119-20)).
But let's not kid ourselves: This was not the idyllic picture of the 1950s: this
wasn't "Father
Knows Best" with the family unit living behind a white picket fence,
graced by the wisdom of its Father Figure; this wasn't even "I
Love Lucy," in which Ricky
Ricardo gets to regularly remind his crazy red-headed wife Lucy that
she needs to go see a "phys-i-kee-a-trist." And even if you were expecting a
loudmouth "King of the Castle" who was always right, just how Ralph advertised
himself, what you more often understood was that Alice Kramden was the only one
playing with a full deck in this situation comedy. She was the smartest, most
rational, most practical, and most loving wife on television, loving enough to
forgive her husband the flaws of his endless foibles. [Ed: I found this essay, "Alice
Kramden: The First TV Feminist," after posting my tribute and it's
worth taking a look at!] I once co-edited a book called Feminist
Interpretations of Ayn Rand; it would not surprise me if somebody
suggested a book entitled Feminist Interpretations of "The Honeymooners"
(or, perhaps, "The Honeymooners" and Philosophy) because there are few
women in 1950s television that could have rivaled Alice Kramden as a character
both strong and loving and virtually always right. (Oh, and don't kid yourself,
some scholar out there would contribute an essay based on the Eddie
Murphy-inspired homoerotic idea, only this time filtered through the
lens of Eve
Kosofsky Sedgwick, that the real love affair here is between Ralph
Kramden and Ed Norton, since women, like Alice, are merely the mediating
presence in a triangle between men who share a "romantic" bond that is
unconsummated. Alice suggests as much on more than one occasion that the two of
them act like a married couple!)
By 1959, David
Merrick offered Gleason the chance to perform in "Take
Me Along" on Broadway. For this role, Gleason won the only major
award in his career, as Helen
Hayes handed him the Tony Award for " Best
Performance by a Leading Actor in a Musical" He began his speech
with, "I have always wanted to meet Helen Hayes, and it couldn't have been at a
better occasion." He went back to television with a show called "You're
in the Picture," which bombed and literally played for one week on
the tube. The following week, he got on television and made such fun of how bad
the show was, that he charmed the audience back to his good graces. He finished
out his season with "The Jackie Gleason Show" reimagined as a talk show.; But in
1961, despite unpleasant memories of his early years in Hollywood, he returned
to Hollywood, and received triumphant reviews for "The
Hustler," losing his Oscar to the tidal wave that was "West
Side Story." This was followed in 1962 with a Gleason-inspired story
of a mute simpleton who falls in love with a prostitute and her daughter; it
was Gene
Kelly who directed "Gigot."
And in that same year, he starred with Mickey
Rooney and Anthony
Quinn in "Requiem
for a Heavyweight," the big screen adaptation of Rod
Serling's small screen masterpiece. Quinn later lauded Gleason for
his ability to get everything right in one take; he likened his artistry to the
pure talent of Frank
Sinatra in this regard. A year later, Gleason added another film
credit to his growing filmography, and with it came the first hearing of the
"catchphrase," "How Sweet It is!," from the film "Papa's
Delicate Condition."
All was ready for his triumphant return to television, with band leader Sammy
Spear, and the sketch comedy that made him famous. In 1964, however,
Gleason decided to move the entire show to Miami Beach, Florida. CBS knew
Gleason was difficult to work with, but he was irreplaceable. On August 1, 1965,
the cast, the press, and a swinging Dixieland band boarded the Great
Gleason Express, and thousands of tourists lined the parade route to
Miami. But Gleason was dismayed that "The Honeymooners" in syndication was doing
better than his current show; so he reinvented the show, with a reboot of the
Honeymooners later dubbed "The
Color Honyemooners" with Sheila McRae and Jayne Keene taking the
roles of Alice and Trixie, respectively. He'd eventually end those episodes with
another classic sign-off, "Miami Beach Audiences are the greatest audiences in
the world!" (probably because most of their inhabitants had migrated from New
York City!)
Eventually, CBS and Gleason went their separate ways as cultural mores seemed to
change. But Gleason kept moving. He did "Smokey
and the Bandit" and its two sequels with Burt
Reynolds. He starred in "Izzy
and Moe" with his old pal Carney; opposite Laurence
Olivier in the two-man 1983 HBO special, "Mr.
Halpern and Mr. Johnson," and with Tom
Hanks in "Nothing
in Common" (1986). He suffered through the filming of that movie,
knowing that complications from colon cancer had metastasized to his liver. But
he gave the performace of his lifetime, and when he passed away on June
24, 1987, his fans seemed to have uttered, in one united voice,
"Baby, You're the Greatest." On the Centenary of his birth, he remains "The
Great One."
Referenes: In addition to drawing from online sources such as Wikipedia,
this article drew material from such video recordings as "Golden TV Classics:
The Jackie Gleason American Scene," "A&E's Biography, Jackie Gleason: The Great
One," and DVD collections of "The Honeymooners" including the "60th Anniversary
Edition of "The Honeymooners" Lost Episodes: 1951-1957," "The Honeymooners: 'The
Classic 39 Episodes' and several DVD editons of "The Color Honeymooners" and
"Honeymooners" holiday specials aired in the 1970s.
Posted by chris at 11:30 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Culture | Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Rand
Studies | Remembrance | Sexuality
Song of the Day #1330
Song of the Day: The
Hustler ("Main Theme [Stop and Go]" and Various) [YouTube link], is a
masterful soundtrack composed by Kenyon
Hopkins in the kind of superb jazz
idiom for which he is known. The main theme begins with the
unmistakable sounds of jazz alto saxophonist Phil Woods. I can think of no
better way to kick off a few days in celebration of the Jackie
Gleason Centenary, than to start with the
claustrophobic black and white 1961 film that netted him Academy
Award and Golden Globe nominations as "Best
Supporting Actor," in his role as the great pool player, Minnesota
Fats (though
there are questions about the authenticity of the story of Minnesota Fats).
Authentic or not, there are no stunt doubles for Gleason: He plays pool
authentically from beginning to end. As my Centenary tribute essay indicates,
Gleason hung out in pool halls from the time he was a young teenager. Now, in
some instances, there was a stunt double used for Paul
Newman, who plays Fast
Eddie Felson, who salivates at the prospect of competing against
Fats. Newman earned an Oscar nomination too, but he's probably the only Oscar
winner who received an Oscar for the same role in a sequel, entitled "The
Color of Money" a 1986 film in which he co-starred with Tom
Cruise (though I've always believed that the Academy awarded Newman
the gold because the membership knew that he really deserved it for his
shattering performance of a lifetime in "The
Verdict"). Nevertheless, I'm going to echo the Gleasonian phrase
here: "How Sweet it Is" with a twist; for in this movie, the tension makes you
wonder "How Sweaty It Is" in the pool hall. ("How Sweet It Is" is the Welcoming
Traffic Sign that graces the Brooklyn exit off the Verrazano
Bridge; that's how much this man is celebrated as Brooklyn's son!)
Newman's tension rises because his respect and awe rise as he watches the
artistry of his competitor. He marvels at the way Fats plays with cool
confidence, with the grace of an Astaire and
the grit of a Cagney.
Though I highlight the Main Theme here, I've taken the liberty to add two other
tracks from the score, illustrating Hopkins's terrific jazz sensibility. On the
first additional track, you
have entered the pool hall [YouTube link]; it sounds like a
smoke-filled room, with immaculate pool tables, and the grit of a jazz score in
the background just to keep the atmosphere a little naughty. And finally, the
second additional track is the Suite [YouTube
link], featuring some of the finest jazz players of the era, or any era,
including Woods and trumpeter Doc
Severinsen. In any event, take a look at this
scene [YouTube link] in which Gleason doesn't just embody Fats
because of the simple weight parallel. He becomes Fats, moving "like a
dancer" and using a cue stick "like he's playing the violin," as Newman's Felson
tells us.
Posted by chris at 08:48 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music | Remembrance
Song of the Day #1329
Song of the Day: Madame
X ("Main Title") [YouTube link] features music composed and adapted
by Frank
Skinner, who draws directly from the "Swedish
Rhapsody" of the Austrian composer and conductor Willy
Mattes (aka Charles Wildman). Sometimes referred to as the "Love
Theme from Madame X," it has been covered in a variety of styles, including a
jazz-influenced version by Sammy
Kaye [YouTube link] and in a semi-classical mode by pianist George
Greeley (born Georgio Guariglia, the Italian-American pianist,
conductor, composer, and arranger), with the Warner Bros. Studio Orchestra for
the album "The
World's Ten Greatest Popular Piano Concertos." Skinner adapted the
theme through a variety of cues, textures, and emotions, including those that
are a pure expression of the "Depths
of Despair" [YouTube link]. And despair pervades the story of this 1966
film, which stars John
Forsythe and Lana
Turner as "Madame X." The 1908
stage play by French playwright Alexandre
Bisson upon which this film was based has spawned about a dozen other
adaptations from the silent era to today. Skinner, who brought us themes for "The
Wolf Man" and "Son
of Frankenstein," was able to swing effortlessly from horror monsters
to horror romances [YouTube links]. And with scores composed for this film, and
more than 200 others, including such Douglas
Sirk-directed classics of the genre such as "All
That Heaven Allows" and "Imitation
of Life," Skinner received
only five Oscar nominations in his lifetime, the gold statuette eluding his
grasp.
Posted by chris at 01:31 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1328
Song of the Day: Back
Street ("Love Theme") [YouTube link], was composed by Frank
Skinner, whose music I highight for the next two days. I have
visited Skinner's
music before; it is familiar to horror fans the world over for many
of those great Universal
monster films, from "The
Wolf Man" to "Abbott
and Costello Meet Frankenstein." But he was also known for writing
some of the lushest scores to some of Hollywood's famous romantic melodramas
(and perhaps there are dialectical relationships between horror and romance that
need to be investigated!). The lovely theme here was written for the 1961
film (based on the Fannie
Hurst novel) starring Susan
Hayward, and co-starring John
Gavin and Vera
Miles, who, just one year before this film, co-starred in Hitchcock's "Psycho."
Posted by chris at 06:00 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1327
Song of the Day: The
Fugitive ("Stairway Chase") [YouTube link], music by James
Newton Howard, is one of those truly frenetic chase scenes captured
perfectly in the way it is both edited and scored.This is a fine 1993
film reboot of the
absolutely magnificent original 1960s television series, which
starred David
Janssen as Dr.
Richard Kimble, who brilliantly portrayed the painful loneliness,
fear, and alienation of the innocent man on the run. For the series, composer Pete
Rugolo created one of the most expressive scores, always infused with
a jazz idiom, to have ever graced a television show. Howard is
certainly up to the task, and someday, I'm going to reveal a few cues from the
film that are homages to Rugolo's
scoring. Whereas a multiyear television series provides us with an
opportunity to truly develop its characters, the film provides us with a complex
puzzle that must be solved if the fugitive is to find justice. All of this takes
place amid a predatory chase between the hunter, portrayed by Tommy
Lee Jones,who won an Oscar for Best
Supporting Actor, as Lieutenant Sam Gerard (in the TV series, the
character was played by Barry
Morse and was named Philip Gerard, and the
name change remains a mystery) and the hunted, well played by Harrison
Ford, who maintains his innocence, despite being found guilty for
killing his wife, and sentenced to execution by lethal injection. But, like the
series, Kimble escapes and goes on a quest to find the one-armed man who
murdered his wife. In the film, his search for this one-armed man takes place
within the context of a larger conspiracy. I've chosen a cue that is used in a
scene in which the unjustly convicted fugitive takes his chances by seeking out
one potential suspect behind prison walls. Lietenant Gerard is hot on Kimble's
trail and finds him at the prison. What results is a scorching chase scene,
neither on motorcycles nor cars, but on foot, down a spiral staircase, through
to the exit doors of the prison, with Gerard shooting to kill. It makes for
rousing adventure and give us a lesson in how terrific Oscar-nominated
scoring augments the excitement on screen (Howard was a casualty of
another shattering John
Williams score, the Oscar-winning "Schindler's
List" soundtrack, which got a little help from the virtuoso
violinist Itzhak
Perlman; Williams,
ironically, has only five Oscars, out of an amazing 50 nominations, second
only to Walt Disney [pdf link]!). For a little entertainment, check
out a YouTube video on the "Top
Ten Movie Fugitives."
Posted by chris at 11:53 AM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1326
Song of the Day: The
Great Escape ("The Chase") [YouTube link], composed by Elmer
Bernstein, is just a snippet of the music that captures an heroic and
thrillingly suspenseful scene from this superb
1963 World War II epic, directed by John
Sturges with an all-star cast. Bernstein captures
the suspense perfectly as we watch Steve
McQueen (who plays "Hilts," the so-called "Cooler King"), an escapee
from a German POW camp, hijack a German motorcycle in an attempt to make it to
freedom. We use the word "iconic" a lot, but it's unavoidable: this is one
iconic scene and among the most memorable moments in cinema history. McQueen did
virtually all the driving himself, except for the final jump. Check out the full
scene (edited) on YouTube.
Posted by chris at 01:53 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1325
Song of the Day: The
Thing from Another World ("Main Title") [YouTube link], composed by Dimitri
Tiomkin, opens this chilling
1951 sci-fi/horror film. There have been remakes [YouTube
link], but there is just nothing like the original. In truth, I first saw this
film at the Sommer
Highway Theatre in Brooklyn, New York, which, sadly, no
longer exists. Today, it's a Walgreen's. When I was 5 years old, I
went with my Uncle
Sam and my sister Elizabeth to
see this film in a double feature with the 1933 classic film, "King
Kong." I'd never seen either film; it was just prior to their endless
appearances on classic TV movie shows like Channel 2's (WCBS) "The
Late, Late, Late Show," or, perhaps, Channel 7's (WABC) "The
4:30 Movie," or Channel 9's (WOR) "Million
Dollar Movie" or, Channel 11's (WPIX) "Chiller
Theatre." In any event, I attempted to see "King
Kong" but "The
Thing" was the first feature; then came Intermission (where, maybe,
they'd show a cartoon or two). The theater was dark suddenly, and Kong was
finally going to begin, but the crowd of kids was chanting with a single voice,
rising in decibels with each passing second: "KONG! KONG! KONG! KONG!" Well, I
didn't know what to expect when that curtain rose. And my uncle and sister
definitely sensed that this 5-year old was getting a bit panicked. "Are you
okay?," they asked. "Well," I explained, "it's a little noisy." I would not
allow my apprehension to rise up to visible fear and I would not admit it to
anybody, brave young 5-year old tough Brooklynite that I was. "Very loud," I
said. "Well, maybe we should come back and see this some other time. It's okay,"
they both assured me. Relieved, to say the least, I said, "Okay. Sounds good."
And we headed for the exits. So, though I later got to see the original Kong on
the big screen, it was not to be on this day; but "The
Thing" [full-length feature film link] was great '50s sci-fi, and Tiomkin's
music provided just the right amount of rising tension throughout the
film.
Posted by chris at 12:13 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music | Remembrance
Song of the Day #1324
Song of the Day: Jurassic
World ("As the Jurassic World Turns") [YouTube link], is composed by Michael
Giacchino, as a theme that evolves, almost organically, out of the
original "Jurassic Park"
theme, composed by John
Williams. It is a terrific musical homage, while standing on its own,
and if you're wondering: Yes, I utterly loved the 2015
film, which clearly picked up every clue and cue of the original
franchise to provide us with thrilling entertainment, eye-popping
special effects, and a really exciting adventure story. The great power of film
is that it can move us deeply, emotionally and intellectually, and it can
entertain us, and there need be no dichotomy between the two. In this case,
however, let's face it: it's time to get out the popcorn and enjoy yourself.
You'll find yourself rooting for Blue
the Raptor and the T-Rex
in their battle against the Indominous Rex [YouTube link, with
SPOILER ALERT]. I especially like the way that Blue strategically jumps from the
T-Rex to the Indominous Rex during the fight to the finish!
Posted by chris at 02:32 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1323
Song of the Day: Sophie's
Choice ("Love Theme") [YouTube link], composed by Marvin
Hamlisch, is a soft, loving theme that cushions the blow of an
utterly devastating film. I only saw this film about a year ago, and was deeply
affected by the horrors it depicts during the years of the Nazi
holocaust. Without referring to the "choice" that Sophie must make in
the film, I can say that it reminded me of Ayn
Rand's novel, We
the Living, which depicts the horrors of Soviet
communism, in one important sense: the insanity of totalitarian
political systems that allow no choices except among forms of death and decay.
It is all the more fitting to remember that nightmare on this day, which is a "day
of remembrance" for those who were the subject of Executive
Order 9066, signed by Franklin
D. Roosevelt, allowing the deportation of Japanese Americans to
internment camps within the United States during World War II. Ironically, it
was film that first made me aware of those camps, when I first saw "Hell
to Eternity," as a child, a 1960 movie with Jeffrey
Hunter (who played Christ in the 1961 film, "King
of Kings") and David
Janssen (who was "The
Fugitive" in that remarkable television series of the 1960s). Those
camps certainly were not extermination camps, but they are a symbol of what
happens during wartime, when individual rights are abrogated both at home and
abroad. In any event, the
1982 film gave Meryl
Streep a much-deserved Oscar award for Best
Actress, and Hamlisch received
a much-deserved nomination for Best
Original Score, losing out to the iconic John
Williams score for "E.T.:
The Extra-Terrestrial." It is difficult to find a moment of joy or
laughter in films of this nature, but I will never forget Sophie's admiration of
Stingo's seersucker
jacket [YouTube link]. The film's house was situated in Brooklyn, New
York, and it stands still on Rugby
Road in Flatbush.
Posted by chris at 04:39 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Foreign
Policy | Music | Politics
(Theory, History, Now) | Rand
Studies | Remembrance
Song of the Day #1322
Song of the Day: The
Thief of Baghdad ("Suite") [YouTube link] captures some of the
textures of Miklos
Rozsa's soundtrack to this 1940
fantasy film with Sabu. Rozsa's
compositions for film and the concert stage remain among the finest
symphonic work of any twentieth-century composer. It has been said that Rozsa
went through five
distinct periods in his illustrious scoring career: what he
characterized as the "oriental" or "exotic" period (featuring work on fantasy
films with exotic locations, of which "The Thief of Baghdad" is one of the best
examples); the "psychological" period (exploring complex psychological
portraits, e.g., his Oscar-winning score for Hitchcock's
film, "Spellbound");
the film noir period (with films such as "Double
Indemnity" and his Oscar-winning score to "A
Double Life"); the Historico-Biblical period (of which "Ben-Hur"
yesterday is his crowning achievement); and his sci-fi phase (which includes
films such as "Time
After Time"). This particular suite shows the breadth of his first
period, and the lovely violin interlude gives us just a hint of what he provides
for the concert hall). The charming British technicolor film was a spectacle for
special effects in its day, marking the first major use of film bluescreening.
Produced by Alexander
Korda, it won Oscars for Cinematography, Art
Direction, Special
Effects, and Rozsa's soundtrack was nominated for Best
Original Score.
Posted by chris at 02:51 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1321
Song of the Day: Ben-Hur
("Gratus' Entry To Jerusalem") [YouTube link] is a dark, imperial
march composed by Miklos
Rozsa that begins immediately after "Salute
for Gratus" (included here as well) on a 5-disc
edition of the score to my favorite film of all time: "Ben-Hur",
the Best Picture of 1959, which set a winning record of 11 Oscars that has been
tied, but never beaten. In a sprawling
Oscar-winning soundtrack filled with grand and diverse themes, Rozsa
provides a wide range of emotions, which capture the "soul" of this remarkable
film. It is not without significance that the film has been called the first
modern "intimate"
epic, one that could stage grand-scale naval battles and real chariot
races of widescreen scope without the help or need for CGI,
while at the same time exploring the essential depth of its main characters and
the intimacy and complexity of their relationships. Much of the credit goes to
Oscar-winning director William
Wyler, and the performances he elicited from his actors (two of whom
brought home Oscar gold: Charlton
Heston for "Best Actor" and Hugh
Griffith for "Best Supporting Actor"). Rozsa's piece captures the
coercive imposition of ancient Roman will on Judea, the oppressive character of
imperial occupation on a section of the world that, till this day, remains in
turmoil. In any event, it is in keeping with my annual practice of featuring something from "Ben-Hur" on the
occasion of my
birthday, which always coincides with Film
Music February. So I've chosen this muscular piece from Rozsa's
greatest, most triumphant symphonic film score, perhaps one of the
greatest scores in cinema history.
Posted by chris at 12:01 AM | Permalink |
Posted to Blog
/ Personal Business | Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1320
Song of the Day: The
Man in the Iron Mask ("Opening"; "A Boy") [TCM clip], composed by Lud
Gluskin and Lucien
Morawek, received an
Oscar nomination for their score to the 1939
film loosely based on the last section of The
Vicomte of Bragalonne: Ten Years Later, the third and final section
of the third and final book of the "d'Artagnan
Romances" (following : "The
Three Musketeers" and "Twenty Years Later"). Even the story by Dumas
is based on French legend, but this
film is notable for several milestones: it was the first film to
introduce us to actor Peter
Cushing; it was directed by the great James
Whale; and it stars Louis
Hayward in a remarkable double role. Born to Louis XIII, the first
son is seen as the legitimate heir of France, but a twin is born (Philippe) and
the king is persuaded to send the second son to Gascony, to be raised by
d'Artagnan (in this film, portrayed by Warren
William). The first son grows up to be the hated monarch Louis XIV,
imposing oppressive taxes and repressing the people of France. Through a series
of dramatic twists, it is discovered that there is a twin, who is much more kind
and compassionate, and Louis XIV imprisons him, placing an Iron Mask on his
brother's face, so that no one shall ever discover his twin, hoping his brother
will simply strangle as his beard crowds out the oxygen within the mask. The
Three Musketeers and d'Artagnan come to the rescue, and when Philippe assumes
the throne to right the wrongs of his brother, Louis XIV, he enunciates
something about the
laws of justice and retribution, something from which my mother
always used to quote, any time news of some criminality, especially political criminality,
hit the headlines: "There is one law in life, brother, that not even a king
could escape: The law of retribution. The pendulum of the clock of life swings
so far in one direction, then very surely swings back. The pendulum is swinging
for you, brother," not so much for the injustices suffered by Philippe, but for
all the injustices suffered by the people of France whose sacred trust the King
had violated. This Philippe says before the Museketeers put the mask on the
corrupt king. Mom didn't realize that she was providing a budding libertarian
with a few maxims about the fight against tyranny! Mom is gone over twenty
years, but her birthday is on February 20th, so I'm giving her a little tip of
the Yankee cap (she was a Yankees fan, after all) a few days early.
Posted by chris at 12:15 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music | Politics
(Theory, History, Now)
Song of the Day #1319
Song of the Day: The
Three Musketeers ("Themes") [TCM Trailer], music by Herbert
Stothart (with some inspiration from the themes of Tchaikovsky),
provides the rousing backdrop for what I believe is the best
version of the Alexandre
Dumas tale, starring Gene
Kelly as d'Artagnan!
Yes, the song and dance man had more than a few tricks up his sleeve when it
came to choreographed sword play (indeed, the film's outstanding choreographed
sword sequences have inspired a generation of contributors to the genre). The 1948
swashbuckling Technicolor film is just wonderful, action-packed
entertainment with a score to match (and
apparently almost impossible to find!). On the other hand, the
Grammy Awards are easy to find on the dial. Enjoy!
Posted by chris at 04:12 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1318
Song of the Day: The
Godfather ("I Have But One Heart") is a 1945 popular song, adapted
from an 1893 Neapolitan theme "O
Marenariello" (here,
sung by Andrea Bocelli) with words by Gennaro Ottaviano and music by Salvatore
Gambardella. The adapted English-language version features music
by Johnny Farrow and lyrics
by Marty Symes and was Vic
Damone's debut single [YouTube
link], rising to #7 on the Billboard chart.
In 1972, in the film version of Mario
Puzo's novel "The
Godfather," it was given new life when it was sung by the character, Johnny
Fontane (portrayed by Al
Martino) [YouTube links to Martino's renditions in
the film and on
the soundtrack], at the wedding of Connie
Corleone (portrayed by Talia
Shire), daughter of Don
Vito Corleone (portrayed by the Golden
Globe-winning, Oscar-winning
Best Actor Marlon
Brando). A long-time family friend, long-assisted by the Don at
crucial points in his career, Fontane asks the Don if he could help get him a
role in a film for which, he believes, he would be pertectly cast, but the
producer Jack
Woltz (played by John
Marley), despises Fontane and won't give him the part. The Corleones
approach Woltz, offering various deals and favors, but Woltz won't budge on this
issue. . . until he's given an offer he can't refuse. But Valentine's
Day is not the Day to be speaking of SPOILER
ALERTS [YouTube link at your own risk!]; it is to be speaking of that
"One Heart" you have for your Valentine. Pulling a song from "The
Godfather" songbook today gives us an opportunity to note the passing
of Abe
Vigoda, who portrayed the character Salvatore
Tessio in the first film of Francis
Ford Coppola's gangster epic. So wipe that film's imagery from your
Head, and think of Hearts instead!
Posted by chris at 03:35 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1317
Song of the Day: Stowaway
("Goodnight My Love"), music by Mack
Gordon, lyrics by Harry
Revel, is a
truly memorable song, performed by both the young Shirley
Temple [YouTube link] and Alice
Faye [YouTube link] from this
20th Century Fox 1936 film. Temple also
sang it as
part of a medley in the 1938 film, "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm." The
song also got the royal treatment by two of the greatest vocalists in the jazz
pantheon: the 1936 classic recording with
Ella Fitzgerald and the Benny Goodman Orchestra (the 80th anniversary
of its recording will be marked on November 5, 2016) and Sarah
Vaughan.
Posted by chris at 09:58 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1316
Song of the Day: High
Society ("Well, Did You Evah?"), written by Cole
Porter for the soundtrack to
the 1956
film, but originally written for the 1939 Broadway musical, "DuBarry
Was a Lady," which starred Bert
Lahr, Betty
Grable, and Ethel
Merman. Gene
Kelly, Red
Skelton, and Lucille
Ball starred in a film
version later that year that dispensed with much of Porter's score.
But those songs enjoyed a resurrection in "High Society." This particular song
is a witty duet in the 1956
musical comedy, featuring Bing
Crosby and Frank Sinatra at their best; their ad libs kept the song
fresh, playfully referring to their generational and intergenerational appeal
with a series of "wink-winks" to its audience. Going full circle, we conclude our
mini-Bing tribute within our ongoing film
music February. Check out two
pros who had an innate ability to charm the camera [YouTube link].
Posted by chris at 06:06 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1315
Song of the Day: Going
My Way ("Title Song"), music by Jimmy
Van Heusen, lyrics by Johnny
Burke, was sung by Bing
Crosby, Rise Stevens, and the Robert Mitchell Boys Choir (one of
several songs Crosby sang
in this 1944
film, which won a Best Song Oscar, for "Swinging
on a Star"). Overall, the fillm was nominated for ten Oscars, and was
among the only films to nominate an actor, Barry
Fitzgerald, for "Best
Actor" and "Best
Supporting Actor" for the same role, from the same film, in the same
year. As it turned out Bing got the Best Actor Oscar, and Barry got the
Supporting Actor Oscar (and, in 1945, Bing received another "Best Actor"
nomination for the same character, Father Chuck O'Malley, for the film, "The
Bells of St. Mary's"). Sounds like the makings of a Jeopardy "answer"
... Check out the title track here.
Posted by chris at 06:23 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1314
Song of the Day: Here
Comes the Waves ("Ac-Cent-TchuAte the Positive"), music by Harold
Arlen, lyrics by Johnny
Mercer, was written in 1944 and heard
on the radio documentary, "Pop
Chronicles." It was later featured in the 1944 film, "Here
Comes the Waves," in a rendition by Bing
Crosby and the Andrews Sisters [YouTube link].
Posted by chris at 09:39 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1313
Song of the Day: High
Society ("Now You Has Jazz"), written by Cole
Porter for this 1956
film, which was a musical
version of the "The
Philadelphia Story" (1939 play), subsequently made into a 1940
romantic comedy with Cary
Grant, Katharine
Hepburn (who starred in the Broadway
play), and James
Stewart. The musical has an all-star cast as well: Bing
Crosby, Frank
Sinatra, Grace
Kelly, and Louis
Armstrong as himself. Check out this wonderful scene, with
Pops offering his "definition" of jazz, by just blowing that great horn, playing
and interplaying with Crosby at his best [YouTube link]. For the next
few days, we're turning a little attention to Crosby, who contributed so much
music to the film score soundtrack of our lives.
Posted by chris at 05:58 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1312
Song of the Day: Earthquake
("Main Title"), [YouTube link], composed by John
Williams, is the classic "disaster film theme" when the genre was hot
(as was this
film in 1974). For a composer who has mastered virtually every genre,
we celebrate his 84th birthday.
Posted by chris at 10:08 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1311
Song of the Day: The
Monuments Men ("Opening Titles") [YouTube link]. composed by Alexandre
Desplat, takes its inspiration from some of those great war films of
the 1950s and 1960s. The film is an astonishing tribute to those who recovered
and preserved the art looted by the Nazis during World War II. Check it out on YouTube.
The big monument today, however, has little to do with such grand history; it is
the Trophy that went to the Denver
Broncos and their quarterback
Peyton Manning, who won Super
Bowl 50.
Posted by chris at 10:39 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1310
Song of the Day: Paris
Holiday ("Nothing in Common") features the music of Jimmy
Van Heusen and Sammy
Cahn, and, by the title, one would think of it as something that
could have been a product of one of those Hope-Crosby
"Road To . . . " films. And, indeed, it was recorded and released by
United Artists as a
single by the pair [YouTube link] in February 1958, the same month as
this film's release, and with obvious links to the film in its marketing. But
this wasn't a "Road To" film and Crosby never appeared in it; the original duet
was filmed for the movie by Bob
Hope and Martha Hyer but was cut from the final edit. The song was
also released in 1958 in a pumped-up Billy May arrangement by Frank
Sinatra and Keely Smith [YouTube link]. So here we have a song from
the movies that wasn't in the movies.
Posted by chris at 01:36 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1309
Song of the Day: Hole
in the Head ("High Hopes"), music by Jimmy
Van Heusen, lyrics by Sammy
Cahn, became a hit for one of the stars of this 1959
Frank Capra comedy, Frank
Sinatra, a singer who took up quite a bit of cyber-ink by this writer
at the close of 2015. The film's score was written by Nelson
Riddle, but it was Miklos
Rozsa who took home the Score Gold in 1959. Nevertheless, it was Jimmy
and Sammy who walked away with the Oscar for Best
Original Song for this hit record. It was one of the few Oscars "Ben-Hur"
didn't win that year, having walked away with 11 statuettes that till this day
remains a record, tied twice thereafter, but never beaten. The song was later
adapted with
substitute lyrics in Sinatra's campaign for JFK. Check out the
original, the
song as heard and seen in the film, and the
campaign rendition.
Posted by chris at 03:08 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Culture | Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music | Politics
(Theory, History, Now)
Song of the Day #1308
Song of the Day: Guess
Who's Coming To Dinner ("The Glory of Love"), with words and music
by Billy
Hill, was recorded in May 1936, becoming a #1 pop hit by the
great clarinetist Benny Goodman and his Orchestra, featuring Helen Ward on
vocals [YouTube link; and check out this
sweet clip of BG with Ella and Peggy Lee doing the song). Ironically,
given the subject matter of our film choice today, it's worth noting that the King
of Swing was one of the most heroic musicians of his era, "swinging"
a bat at the notion of segregation in jazz, and in music, working with Fletcher
Henderson, who wrote wonderful arrangements for BG's big band, and
forming an original trio and quartet, which featured two African-Americans,
respectively, pianist Teddy
Wilson and vibes player Lionel
Hampton (and later, the trailblazing guitarist Charlie
Christian, who was a featured player in Goodman's Sextet and Big
Band). On tour, Goodman refused
to play in "Jim Crow" Southern states that required the exclusion of his black
musicians. Years later, in 1951, the
Five Keys took the song to #1 on the R&B chart [YouTube link]. And it
has been recorded by countless artists since, making its way into many films as
well, from the 1988 tearjerker, "Beaches"
(check out Bette
Midler's rendition [YouTube link]), to the 1981 film "Pennies
from Heaven" and the 2009 horror film, "Orphan."
But no film used this song to greater effect than this Stanley
Kramer-directed 1967
movie, on our tribute list today. The film is "dated" in some
respects, but it boasts a wonderful cast, headed by Spencer
Tracy, in his last film role (he received a
posthumous Oscar nomination in the Best Actor category), Katharine
Hepburn, who won the Oscar
for Best Actress (and who repeated that feat the following year for
her brilliant performance in "The
Lion in Winter," tying with Barbra
Streisand, who received the Oscar for her terrific film debut in "Funny
Girl"). In any event, the issues with which this film deals were
controversial in its day, but the problems surrounding racism, integration,
segregation, and the institution of marriage itself remain with us. After all,
in this film, Sidney
Poitier, who gives us a typically fine performance, wants to marry
Tracy and Hepburn's daughter (played by her real-life niece Katharine
Houghton), and when the film was released, it was only six months
after the last 17 states in the United States were forced to recognize
interracial marriage, because the U.S. Supreme Court had finally struck down
antimiscegenation laws (with obvious parallels to the more recent debate over
same-sex marriage). Sadly, Tracy had actually passed away two weeks after
filming his final scene in the movie, and two days after the Court's decision.
His character goes through immense pain dealing with the issue of knowing that
his daughter could marry a "colored" man, and that they would be tortured by the
harsh cultural forces around them, forces that exist till this day. But his
character undergoes a transformation throughout the course of the film, and his final
monologue [YouTube link] becomes, in essence, a paean to "The
Glory of Love" [YouTube link].
Posted by chris at 05:14 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Culture | Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1307
Song of the Day: And
Justice for All ("Main Title" / "There's Something Funny Going On") [YouTube
link], music by Dave
Grusin, lyrics by Alan
and Marilyn Bergman, is heard over the closing credits of the 1979
film; it has that late '70s disco vibe, as it is performed by Zach
Sanders and the NY Jailhouse Ensemble. Directed by Norman
Jewison, this film is a cynical look at our judicial system (there
are fewer ways to look at the structural deformities that often pass for
"justice," and this motion picture captures it with touches of satire and
tragedy). Al
Pacino is virtually forced to defend a hated judge (played by John
Forsythe of "Dynasty"
fame), [SPOILER ALERT] whom he discovers to be guilty. But you've got to see the
entire closing scene of the film, with Pacino at the peak of his career (and Jack
Warden, who provides one of his finest turns as the wonderful
character actor he is). The scene is just one of those "I'm
As Mad As Hell and I'm Not Going To Take This Anymore" 'Network'
moments that all of us should have more often. Check the scene out on YouTube.
The film opens with an instrumental "Main
Title" version [YouTube link] of the closing credits song; it
features the unmistakably fine sax work and sound of Tom
Scott.
Posted by chris at 05:59 AM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1306
Song of the Day: Son
of Kong ("Runaway Blues"), music and orchestrations by Max
Steiner, William
T. Stromberg, and John
Morgan, and lyrics by the uncredited Edward
Eliscu, is sung by Helen
Mack, in a hilarious scene in this 1933
sequel to the iconic
Great Ape film, "King
Kong." Carl
Denam (played by Robert
Armstrong) and Captain
Englehorn (played by Frank
Reicher) ship off from New York City to avoid the onslaught of
lawsuits being readied to cash-in on the destruction wrought by King
Kong, shot down from atop the Empire
State Building. Denam tells Englehorn that Nils Helstrom, from whom
he got the map of the prehistoric Skull Island, hinted that there was a treasure
on the island. While en route, Denham and Englehorn stop off in the Dutch port
of Dakang, and check out the local show, featuring performing monkeys and Hilda,
who sings this song. "She's got something," Denam says to Englehorn. "Well it
certainly isn't a voice." You be the judge; check it out on YouTube, along with this
expanded version, which includes three variations (though the film
has been colorized! For shame!). The film has an awfully unnecessarily tragic
ending, but cannot be overlooked due to the
superb Steiner score, which expands on many of the themes first
established by Steiner in "King Kong" (and let's not forget that Steiner
scored the 1949 film version of The Fountainhead). The film
features great stop motion animation by the legendary Willis
O'Brien. This is the only film I could think of that encapsulates two
of the chief themes of the day: "Runaway Blues," the perennial song of the
Groundhog who can't wait to run back into his burrow, less he face the blues of
six more weeks of winter (and it's official: for Puncsutwaney
Phil, "There is no shadow to be cast, an early spring is my forecast"
and Staten
Island Chuck, who once took
a chunk out of former Mayor Bloomberg's finger, and who remains
the champ of correct forecasting, agrees with Phil completely: Expect
an early spring.) All the better if you want to see The City clearly from atop
the Empire
State Building. In that grand Art Deco masterpiece of a building,
there was once housed the Nathaniel
Branden Institute, which, for years, had been publishing and
disseminating the philosophy of Ayn
Rand, who was born on this date in 1905.
Posted by chris at 09:10 AM | Permalink |
Posted to Culture | Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music
Song of the Day #1305
Song of the Day: The
Music Goes 'Round ("The Music Goes Round and Round") features the
music of Edward
Farley and Mike
Riley and the lyrics of Red
Hodgson. It became a 1935 hit for the Tommy
Dorsey Orchestra, with Edythe Wright on vocals [YouTube link]. In
February of 1936, almost 70 years ago to this day, a film, "The
Music Goes 'Round" made its debut to less-than-sparkling reviews, and
used this song for its interlude, something the New York Times said was
"the best thing in the new picture," and many artists through the years would
agree with that. Today begins Film Music February, an annual tribute that I
post every
year; it gives a nod to a film score cue, a song, or even music that
wasn't specifically written for a film, but whose presence in the film gives
moviegoers a scent of familiarity, while embedding it in an entirely new
cinematic context that evokes a fresh emotional response for those who
experience it (talk about shifting dialectical applications!). We'll feature a
different daily selection right up to the Oscars, and beyond, as our film
tribute metaphorizes into a paean to another Centenary Saint. For me, one of the
most memorable versions of this particular song was issued in 1959 by the late
great Sicilian American jazz entertainer, Louis
Prima, who always honored his greatest influence, Satchmo (and,
for those of you following Black History Month, which begins today, take note:
It was the great Louis
Armstrong who did the 1936
classic rendition [YouTube link] of this song). Take a listen to
Prima's version here.
And check out another film in which the
song is featured [YouTube link], the entertaining 1959 biopic of
cornetist, Red
Nichols (played by Danny
Kaye), "The
Five Pennies", in which Armstrong has
a cameo.
Posted by chris at 01:33 PM | Permalink |
Posted to Film
/ TV / Theater Review | Music