If. . . is a film that came recommended by my sister Linda, and I first saw it as a teenager in the late 1970s. I loved Lindsay Anderson's work then and enjoyed it even more so recently after watching If. . . for a third time as a full-fledged adult.
If. . . showcases a blistering take down of the British ruling classes in two phases: I) scrutiny of the hoary status quo -- symbolized as a public (private boarding) school -- by Mick Travis and his crew and II) an armed uprising.
Literalists would take this film as a blank check for going off the deep end, forming lunatic groups like the Weatherman, Baader-Meinhof and Symbionese Liberation Army. Broader, deeper thinkers might eventually form a loose coalition group like WikiLeaks. More cautious (and perhaps saner) people might take from this film a valid, universally true portrait of how things work in modern society and go from there.
Such a rebellious thematic approach, sometimes focusing only on phase I scrutiny and sometmes turning phase II into a more symbolic rebellion, can be traced directly from Jean Vigo's Zéro de conduite (1933) through François Truffaut's Les Quatre Cents Coups / The 400 Blows (1959), Anderson's If. . ., The Kinks Present Schoolboys in Disgrace (1976), The Sex Pistols (1975-1978), Pink Floyd's The Wall (1979), Alan Parker's Pink Floyd The Wall (1982) and David Fincher's Fight Club (1999, based on the 1996 Chuck Palahniuk novel). And there are others, but not much yet in the 21st century.
The whole cast of If..., led by Malcolm McDowell in his first role (as Mick Travis), is stellar. The mostly realistic school culture scenes alternate with surrealistic ones; some scenes are in black and white, others are in color. This was a point of much conversation by my sister Linda's "Neighborhood" bunch. I can see why.
Along the way through the film, there is some discussion of the First World War (yes!) and many telling visual details can be observed, like posters of Che Guevara (the iconic Alberto Korda shot), Chairman Mao and Charlotte Rampling. The eerily effective soundtrack (featuring Les Troubadours du Roi Baudouin and some other flourishes) is the same kind in spirit Werner Herzog would utilize throughout the 1970s. Everything works together seamlessly.
Here's a shot I snapped of the Crazy Heart band with Jeff Bridges and T. Bone Burnett last month at the 8.0 ("Eight Oh"), not long after The Big Lebowski showing at the Modern. Felt like stepping inside the movie Crazy Heart, weirdly.
Burnett and Bridges earlier this year won Crazy Heart Academy Awards: T-Bone (with Ryan Bingham) for "The Weary Kind" and Bridges (Best Actor) for his depiction of Bad Blake. Burnett was awarded a Stephen Bruton Award at the Lone Star International Film Festival and Bridges was given a Lone Star Society Lifetime Achievement Award. Stephen Bruton, who died last year, worked on the Crazy Heart soundtrack and was buddies from way back with T-Bone Burnett; Bruton had been part of Kris Kristofferson's band (among others) and cut five solo albums.
I had the opportunity to hear T-Bone Burnett speak for about an hour at the public library. There he talked a lot about his friendship with (Turner) Stephen Bruton, whose family owned Record Town, a "Beatnik record store" where they both learned a ton more about music. I'll pick up from there at some point, but meanwhile, "time out."
This past weekend, I actually went to Record Town and met Sumter Bruton III, Stephen's older brother and a veteran recording musician in his own right. Record Town, which was first opened by the Bruton family in 1957 after they moved to Fort Worth from New Jersey, is still going strong and still has a strong but laid back Bohemian vibe.
Sumter Bruton is a blast, throwing out stories left and right and going every which way with them. He spoke highly of Before Motown A History Of Jazz In Detroit 1920-1960 by Lars Bjorn with Jim Gallert (2001) and at one point, played a lick of John Lee Hooker's "Boogie Chillen'" on a guitar from behind the counter. Stories bounced from Black Ace to ZZ Top, about the intermingling of blues and country and so on. And he was the very guy who handed T-Bone Burnett the Stephen Bruton Award. "I had to think of things to say . . . like his full name is Joseph Henry Burnett." On a not unrelated note, Sumter Bruton has a reputation for playing in the tradition and style of an earlier T-Bone: Aaron ThibeauxT-Bone Walker.
Sumter is both affable and sharp, and others hung around listening, too. I picked up some Slim Harpo and Black Ace grooves while there. In the words of Arnie, I'll be back.
Much of Richard Attenborough's Oh! What a Lovely War (1969) was filmed on Brighton's West Pier (which had been built a century before) in 1968. In the film, it is luminous and beautiful, contrasting sharply with the Western Front.
I have fond memories of taking a train down from London's Victoria Station in 1991 and checking out Brighton with an English girlfriend, an architect who specialized in arcades and vestiges of military fortifications. The Gulf War had just ended, and British troops had paraded in the streets of London in full desert regalia. The train ride took only about an hour, and I was buoyant from seeing the Pogues and Kraftwerk at the Brixton Academy.
At the time we were there, Brighton's West Pier could not easily be reached because (as in the photo above by Paul M. Smith) a major section was missing. But you could see it clearly from shore. Since then, all the woooden parts have been destroyed by fire (in 2003), leaving only cast iron skeletal remains. Still magical in 1968, it included a pavilion, concert hall and arcade stands.
This is the West Pier observation deck from which the officer corps (surrealistically, and including John Mills and Edward Fox) direct operations and tally casualties, which were in reality colossal: on the first day of the Battle of the Somme alone, the British suffered nearly 60,000 casualties, including 20,000 dead. To put this in perspective, the KIA totals dwarf Anglo-American casualties for the entire duration of the ongoing Iraq (2003-present) and Afghanistan (2001-present) wars. In one day.
In the three-part documentary accompanying the DVD version (2006) of Oh! What a Lovely War, Attenborough mentions how he tried to incorporate eyewitness scenes painted during the Great War by C.R.W. Nevinson. Here's one, Paths of Glory (1917), considered "a hindrance to the war effort" at the time, now at the Imperial War Museum in London, which I explored in the early 1980s and 1991. Paths of Glory also happens to be the name of Stanley Kubrick's powerful 1957/1958 Great War film, and two WWI books (one by Humphrey Cobb, the basis for Kubrick's work, first published in 1935, and one by Irvin S. Cobb, 1915), deriving from Thomas Gray's 1750 poem, "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard:"
Oh! What a Lovely War(1969). I remember seeing this as a kid at the theater with my family. It stuck with me. Eventually, I created and taught a course called "The Great War and the 1920s" and would definitely recommend this film for such a course, though it wasn't yet available on DVD during the years I conducted my class. The DVD version was released in November 2006 and includes an excellent three-part documentary on the making of the film, with plenty of discussion about the First Workd War and its impact on the UK.
I'm not usually a fan of musicals, but here is a case where actual wartime songs are used brilliantly -- often with soldiers' versions of the lyrics, which are considerably more powerful than the orginal printed compositions.
There are many powerful scenes, some realistic (in the trenches), some surreal, on Brighton's West Pier. Based on a popular stage musical by Joan Littlewood, the film takes a comprehensive look at the Great War (focusing on the Western Front and the Home Front in England) from the British Empire's point of view at multi-levels of society. This is certainly not your typical war or anti-war movie. I remember the humor, and the horror -- mixed together in an unforgettable way.
General Haig (John Mills): "I ask Thee for victory, Oh Lord, before the Americans arrive." (This about an ally, not the enemy -- which speaks volumes even now).
General Haig's assessment of the war: "Our population is greater than theirs, and their losses are greater than ours. In the end we shall have 10,000 left. They shall have 5,000, and we shall have won." Forty years later, those lines still stick. As does a scene wherein horse cavalrymen are spun around a carousel; and many images of poppies as precursors to death. The cast is stellar -- many of the great British actors of the twentieth century are in it at one point or another.
Elaine Kaufman, RIP. She died today at age 81. Elaine's is one of the handful of Manhattan places I always aim to get to during visits to NYC. Hopefully, it will continue in operation in her honor.
Another place I always go when anywhere in the vicinity, the Hotel Chelsea, is up for sale as of October. Tavern on the Green, where I last ate at a few years ago, closed at the end of celebrating this past New Year's Eve. CBGB, which I first got to in the early 1980s, closed in mid-October, 2006. I watched the streaming video of Debbie Harry, Patti Smith and many others performing their finales for this from my apartment in Detroit.
Though I'm glad to have seen and heard all of this, it's sad to note these developments.
Here's a relevant "Erik's Choice" entry originally posted on April 6, 2009:
Like Baker's Keyboard Lounge in Detroit,Elaine'sin Manhattan is an international treasure highly recommended for its ambiance and cultural charge.
Opened in 1963 by Elaine Kaufman (b. 2/10/1929) Elaine's is a medium-priced Upper East Side restaurant and bar located at 1703 2nd Avenue -- between 88th and 89th Streets --New York, NY 10128; (212) 534-8103. Reservations taken. Writers very welcomed. Old school, low-key, sweet. No one has ever bitten me there, or scowled. Given that Elaine Kaufman is eighty now, I'd like to get back before anything major changes at Elaine's. Because as we all know, everything does change, sooner or later.
Related books: A.E. Hotchner, Everyone Comes to Elaine's: Forty Years of Movie Stars, All-Stars, Literary Lions, Financial Scions, Top Cops, Politicians, and Power Brokers at the Legendary Hot Spot (2004). An anecdotal recounting of goings on at Elaine's over the past near half-century.
Brian McDonald, Last Call at Elaine's: A Journey from One Side of the Bar to the Other (2008). Memoir by a sometimes self-destructive but resilient son of a cop and bartender turned writer.
Every action evokes reaction, every progressive step is delayed or thwarted by reactionaries. During the American Civil War, the Copperheads attempted to block Abraham Lincoln's leadership; conservative groups have opposed expanding voting rights since voting rights began. Nothing is really new as far as the kinetics of politics go: all one need do is look at the historical record. "Emancipated adult male slaves must not be allowed the right to vote!" "Women must not be allowed the right to vote!" "People 18-21 must not be allowed to vote!" "We must not make it too easy for people to register to vote!"
Most pertinently for today: "The US Army must not be integrated! It will be disruptive, bad for morale!"
When President Harry S Truman signed Executive Order 9981 in 1948, he initiated integration of the US Armed Forces against the apoplectic objections of major political leaders and military commanders, not just the Ku Klux Klan (take a look at the newspaper headlines above, if you will, and you will see how just how ugly many Americans can be, how shortsighted and, frankly, stupid, yet also, how farsighted leadership can be, too).
In any case, the point being this: the time has come -- and is long past due, but better late than never -- to shift official policy from "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" to Don't Ask, Do Tell. Tell the USA, Mr. President, with or without the blessings of the US Congress, that the US will no longer tolerate nor condone discrimination based on sexual orientation. A simple, logical and powerful reaffirmation of both Executive Order 9981 and the Civil Rights Acts of 1964-1965.
Today's Rune: Journey. Photos courtesy of US Library of Congress and US Army.
The Great War still resonates sharply nine decades and change later. In some ways, it has a more powerful hold on my imagination than the Second World War. If it had not been botched so badly and on such an epic scale, there wouldn't have even been a WWII, certainly not as we know it today.
In any case, everything being connected and all, I wonder what makes a 95-year old man plunge to his death of his own volition? Such as did Mario Monicelli, director of La grande guerra / The Great War (1959), just a couple of days ago. Born during the actual Great War (in 1915), he chose to die in 2010. Why? I wonder if there's any connection between his self-defenestration and the recent death of fellow Italian Dino De Laurentiis, a man four years his junior and also -- it so happens -- the producer of La grande guerra / The Great War? It's worth noting, too, that Monicelli's father (Tomaso Monicelli) also committed suicide, not long after the Second World War.
Maybe Monicelli just wanted more people to watch his movies. Whatever the case, having recently finished watching Richard Attenborough's Oh What A Lovely War! (1969) for the first time since seeing it (as a kid) at the theater about forty years ago, I'm aiming now to locate a copy of La grande guerra / The Great War.
