Jim Jarmusch: 'Mystery Train' (1989)

We'll let The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling, rest a bit, and turn to Jim Jarmusch's indie style film, Mystery Train (1989). Set in Memphis, Tennessee, Mystery Train is composed of three connected "fish out of water" stories. 

The pacing is deliberative, letting us hang out with the characters long enough to understand them, at least to a point of empathy -- how and why they arrived and where they may be going. Cleverly, Jarmusch helps us "defamiliarize" ourselves with the USA, looking at aspects of American culture with fresh perspectives.*

Two Japanese music fans arrive in Memphis via Amtrak, needling each other about their preferences and wandering around.

An Italian widow has a layover at the airport, so decides to explore the city. She has adventures along the way and even a little supernatural visitation.

A laid-off and jilted Englishman is drunk, angry, and carrying a loaded pistol in a bar. Buddies and a brother-in-law (who turns out to be only his would-be brother-in-law) try to calm him down and keep him out of trouble. Once outside of the bar, he asks to stop somewhere to get more bounce. What could go wrong? 

Strategic points in the urban landscape (like the patchy hotel and a particular view of the city skyline) combine with time and energy to lightly brush the stories together. 

Joe Strummer (1952-2002) of The Clash plays the surly Englishman with charisma. His sidekicks include characters played by Steve Buscemi (The Sopranos, &c.), comedian Rick Aviles (1952-1995), and Detroit's own Vondie Curtis-Hall. 

Nicoletta Braschi (who is also featured in an earlier Jarmusch film, Down by Law) plays the Italian widow and Elizabeth Bracco (The Sopranos), her temporary roommate. 

Youki Kudoh (Snow Falling on Cedars) and Masatoshi Nagase (Funuke Show Some Love, You Losers!) play the needling Japanese visitants.

The hotel guys are played by Screamin' Jay Hawkins (1929-2000) -- "I Put a Spell on You" (1956) and Cinqué Lee (Spike Lee's younger brother).

Good stuff! More recently, Jarmusch directed Gimme Danger (2016), on Iggy & The Stooges. I posted on it here.

*See Russian Formalism for more on this groovy scrim.

Today's Rune: Joy. 

'Country Soul: Making Music and Making Race in the American South'

Fascinating book: Charles L. Hughes' Country Soul: Making Music and Making Race in the American South (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2015). Much to ponder. Country Soul takes a clear-eyed look at the interconnections between music production and distribution, cultural impact, ideas about race, and politics. Reaching back to the 1960s and 1970s and then progressing forward, Country Soul is completely relevant to our time.

"[M]usicians of the country-soul triangle [Memphis-Nashville-Muscle Shoals] became pivotal actors in the larger trajectory of U.S. racial politics in the twentieth century. Both literally and figuratively, they produced the cultural markers of race that . . . reshaped the ways people in the United States (and internationally) understood the supposed similarities and differences between black and white" (page 3). 

Hughes looks at a spectrum of recording artists (ranging from groups like the Staple Singers to Lynyrd Skynyrd) and challenges quaint myths about broad racial harmony in the South. As for politics, "In the 1970s the [white] South embraced a rightward political drift symbolized by George Wallace and Richard Nixon and scored by the period's mainstream country music . . . The new music scenes played a striking and surprising role in the silencing of African Americans. In Texas . . . both Austin and Houston earned national attention as musical accompaniments for the New South, whose celebrated artists were almost entirely white" (pages 164-165). 

And: "In a sad echo of Confederate and segregationist apologists, the dominant narrative suggests that everything was fine until outsiders showed up . . ." (page 192). Which reminds me, Hughes quotes singer Merry Clayton (probably most widely recognized by her powerful backing vocals on "Gimme Shelter" and "Sweet Home Alabama"): "There was nothing sweet about Alabama. You can hear our anger" (page 162).  As for Hughes, he comes across as telling it like it is.

Today's Rune: Wholeness.  

Albert King: "A Big Legged Woman Gonna Carry Me to My Grave"

Albert King (1923-1992), like Wilson Pickett, hit the big time with Stax Records in Memphis. Both musicians, backed by Booker T. & The MG's, took off in the mid-1960s -- Pickett with "In the Midnight Hour" in 1965, King in 1966 with "Laundromat Blues." King's knockout signature song came in 1967 with "Born Under a Bad Sign:"

"If it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all."

King was a big guy and a biting, singing guitar player -- like the just passed B. B. King (1925-2015). 

From this 1999 Rhino Records anthology -- The Very Best of Albert King (Blues Masters series), I particularly like:

"Born Under a Bad Sign"
"Cold Feet"
and "Cadillac Assembly Line" 

Thank you, Albert King (and B.B. King, while giving thanks), thanks also to Rhino Records for this anthology. And now, adieu, adieu -- this CD now off to someone new.

Today's Rune: The Mystery Rune. 

Wilson Pickett: "In the Midnight Hour"

The KonMari method of "tidying" frees up shelf space. Too, it inspires joyful reunions with half-forgotten CDs like this Wilson Pickett (1941-2006) anthology.  

The dapper, raspy-voiced Pickett came into his own with the release of "In the Midnight Hour." This track "entered the R & B chart on May 26, 1965, at number thirty-five," then "climbed to number one and spent nearly three months on the chart. . ." - Robert Gordon, Respect Yourself: Stax Records and the Soul Explosion (New York: Bloomsbury, 2013), page 107. That was all it took to hit the big time.

Coming to Memphis for the "In the Midnight Hour" recording session, Alabama-born Detroiter Wilson Pickett stayed at the Lorraine Hotel (pictured above in a 2014 photo). Here he and guitarist Steve Cropper of Booker T. & the MG's put together the basics for "In the Midnight Hour." The rest was worked out in the Stax studio.

"'[T]hey built the record organically -- not deductively. I'd see the MG's come to work in the morning, hang up their coats, gather up their axes, and start playing music. Maybe it was some chord changes, maybe it was a lick, maybe it was a song, but they started playing, they started building it. I said, My God, this is fantastic'" - Jerry Wexler, quoted in  Robert Gordon, Respect Yourself: Stax Records and the Soul Explosion (New York: Bloomsbury, 2013), page 107.

In this 1993 Wilson Pickett CD anthology, several strong tracks follow the big opener. I particularly like "634-5789 (Soulsville, U.S.A.)," "Land of 1000 Dances," "Mustang Sally," "Funky Broadway" and "She's Lookin' Good."

All right, look a-here! 
When you wear your wigs, baby, you wear your dresses tight 
You wear your 44, baby, when you step out late at night 
You're lookin' good . . .

Now that I've listened to this fun CD a few more times, pondered its contents, written about it and expressed gratitude  -- I can give it away. Yes!

Today's Rune: Wholeness. 

Farewell, 2014!

Did a fair amount of walking the Earth in 2014, plus travel by air, rail and four-wheeled automobile. No ships this year, no bus, but one horse and buggy team. Madrid was a highlight, plus around Spain by rail and via London and New York City by jet. Walked Center City Philadelphia in cold weather in January (including Northern Liberties -- great name), plus visits to New Britain and Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania; afterwards, Memphis and Shiloh, Tennessee; Corinth, Mississippi; Hot Springs, Arkansas; North Carolina's Research Triangle area (where I began the first day of the year), plus Greensboro and Fayetteville; and New Orleans for quick sorties (much easier to fly in and take a taxi than drive, I've learned). Wanting to get to back to Detroit and Spain and also on to Cuba for the first time, maybe even Portugal. Interesting year, for sure. Got to spend time with lots of family and friends along the way, another benefit of traveling.

Saw many things while walking, and took photographs from time to time. One of the gifts of pictures is being able to see details that may have been missed or overlooked in person. The little red and gold hammer and sickle symbol embedded in this scene, for instance: it must have caught my eye, but if so, I would have forgotten were it not for this image. Turns out that it's the logo for el Partido Comunista de los Pueblos de España (PCPE). Probably wouldn't see that in Kansas -- which is just another excellent reason to see places far from home base. Finally, people and places change with time, so return visits are equally eye-popping.

Happy trails, y'all! A salute to 2014!

Today's Rune: Fertility. 

Pilgrimage to Memphis: Done Gone to Graceland

O seasons, O castles, 
What soul is without flaws? 

(Arthur Rimbaud, circa 1871)

Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.

(Rimbaud, A Season in Hell, 1873).

I believe I am in Hell, and so I am there.

(Rimbaud, A Season in Hell, 1873).

"I say one must be a seer, make oneself a visionary. The poet makes himself a seer by an immense, long, deliberate derangement of all the senses."

(Rimbaud letter, 1871)

Once, I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.

(Rimbaud, 1873).

Elvis Presley (1935-1977), RIP.

Today's Rune: Movement.  

Note: English translations of Rimbaud (1854-1891) derived from Wikiquote (open source). I changed a translated word in one instance, from "seer" to "visionary."

Pilgrimage to Memphis: Buildings and Food

Sun Studio (1950). Recording artists have included Ike Turner, Howlin' Wolf, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, B. B. King, Jerry Lee Lewis and so on. 

The Eugene Magevny house (1836) at 198 Adams Avenue, one of the oldest surviving buildings in Memphis. Magevny was Catholic, born in Ireland. Memphis has had a Catholic presence since the beginning. Saint Peter's is to the left. 

The Dominican Order has served continuously at St. Peter since 1846. . .  Construction of the present church began in 1852 around the intact older original sanctuary [dating to 1842-1843] and was completed in 1855. Once built, parts of the original church were dismantled and carried out the doors, piece by piece.  

For more information, here's a link. 

Elsewhere in Memphis, there's a structure that dates back to 1832 -- the Hunt-Phelan House at 533 Beale Street.

Peabody Hotel (1925). Main lobby. Ducks were there, cavorting in the center fountain.

Kress Building (1927).  S. H. Kress & Co. 5-10-25 Cent Store. Around the USA, many such impressive Kress buildings have been sensibly preserved and "repurposed." 

Beale Street at night. Here, fashion statements have devolved into slovenly casual. That's off-the-rack global capitalism at work. Support your local tailors! Compare with the natty attire worn in a 1968 protest march here. 

Today's Rune: Fertility. 

Pilgrimage to Memphis

Pilgrimage to Memphis: National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Hotel (aka Motel). Side approach. Just reopened with extensive renovations on April 5, 2014. This image was frozen in time on April 11, 2014.  

The front of the Lorraine. Wreath marks the area where Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated on April  4, 1968. The National Civil Rights Museum is powerful, and goes perfectly well with the International Civil Rights Center & Museum in Greensboro, North Carolina. 

Last year at this time, also with friends I checked out the Little Rock Central High School National Historic Site in Little Rock, Arkansas, equally worth the pilgrimage. They are all sobering places of universal merit.    

Here's an eccentric Catholic-themed altar-like display on Beale Street in a shop front. It includes the latest three popes and various snippets of related text such as:

PROUD 2 B

AN AMERICAN

LAND OF THE FREE

FREEDOM OF SPEECH

FREEDOM OF RELIGION

GOD BLESS AMERICA

And, quoting Pope Francis: 'WHO AM I TO JUDGE?'

Other bits include: "Francis credited with exorcism." Let's not forget this airy claim: "Memphis is the center of the spiritual universe."

Pilgrimage to Memphis. Closeup of a sign for Shirley's Beauty Salon, near Stax grounds. Can you dig?

Today's Rune: Partnership.  

Soulsville USA

Here's the front of Stax Museum of American Soul Music at 926 East McLemore Avenue in Memphis, Tennessee. Can you dig? It's been up and running for a little more than a decade. Soulsville USA has clear lines of connection, in its engaging spirit of music and energy, with Hitsville USA (Motown Museum) in Detroit city, Michigan.

"The mission of the Soulsville Foundation is to preserve, promote, and celebrate the many unique cultural assets of the Soulsville, USA neighborhood in Memphis, while supporting the development of new educational and community-building opportunities." Here's a link for more details.

Right on the same grounds as the museum are The Soulsville Charter School (between 500 and 600 students, grades 6-12) and Stax Music Academy. How cool is that?

Stax-related artists include Booker T. & the MGs, Otis Redding, Eddie Floyd, Staples Singers, Elvis (in the 1970s), Isaac Hayes and so on. Stax Museum covers all of soul music, from Memphis and Detroit to around the world.

Today's Rune: Fertility. 

The Fall of Vicksburg and The Battle of Helena, Arkansas: 150

Today's the 150th anniversary of both the fall of Vicksburg and the Battle of Helena, Arkansas. They are related. The Confederate assault on Helena was an attempt to relieve pressure on Vicksburg, but it came too late, and ended in defeat. The fall of Vicksburg split the Confederacy at the Mississippi River and boosted U.S. Grant's status as a Union commander. Helena was a failed attempt to knock out a Union garrison further up the Mississippi toward Memphis, Tennessee.

At Helena, Arkansas, on July 4, 1863, the Union garrison only had about 4,100 men, including Jeremiah C. France (1840-1865), one of my ancestors serving in the 43rd Indiana Volunteer Infantry Regiment. The Confederates assaulted with just under 8,000 troops. It was a sharp, bloody fight. The entrenched Union troops lost about 249 casualties while the much more exposed attackers lost more than 1,600. The bluecoats had entrenched artillery and a gunboat in the river in place to rake the rebels with shot and shell. Another horrible battle, overshadowed by Gettysburg and Vicksburg. I intend to visit sometime in the next year or so.

Today's Rune: Wholeness.   
  

The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975: Take Two

Göran Olsson's The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975 (2011) begins with footage from 1967 when the US population is 210 million (it's now 312 million at the time of this posting) at the height of the US-Vietnam War, with a military draft in place and 525,000 American soldiers deployed in Vietnam.

Swedish archival footage gives us fresh glimpses at people, places and events, including stellar footage of Stokely Carmichael (or Kwame Ture, 1941-1998, pictured above) and his mother -- she has a fascinating Trinidid-New York City hybrid accent, while he retains a subtler Trinidadian lilt. When asked in Paris if he fears being imprisoned upon his return to the USA, he responds, "I was born in jail." He relocates to West Africa in 1969. 

Martin Luther King is clearly against the US-Vietnam War, as Angela Davis notes in narration made for parts of the documentary. His "Beyond Vietnam" speech at Riverside Church, NYC on April 4, 1967 -- exactly one year to the day before his assassination in Memphis -- epitomizes his overall stance: "We must rapidly begin the shift from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights, are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered."

There's footage of MLK and Harry Belafonte meeting with King Gustaf VI Adolf (1882-1973) of Sweden in Stockholm, reminding us of ongoing Swedish support for human and civil rights as well as the international dimensions of American society.

Black Power kicks into high gear when MLK is killed in 1968, the year of the Tet Offensive and sometimes called Revolutionary Year Zero. (To be continued).

Today's Rune: The Mystery Rune.       

Seven Hundred Little Records: All Blues, Rock, Rhythm, and Jazz

With Chuck Berry coming to town on Saturday night, it's time to conjure some favorite tunes of his. "Nadine" (1963) is up there, and "You Never Can Tell" (1964). There's "No Particular Place to Go" (1964) and "Memphis, Tennessee" (1959). Let's not forget a lesser known tune, "Havana Moon" (1957) and also "You Can't Catch Me" (1956). Another favorite is "Promised Land" (1964): "workin' on a t-bone steak a la cart-ee . . ."

There are more -- for tomorrow after the show, maybe.

How about you?

A bunch of Chuck Berry songs may be known as much by cover versions or adaptations -- but his influence is clear and direct -- all down the line -- for nearly sixty years running.

Today's Rune: Breakthrough.

Al Green: Take Me to the River

Nearly finished Al Green's frank and thoughtful Take Me to the River: An Autobiography (with Davin Seay. Chicago Review Press, 2009; originally published in 2000). Green delves into his childhood (when he was Albert Greene) in and around the small crossroads town of Jacknash, Arkansas -- about halfway between Little Rock and Memphis, Tennessee. Then on to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where his parents dragged him and his siblings when Al was nine (if memory serves). Next, muddling through school, singing, Mother Bates' gospel, thinking about Jackie Wilson and Detroit, joining a band. Next, getting kicked out of the family home by his father (not without reason) and taking up with Juanita, a lonely prostitute. Eventually, dropping the e from his name and becoming Al Green. And onward, through many trials and setbacks, until he makes it big after settling in Memphis -- with a lot of help and guidance along the way.

I'm adding this one to my favorite books list.

Today's Rune: Gateway.      

Levee Camp Moan Revisited

Even with the internet, it's hard to find a lot of things, which means sometimes you've (still) got to do it for yourself. Here's my quick and dirty transcription of Son House, "Levee Camp Moan," from the long version on Father Of The Delta Blues: The Complete 1965 Sessions.

Notes: "Levee Camp Moan" brings together elements from Son House's earlier renditions (1941-1942 sessions) of "Levee Camp Blues" and "Government Fleet Blues" -- you can hear that immediately, simply by playing them one after the other.  So far as I know, Son House was married five times, and was in his sixties at the time of performing the long version.

Hughes, Arkansas, is a part of the Mississippi Delta region, ten miles from the river and thirty from Memphis, Tennessee. It has been flooded more than once over the years. I'm supposing this Hughes is where the singer's "good looking woman" lived; it had fairly quick access to the landings where levee workers came in after shoring the lines up and down the Mississippi, sometimes (as in 1927) under the guns of the National Guard.

Levee Camp Moan (1965)

You know I had a job on the levee
I had a good looking woman who lived in Hughes
I had a job on the levee
I had a good looking woman she lived in Hughes
You know that pretty little thing
She kept me with the government fleet blues

You know on every pay day
She'd be standing around the landing crying
On every pay day
She'd be standing around the landing crying
She be saying why don't that big boat hurry and
Bring home that man of mine?

You know on every pay day
She could, she could hear the big boat when she blow
Well on every pay day
She could hear the big boat when she blow
But when I done not get the check
She told me she couldn't use me no more

But I said that's all right big girl
Honey, that's all right for you
Yeah - hooooo -- little girl that's all right for you
I say you treat me low down and dirty
See, baby, that's the way you's do

I packed up all my clothes
Left her settin' in the back door crying
Aye yeah I left her settin' in the back door crying
You know that done run the poor girl crazy
I believe she gonna lose her mind

You know don't come here honey
Throwing up your doggone hands
Don't come here baby
I said throwing up your doggone hands

You know I, I been your dog
Ever since that I been your man

But I said baby when you get lonesome
Set right down and write to me
Yeah -- yeah -- set right down you can write to me
You know I can read your little writing baby
Don't care where in this world I'll be

You know love . . . make you do things you don't want to do
You know love . . . make you do things you don't want to do
You know from love sometime
Will leave you feeling so sad and so blue

Oh, Listen here honey
Think about poor me some time
Yeah -- hooooo -- think about poor me some time
You know I feel so bad
When you roll across my mind

You know if you never no more see me
You'll forever be on my mind
If I never no more see you
Yeah, you'll forever be on my mind
You know every time I think about you honey
I just can't keep from crying

Oh it's so hard
To love when they don't love you
Ah, yeah -- yeah, when they don't love you
You can't do nothing baby when they do not want you

But I tell 'em look it here, baby
Your little trouble is coming home some day
Yeah just like I tell you
Your little trouble is coming home some day
I said you gonna be sorry
That you treated poor me this way



Today's Rune: Flow.  (Photo credit, 1927 levee workers: Janet Neusome).

Joe Louis: American Icon

Except when quoting, I'm laying down a personal moratorium on the word "hero." That said, we jump from Castro's Cuba to the JFK assassination (47 years ago today), back to Castro and then to Joe Louis, who visited Cuba in 1959-1960. In January 1960, he was quoted as saying “Cuba was the only vacation spot where Negroes could go without bias.”*  This did not go over well during the Cold War. But let's step back to the 1930s through early 1950s, and a cool CD I picked up at Half Price Books: Joe Louis: An American Hero, orginally released in 2001 and now available on demand.

Alabama-born Detroit Challenger, World Champion, Cultural Legend.  More than forty songs were composed, recorded and released about Joe Louis during his lifetime, creating a microcosm of American society from various perspectives. I love these kinds of cultural overlays and palimpsests.  This collection includes seventeen tracks, and not all of them are songs.   One one track, the Reverend Mr. J. M. Gates delivers a sermon, "Joe Louis' Wrist and His Fist" (1940).  Two of my favorite cuts so far are Memphis Minnie's "He's in the Ring (Doin' the Same Old Thing" (1935) and The Dixieaires gospel song, "Joe Louis Is a Fightin' Man" (1947) to the tune of "Joshua Fought the Battle of Jericho."

Here, Detroit's Mayor Albert E. Cobo meets with Joe Louis; Joe's Mama looks on worshipfully.  [Photo credit: Virtual Motor City, Wayne State University].

Started checking out these books for more on Joe Louis:

Thomas R. Hietela, The Fight of the Century: Jack Johnson, Joe Louis, and the Struggle for Racial Equality, 2002.

*Alternate version: "where a Negro can go in the wintertime without discrimination." In "CUBA: Fidel & the U.S. Negro," Time, June 6, 1960.

Barney Nagler, Brown Bomber, 1972.

Today's Rune: The Self.

The Howlin' Wolf Story, Part 2

Picking up from Part 1 of The Howlin' Wolf Story, it's worth noting here (as Walking Man commented in the previous post) that Wolf was a big man, around three hundred pounds, and yet -- as someone else quipped (I don't remember who or where), on stage he was like a force of nature, fusing Jimi Hendrix's antics (learned from Charley Patton) with the gymnastics of Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop.

In any case, not too long after his early Memphis hit singles, he drove with four thousand bucks in hand to Chicago, developing a strong musical presence there, teaming up with Chess records. He eventually added to his band Hubert Sumlin from Wast Memphis days; in Chicago, Sumlin developed into a fantastic and highly influential electric guitar player. By the end of the 1950s, Wolf got married and adopted two daughters. A thorough professional, he took care of both his family (his wife became his business manager) and band members, though his "Christian" mother down South still never forgave him for his choice of career; in fact, she refused to take the money he offered. When the Wolf sang "Goin' Down Slow," he probably meant it when he came to these lines:

Please write my mother, tell her the shape I'm in
Tell her to pray for me, forgive me for my sin . . .

By the early 1960s, black music audiences had shifted away from the blues, but after a rough few years, white audiences -- particularly in Europe -- took to the style in a big way. Enter the Rolling Stones. Already major stars, they covered the Wolf's "Little Red Rooster" (pretty surrealistically if you compare the two, notably recorded in Chicago) in 1964; after it became a number one hit in the UK, the Stones created a space for the American, a hero to them, on Shindig (#37, 1965).

Wolf was treated like royalty while on tour in Europe. By the end of the 60s, though, his health deteriorated (kidneys, heart); nonetheless, he agreed to work on The London Howlin' Wolf Sessions in 1970, which after its release in 1971 sold more than 900,000 copies according to the documentary.

Howlin' Wolf's great sideman Hubert Sumlin observes long after Wolfs death in 1976, "He was on it. I still think he's here right now . . ."  Throughout The Howlin' Wolf Story, Sumlin comes across as a vibrant, joyous person.  I'd really love to see the 78-year old guitar hero in person  -- he represents a living link to the beginning of recorded blues music. His website:
http://www.hubertsumlinblues.com/index.html



Today's Rune: Defense.  Photo: Howlin' Wolf at Silvio's, Chicago. Credit: http://thehoundblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/howlin-wolf.html

The Howlin' Wolf Story, Part 1

Don McGlynn's Howlin' Wolf Story -- The Secret History of Rock & Roll (2003) provides an excellent overview of the life and times of Chester Arthur Burnett (6/10/1910-1/10/1976). The highlight for me -- home movie footage shot by drummer Sam Lay in Chicago -- fantastic!

The Wolf's arc from a rough Mississippi childhood to self-sustaining Chicago-based career is well-traced, as is his tragic relationship with his mother, a spiteful woman who hid behind Christianity and castigated the blues as Devil's music (and she wasn't kidding). Along the way to Memphis and his first recording sessions at Sun Studios (when in his early forties), Wolf plays alongside such blues luminaries as Charley Patton, Son House and Robert Johnson; he does two years of Army service during WWII; has steady success in West Memphis, Arkansas, and even a half-hour radio show. "And the peoples went for what I was puttin' down," Wolf observes earlier. In 1951, when he cuts "Moanin' at Midnight" and "How Many More Years," his life experiences fuel his artistry. He notes of the blues at one point, "A person hever had a hard time, they never will know what the blues are anyway." The 50s cuts endure as powerful avatars of electric blues. From the first recordings to his death, he's got twenty-five more years to go.

To be continued . . .



Today's Rune: Wholeness.

George Hickenlooper: Picture This

In tribute to George Hickenlooper (5/25/1963-10/29/2010), here is an entry originally posted in 2006, with a few slight changes.

Before director George Hickenlooper completes production of the new Edie Sedgwick biop, it’s worth revisiting his earlier work. For now, I’ll focus on his touching and insightful documentary shot on location during the filming of Texasville (1990) -- which was itself a sequel to The Last Picture Show (1971), and based, like the earlier film, on a Larry McMurtry novel of the same name.

Picture This: The Times of Peter Bogdanovich in Archer City, Texas (1991) was produced by Timothy Bottoms and co-produced by Sam Bottoms, his brother.

The viewer quickly gets a feel for Archer City in any of these three films. In Hickenlooper’s work, the people from the community who were willing to talk are fascinating – defiantly rural in outlook but quite cognizant of pop culture. They are quite happy to make their attitudes known on film.

In Picture This, we learn a lot about the making of The Last Picture Show, directed (as was Texasville) by Bogdanovich. Production designer Polly Pratt, his wife at the time, had recommended making the book into a movie. Once they decided to do it in collaboration with Larry McMurtry, they flew to Dallas-Fort Worth and drove with him for two hours scouting locations before arriving in Archer City. Seeing the swinging traffic light there, the out of towners concluded, “This is the town,” to which McMurtry responded, “It ought to be: this is the town I wrote about.” Apparently, the author wanted to change some of the original content, but the director and Pratt decided to stay true to the book, with only minor changes. (And they succeeded brilliantly).

We get to see Larry’s mother Hazel interviewed, and she’s quite entertaining. She recalls challenging The Last Picture Show novel as scandalous, to which her son responded pragmatically and unflinchingly, “I want my books to sell.”

Pratt was taken with McMurtry’s talent as a writer, and was awed by his making it despite the poverty of his surroundings. “Of course,” she concludes, “it was that town that incubated that talent to grow – what else was there to do?”

There is much speculation about what character is based on what real person. And though McMurtry at one point says bluntly “I’m not a journalist -- I’m a fiction writer,” actual people did make their way into composite major characters. We learn, for instance, that Archer City’s “Most Beautiful Girl” in a long ago yearbook is Celie Slack (Ceil Cleveland, who wrote a memoir about this in 1997), that she did inspire elements of Jacy Farrow (played by Cybill Shepherd in her first acting role). Bobby Stubbs formed at least the rough model for Sonny (played by Timothy Bottoms), down to havng had his eye gouged in a fight with Celie’s other boyfriend. Celie puts it rather sweetly: “Bobby and I were very good friends.” Indeed.

One of the best aspects of Picture This is the interwoven series of personal recollections about production decisions and processes. The viewer also gets to see brief screen tests, including one for Randy Quaid. What strikes me about all the actors is how similar they seem in real life to their on screen personas. One of them, Ben Johnson, initially turned down the role of Sam the Lion because of “bad language,” and had to be persuaded by director John Ford to play the part, which eventually earned him an Academy Award.

For all sorts of reasons, it was a tough film to make for most of the cast and crew. One reason was the love affair that developed between Bogdanovich and Shepherd. The director discovered his Jacy on the cover of Glamour Magazine and immediately fell for her “insouciant, slightly sardonic smile. . .” When they met, Shepherd appreciated that he treated her “equally.” According to PB: “We just talked and she was sort of offhand. . .” and sometime during the course of film making, they hooked up. Pratt, the displaced wife, observed of the newcomer: “She is that girl who seems to have it all” – the perfect person to play Jacy Farrow. As one of the crew members recalls: “All of a sudden one day Polly was not staying in Peter’s suite.” But Polly made a truce with reality and completed the project, even having to do Cybill’s hair each day before filming. Pratt merely observes: “I really believed that every director would have an affair with their leading lady.”

Shepherd characterizes her hookup with the director as the beginning of a “major relationship” with Bogdanovich – and indeed, they did not end their romance until 1978 when, "fed up with Hollywood," she returned to her hometown of Memphis and married an auto-parts dealer.

Today's Rune: Fertility.