Some Initial Comments on "Get Back": Peter Jackson's Documentary About the Beatles' 1969 Recording Sessions

 

Beatles fans flooded Facebook and other social media sites with reviews of Get Back , director Peter Jackson's eight-hour documentary about the Fabs' 1969 recording sessions and rooftop concert, over Thanksgiving weekend. Lots of people who would otherwise never dream of sitting through eight hours of any film on Disney + subscribed to watch Get Back. (Unless you have a grandkid or two, Ice Age, endless Muppet and Star Wars movies, or Wreck-It Ralph, are probably not on your to-watch list.)   

Musicians and other creative people will find most the recording, jamming, and songwriting sessions fascinating. Causal fans and “normal” people. not so much.  

*SPOILERS*

Viewer advisory: Tobacco use (and copious quantities of tea and toast)

Part 1 plods along, but stick with it, things get more interesting when the band moves to Apple studios and Billy Preston joins them.

If you’re a causal fan or easily bored, you may want to stick to Part 3 only. If you get *really* bored easily, the rooftop concert starts an hour before the end of part 3.

Ringo offers comic relief with his fart comment. No one in the studio seems to pay much attention to it, however.

Heather wasn’t taking any of John’s BS (“You don’t eat any cats! They don’t taste good!” ) and it was cute when she imitated Yoko’s caterwauling.

Linda looked really pretty.

Yoko didn't cause any trouble, contrary to the myth. She just sat there (mostly silent) next to John, except for her trademark "singing" during an informal jam.

Ringo wore groovy shirts. I liked George’s Ugg-type boots in Part 3.

Who would have guessed that “Get Back” started out as a protest song about the anti-immigrant movement in the UK.

The police investigating the rooftop concert had a Keystone Cop vibe about 'em - but they were very polite.

John and Yoko had just finished filming Rock and Roll Circus with the Stones, thus John's running gag of, "And now your hosts for this evening, the Rolling Stones." 

Also, John didn’t seem to wash his hair much during this time. Ringo looked like he skipped the shampoo a few times, too

Some people have complained that they didn't like the interviews with pedestrians gazing up at the rooftop, but I enjoyed this exchange:

On-the-street interviewer- “You wouldn’t mind your daughter going out with a Beatle?”
On-the-street geezer - “I wouldn’t mind because they have money.”

John stops playing when Mal tells him about cops on the roof. When Paul sees the cops, he gives an enthusiastic  “Wooo!”

Some musical highlights: 

George helping Ringo work on the chords for "Octopus’s Garden".

Paul playing the melody for what would become "Let it Be" while everyone else mills about.

And Yay!!! A music documentary without Dave Grohl or Bono putting in their 1 1/2 cents! 

Documentary Review: The Terry Kath Experience

The Terry Kath Experience

Documentary

Directed by Michelle Kath Sinclair

When I mention the band Chicago, what do you think of? Syrupy love songs of the ‘80s and ‘90s and endless tours of the nostalgia circuit? That’s the recent and quasi-recent past, but that’s not the Chicago I remember.

The jazz-rock hippies of my childhood released double albums with songs in odd time signatures, with a prominent horn section and 12-minute songs based on classical music song cycles. And their original guitarist, Terry Kath, was deemed to be better than Jimi Hendrix by none other than….Jimi Hendrix. Unless you’re a musician or a longtime Chicago fan, you may not have heard of Terry Kath. He died in a freak accident in January 1978 when he was cleaning out one of his handguns.

The Terry Kath Experience, a documentary directed by Kath’s daughter, Michelle Kath Sinclair, retraces her Dad’s life via interviews with his friends, relatives, bandmates and fellow musicians. She was only two years old when he died and has little recollection of him. She produced the documentary through Kickstarter donations after traditional funding fell through due to the usual complaint - “limited appeal.”  

A daughter interviewing friends of the Dad she never knew gives the film an emotional appeal most other documentaries lack. (Of course, there are a few documentaries where an unrelated filmmaker interjects himself or herself into the subject’s life during the course of filming.) Even Peter Cetera showed up for this one. (He declined to be interviewed for the Netflix Chicago documentary.) There’s a clip of Kiefer Sutherland, Sinclair’s stepfather, at her wedding, recalling the day Kath died. 

There’s lots of archival footage - notes Kath was taking for his solo album, family photos and home movies, a concert filmed at Caribou Ranch and New Years Rockin’ Eve with the Beach Boys (both Dick Clark Productions).

In addition to her father’s bandmates in Chicago, Sinclair interviews all the usual suspects (Jeff Lynne, Joe Walsh, Mike Campbell, etc.) She also talks to a Chicago high school student who recreated Kath’s famous Fender Telecaster guitar after studying articles about the instrument in old guitar magazines. (Yes, there’s hope for the youth of today.)

Chicago at Caribou Ranch

The band’s first manager, James Guerico, bought Caribou Ranch, a recording studio/playground in Colorado for the band, and put them in Electra Glide in Blue, a movie he financed. But he also performed that obligatory rock manager move - cheating the band out of money. Like Cetera, he passed on the Chicago documentary, but grants Sinclair an interview

The documentary film crew pays a visit to the ranch on the day it’s slated for demolition. Camelia Kath recalls some of the memories in between the wood paneled walls. (The chivalrous way he wooed Camelia, whom he married in 1974, is endearing.)

A short interview clip reveals Kath wasn’t a connoisseur of groupies like many ‘70s rockers. Unfortunately, Kath did enjoy cocaine, another ‘70s vice, a bit too much, and that contributed to his early death.

The Chicago documentary Now More Than Ever (currently on Netflix) will fill you on the 40 years since Kath died. The band documentary also covers much of the same material in The Terry Kath Experience in more detail and with more era-appropriate drug and Playboy Bunny references.

Terry's famous Fender Telecaster

Sax player Walter Parazaider recalls Jimi tell him one night at the Whisky “Your guitar player is better than me.” (Probably the inspiration for the title The Terry Kath Experience.) The band’s keyboardist, Robert Lamm, among others, have said that Kath’s singing voice was that of a white Ray Charles. Those comments may sound over-the-top if you aren’t familiar with early Chicago. “Wait - this guy played guitar better than Jimi Hendrix and he sang like a white Ray Charles?” Here’s some supporting evidence.

25 or Six to Four (OMG Did they ever play this song on the radio ALL THE TIME)

After not hearing the song for years, you really appreciate it in all its glory.

If you doubt the accuracy of the statements about Kath’s guitar playing, this solo may convince you otherwise. 

Make Me Smile 

I’m a Man

Dialogue

Question 67 and 68

Cetera lip syncs to a recording in this clip. Check the comments section for Danny Seraphine’s memories of the filming and a great revelation from one viewer – “Whoa! Who’s that on guitar? I thought Chicago was weak-ass Dad music. That dude’s an animal.”

Takin It On Uptown

Little One (written for his daughter, it was the last song Kath ever sang with Chicago)

“Wishin’ You Were Here” (not to be confused with Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here”), and “Color My World” were other omnipresent songs in the early to mid ‘70s. There was no relief from Chicago ballads when I was in high school. Some kid played the intro to “Color My World” on the piano in the gym every damn day at the same time. Even the teachers complained, “Learn another song!!”

Listen to any pre-1979 Chicago album, especially Chicago Transit Authority and Chicago II, for more Terry Kath-era Chicago.

Michelle Kath Sinclair at  her father's alma mater, Taft High School in Chicago 

Film Review - Jobriath A.D.

Jobriath album cover, Times Square billboard, 1973

 

Jobriath A.D.

Music Documentary

Written and Directed by Kieran Turner
Narrated by Henry Rollins

Screened at Cinefamily’s “Don’t Knock the Rock Festival”

L.A., August 9, 2012

Kieran Turner’s documentary Jobriath, A.D. gives us a long-overdue glimpse into the life of one of rock 'n' roll’s most enigmatic characters. Jobriath, aka Bruce Wayne Campbell  aka Cole Berlin, went from through  many chameleon-like career changes in his 36 years,. from musical theater star to glam rock also-ran to cabaret singer.  Like Klaus Nomi, Jobriath was gay in an era when mainstream culture only accepted gay rock stars who hid or downplayed their sexual orientation.  Unlike Nomi, who was a vocalist/performance artist, Jobriath was an accomplished musician and songwriter. He was an adolescent piano prodigy who dropped out of college, joined the military, went AWOL, joined the L.A. cast of Hair, performed with hippie-rock band Pidgeon, spent time in a mental institution –and then things really got interesting.

Regardless of your musical (or sexual) preference, Jobriath A.D. has elements that will capture the interest of most viewers. It’s a story of an artist way before his time, the victim of an over-the-top publicity campaign, an unsophisticated public and a fickle press. Even in photos from a recording session with some of his Hair cast members, Jobriath emitted a cool, charismatic androgyny, long before any of the glam rock trapping appeared. His talent was undeniable, as he churned out song after song. As writer and activist Jim Fouratt, one of the film’s interviewees, notes, “He was one of those people who had talent that transcended his sexual orientation..”  Jobriath kept an extremely low profile about his real-life sexuality, despite his pronouncements to the press about being a “true fairy.”

Campbell gave himself the name Jobriath, a contraction of Job and Goliath, shortly before playing Woof in the stage version of Hair. He soon attracted the attention of Jerry Brandt, a flashy (one associate described him as “reptilian”) but successful music impresario. Brandt and Jobriath had a symbiotic relationship; they both wanted fame and fortune, to be “like Colonel Parker and Elvis.” Interviews with Brandt form the core of the documentary. He comes across like a high-end version of the satin-jacketed rock manager Bill Murray portrayed on Saturday Night Live.  By the end of the film, though, it becomes clear that he wasn't Jobriath's manager just for the potential money and gold records. He obviously revered his client's talent. The seemingly bottomless promo budget for Jobriath’s first album fueled a 50-foor square billboard in Times Square, full-page ads in major magazines and ads on London’s bus fleet.

Brandt got Jobriath booked on the pop variety show The Midnight Special, where he performed on the same bill with Gladys Knight and Spooky Tooth. Jobriath’s performance confused most people who watched it that night. They simply ignored him and continued listening to the Doobie Brothers. Despite a few glowing reviews, the music press portrayed him in as a flash-in-the-pan imitation of Bowie, Bolan, et al.

Despite a mixed critical reaction to the album and near zero attention from record-buyers, Brandt and Jobriath forged ahead with new projects, which included  planning a performance at the Paris Opera House. The spectacle, which would put even Lady Gaga to shame, involved King Kong and a replica of the Empire State Building that turns into a large penis – and this was in 1974! The concert never materialized, but  animator Benjamin Nielsen envisions how the project may have turned out in one of  Jobriath A.D.'s cartoon sequences. By the time Jobriath’s second album, Creatures of the Street ,was released in 1974, the marketing campaign had run out of steam, and Jobriath retreated to pyramid apartment on top of the Chelsea Hotel. He reinvented himself as cabaret singer Cole Berlin, and gained a following at piano bars in Manhattan. Jobriath died of AIDs in 1983, one of the first rock musicians to succumb to the disease.

Turner includes interviews with people from the pre-glam part of Jobriath’s life, including his brother, Hair castmate Gloria Jones and the play’s producer, Michael Butler. Other interviewees run the gamut from Jayne County, another trailblazer for the LGBT music community, to Joe Elliot (Def Leppard did a version of Heartbeat on one of their covers albums), Ann Magnuson, Jake Shears of Scissors Sisters, Will Sheff of Okkervil River and Marc Almond. So that’s quite a range of performers who credit Jobriath as a musical influence.  

Director Kieran Turner’s fully-rounded effort doesn’t gloss over any facet of this story or take too long on any one part of this complicated saga; his timing with the material is spot-on.  Turner’s research for the film turned up several gems, including interview footage of Brandt and Jobriath from the Los Angeles. NBC affiliate.  This documentary connects all the obscure Jobriath info floating around the Internet  and elsewhere and fits the puzzle pieces together. Jobriath A.D.  pays homage to a man who broke ground for gay people in rock music, the man some music scribes refer to as “America’s Bowie” 

Jobriath A.D. Official Site

DVD Review: Anything Boys Can Do: A Music Documentary by Ethan Minsker

 

Anything Boys Can Do, is a gritty portrait of female punk and alternative musicians in 1990s New York City. Released in 1996 by filmmaker Ethan Minkser of the Antagonist Arts Movement, the young women in this film infiltrate the Lower East Side and other artsy haunts of Manhattan with performances that are way beyond underground. Even the band names (except for the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black)  might be unknown to anyone but New York scenesters of the time. The NYC alternative punk girls of the ‘90s were known for extremes in message and looks. They weren’t family or celebrity friendly like today’s “punks.” 

The girls from “Thrust” perform what looks like a “secret” show in a parking lot, playing thrashy music and simulating sex acts while partially clothed. Tribe 8 plays rough pro-lesbian, pro-feminist grunge, Sexpod, perhaps the most musically adept band in the documentary, has a lazy, bluesy tinge to their songs. Kembra  Pfahler of the Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black performs topless in her signature horror movie make-up and body paint, growling/screeching/singing and engaging in all types of antics. She does a headstand while a member of her troupe cracks an egg over her vulva. By the time this happens, we’re so immune to the noise and nudity it’s neither shocking nor titillating. It’s just part of the show. Actually, I think I’d be shocked if I ever saw Kembra onstage with her breasts fully covered. This 71-minute film delves deeply into the aspects of the bands' struggles with making it in the male-dominated music world  as well as some of their personal struggles. This isn’t documentary “lite” – it really gets under its subjects’ skin.