Category: Daily Dispatch

  • A Cinematic Birthday Cake for Aaron Copland

    A Cinematic Birthday Cake for Aaron Copland

    If you want to work in Hollywood, you’ve got to expect once in a while somebody’s going to mess with your things – even if you’re a Pulitzer Prize winner, lauded as the “Dean of American composers.”

    Aaron Copland was not very happy when his music for “The Heiress” was chopped to ribbons, dialed down and rescored without his approval.

    This week on “Picture Perfect,” on Copland’s birthday anniversary, we’ll hear a suite from “The Heiress,” with the main title music restored by Arnold Freed in 1990 to what the composer originally intended.

    William Wyler (“Wuthering Heights,” “Friendly Persuasion,” “The Big Country,” “Ben-Hur”) was a brilliant director, but he had a tin ear. His films consistently sported the best scores of their era, and yet he mostly underappreciated, if not outright disliked them.

    “The Heiress” was made fresh off Wyler’s runaway success with “The Best Years of Our Lives.” The film, based on Henry James’ “Washington Square,” was nominated for eight Academy Awards, winning four, including Oscars for Olivia De Havilland and for Copland’s score, which is so strong it manages to maintain its integrity despite all of the studio tinkering.

    Wyler insisted Copland work the song “Plaisir d’amour” into the fabric of his music, which he artfully did in three cues. But that wasn’t good enough. Without his knowledge, the main title was replaced with a garish arrangement of “Plaisir,” which was also looped in for some of the love music. André Previn, in 1949 already one of Hollywood’s bright young talents, likened the return of Copland’s original thoughts following the interpolations to “suddenly finding a diamond in a can of Heinz beans.”

    When Copland’s contribution was recognized by the Academy, it was the only instance up to that time of a score being honored after being shorn of its main title, the part of a score that generally makes the biggest impression. Copland never bothered to collect his award. “The Heiress” would be the last time he would work in Hollywood.

    He did compose one more film score, however, for the 1961 independent film, “Something Wild,” which contains some of his most insistently non-commercial music. Occasionally brutal and often thrilling, its character is worlds away from the pastoral tranquility of “Appalachian Spring.” It’s a brilliant piece of work, yet it did not receive a commercial release until 2003.

    Copland’s music for “Our Town” and “The Red Pony” is fairly well-known, thanks to the widely performed and recorded concert suites. We’ll focus on lesser-heard music from “The Heiress” and “Something Wild,” as well as from the controversial pro-Soviet film “The North Star,” and even a little bit from the 1939 World’s Fair documentary “The City.”

    It’s a cinematic birthday cake for Aaron Copland, on “Picture Perfect,” music for the movies, now in syndication on KWAX, the radio station of the University of Oregon!

    ——–

    Clip and save the start times for all three of my recorded shows:

    PICTURE PERFECT, the movie music show – Friday at 8:00 PM EST/5:00 PM PST

    SWEETNESS AND LIGHT, the light music program – Saturday at 11:00 AM EST/8:00 AM PST

    THE LOST CHORD, unusual and neglected rep – Saturday at 7:00 PM EST/4:00 PM PST

    Stream them, wherever you are, at the link!

    https://kwax.uoregon.edu/
  • Innovative, Transformative and Indelible:  Walt Disney’s “Fantasia”

    Innovative, Transformative and Indelible: Walt Disney’s “Fantasia”

    Walt Disney’s “Fantasia” was released into theaters for the first time 85 years ago today.

    Giddy with the success of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” (1937), which became a surprise hit – the highest grossing feature up to that time (soon to be supplanted by “Gone with the Wind”) – and hoping to reinvigorate the popularity of house brand Mickey Mouse – Disney spared no expense in the creation of this bold, beautiful, mind-bending, slightly pretentious, occasionally kitschy experimental enterprise, engaging Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra to record the film’s soundtrack (mostly at Philadelphia’s Academy of Music) and, during its initial run, displaying it in special road show productions featuring souped-up “Fantasound” surround audio. This was the first feature film to be released in stereo. It ran in one venue in New York for a solid year. At a point, Disney even toyed with the idea of pumping different scents into the theater, but he must have realized it was all becoming a little too Scriabinesque.

    Eventually reality caught up. “Fantasia” was a money-loser from the start. The war in Europe cut off any possibility of overseas revenue, and it became apparent that the film would have to be reissued, with cuts, in standard format, in regular theaters, if the studio hoped to make any of its money back. As it was, it didn’t turn a profit until 1969. I suspect it was the same crowd that was buzzing to “2001: A Space Odyssey” that finally pushed “Fantasia” into the black. When adjusting for inflation, it is now the 23rd highest-grossing film in the United States. There aren’t any studios, and very few classical record companies, that would make that kind of investment in the future anymore.

    I venture to guess most people who were lucky enough to see “Fantasia” in the cinema, back in the days before home video brought an end to its regular theatrical reissues, were charmed to see Stokowski shake hands with Mickey Mouse. Even so, this is the moment that became seared into many an impressionable memory. And I know I loved it.

    https://vimeo.com/110409508

    There’s also at least one discarded sequence from the film that was completed, but then cut to keep the length down. It involved cranes and Debussy’s “Clair de lune.”

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FcpamvLB2JU&t

    You may be aware, it was Disney’s original vision to swap out sequences with new material every few years. However, this was not done until 1999, with the release of “Fantasia 2000.” Regardless of what you may think of that film, with its gallery of celebrity talking heads and James Levine stepping into Leopold Stokowski’s extra-large shoes, it lacks the resonance of the 1940 original. In any case, the project having gone stagnant for six decades, I have a hard time accepting the new stuff as canon!

    Glancing at the reissue schedule, I must have seen “Fantasia” for the first time in April 1977. I would have been ten years-old, and as I suggest, Chernabog coming out of that mountain floored me. I would have assumed that I was younger, but then I was a sensitive child. The last time I saw “Fantasia” in the theater must have been 1990.

    In 1982, the soundtrack was re-recorded in digital sound with Irwin Kostal conducting. Thankfully, a restoration in 1990 put Leopold back on the podium. Now, of course, I own the film on home video. But nothing beats the dreamy experience of viewing “Fantasia” in a theater.

    In more recent years, it’s joined the ranks of movies regularly shown at symphony orchestra concerts with live musical accompaniment. But until they clone Stokowski, I’m good. That said, if it meant introducing a young person to “Fantasia,” I’d go. I might even take them to “Fantasia 2000.” I would be thankful for any opportunity for someone to experience classical music as I did at such an impressionable age.

    A big thanks to Walt, Stoky, and Chernabog. And happy 85th, “Fantasia!”
  • “Blue Moon” Sings

    “Blue Moon” Sings

    It’s got to be Oscar season. It’s rare for me to see two movies I liked – I mean, really enjoyed – in one week. (Read my impressions of Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein” from November 6.) I mean, I don’t generally make the trek to a theater to see anything I know is going to be trash anymore – unless it’s “Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” (ouch!) or “Megalopolis.” “Blue Moon” is on a more intimate scale, but quietly thrilling in a way neither of those enormously-budgeted films were.

    Local hero Ethan Hawke, who grew up in West Windsor, NJ, and hung out in Princeton – where he attended the Hun School and gained early acting experience at McCarter Theatre – plays the acerbic, needy, soulful, brilliant lyricist Lorenz Hart, smarting from the fledgling success of his longtime creative partner, composer Richard Rodgers, on the opening night of “Oklahoma!” – Rodgers’ inaugural effort with Oscar Hammerstein II. Hart, the wound of rejection oozing like sour grapes through all the malbec and bourbon, delivers rapid-fire, barbed arias and elevated panegyrics to ineffable beauty – unsurprisingly, given his vocation, always lighting on the “mot juste.” He observes that any show that ends in an exclamation point isn’t worth seeing. He’s hard on “Oklahoma!’s” middlebrow success (and I can’t say that I disagree). He thirsts for art that’s more inventive, more challenging, one that takes creative chances. He bristles at facile lyrics such as corn that’s “as high as an elephant’s eye,” as all good folk should. Except, of course, the beauty of what Rodgers & Hammerstein achieved at their best also defies logic.

    Hart was no slouch either, if exasperatingly difficult to pin down. It’s made abundantly clear that he had to be a nightmare to work with, especially for someone as disciplined as Rodgers, with his regular work habits. By contrast, Hart enjoys the pleasures of distraction and dissipation, staying out after-hours and sleeping until noon. You couldn’t find a better example of clashing personalities sharing an inexplicable chemistry, although of course such bonds are abundant in the history of the creative arts. We’re reminded from the start that the Rodgers & Hart partnership yielded a thousand songs, including “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered,” “My Funny Valentine,” “Isn’t It Romantic,” “The Lady is a Tramp,” and the titular “Blue Moon.” The soundtrack is a juke box for admirers of the golden age of the American Songbook, with the soundtrack pretty much wall-to-wall Richard Rodgers, Irving Berlin, Jerome Kern, and George Gershwin.

    There are running gags about “Casablanca,” as Hart banters with Eddie the bartender (Bobby Cannavale), an earthy but sympathetic foil, and in-jokes about Stephen Sondheim and “Stuart Little.” E.B. White (Patrick Kennedy) happens to be sitting in a corner booth. There’s also a plum role for Magaret Qualley, as the self-described “ambisexual” Hart’s statuesque, 20-year-old muse. There’s an extended conversation in a cloakroom that allows both actors to really shine.

    Hawke, who in life is 5’ 10” with a full head of hair, disappears into the character, made to appear physically diminutive, sporting a combover and double-breasted suit, and for much of the movie, swilling booze and chomping on a monstrous cigar. (In the old days, Hart could have been played by Lionel Stander.) The illusion is broken only in a couple of shots, when he’s shown wearing a hat in profile, which obscures the make-up, and we can’t help but notice that it is indeed Ethan Hawke. Otherwise, the magic is sustained for 100 mesmerizing minutes.

    The film is directed by Richard Linklater, who’s written and/or directed mostly modest yet persistently memorable movies, including “Slacker,” “Dazed and Confused,” and “School of Rock.” I’m not by any means a rocker, but I do have a soft spot for the Jack Black opus, which I still find myself quoting often. (I too have lived the legend of the rent.) Also, the trilogy of films starring Hawke and Judy Delpy that began with “Before Sunrise.” And the even more ambitious “Boyhood,” shot in installments over 12 years, so that the actors (including Hawke, but especially the young Ellar Coltrane, who plays his son) could age in real time.

    Despite taking place largely in one location (the legendary theatrical hangout, Sardi’s), “Blue Moon” is more rapid-fire, with enough dialogue for four or five movies, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if it takes on a second life as a play. The screenplay is by Robert Kaplow, whose book, “Me and Orson Welles,” Linklater shepherded to the screen in 2008. The dialogue is very good – smart, often acrobatic, but always believable – and the actors stick every line.

    There’s a moment when Hart holds Rodgers (Andrew Scott, no less excellent) back from an upstairs reception and the two men – Rodgers now at the peak of his career and Hart sensing he is at the end of his – stand on a landing together, cycling through a gamut of emotions that color their complex personal relationship, with its shades of friction, annoyance, exasperation, and underlying affection. It is some finely tuned and nuanced work, those emotions flitting across their faces and reflected in their body language as subtly as wisps of cloud on a sunny day. Anyone who’s lived long enough has surely experienced similar moments with a complicated friend or family member. The movie is full of such touches, which stand in absorbing contrast to Hart’s alcohol-propelled bluster.

    I’ve been meaning to get around to seeing this, which I had been anticipating ever since I saw the trailer weeks ago, but I missed it in Princeton, where it had a very short run. But I was able to catch it up Route 206 at Montgomery Cinemas (where, by the way, “Frankenstein,” is also still playing). My stepfather saw it a week or two ago, and he brought it up during our most recent telephone conversation, knowing what a music guy I am. We always talk movies. We’ve done so our entire lives, and I know he gets a kick out of it, probably in large part because I still know who people like Lionel Stander are. He said he’d tell me what he thought of it once I had a chance to see it. He didn’t want to color my impressions of it, he said. To me, that suggests he was lukewarm on it. One of his most-hated experiences in a theater was viewing “My Dinner with André” (which I also really like), which is basically André Gregory and Wallace Shawn conversing at a table in a restaurant for two hours. I could see how, for him, this movie might have a touch of that, but I would think also that there are just so many period references – he’ll recognize Sardi’s and “Casablanca” and the American Songbook, even if he might not pick-up on E.B. White and Sondheim – he would at least got some enjoyment from it. I guess I’ll find out.

    Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are Academy Award nominations for Hawke, who’s come a long way from “Dead Poets Society,” and screenwriter Robert Kaplow.

    It’s the rare movie about music that I actually like. I feel like “Blue Moon” actually gets it right, largely because it avoids the Scylla and Charybdis of, on the one hand, attempting to portray the mystifying act of creation (a mostly internal, undramatic process), and on the other, attempting to define the ineffable (a word Hart really likes) essence of music.

    “Blue Moon” works as a character portrait of a fictionalized Hart, with just enough supporting players and good performances to make this pocket-dramedy sing.

  • Veteran Radio Host Jeannie Becker

    Veteran Radio Host Jeannie Becker

    I was sorry to learn, only last week, a year and a half late, that WPRB Princeton’s long-time “Sunday Jazz” host, Jeannie Becker, died on April 28, 2023. She was a lovely woman, exuding positivity, always with a smile on her face, and sporting a smooth, mellifluous radio voice. I didn’t know her well, but we swapped chairs many times when I was doing Sunday morning classical there. Her build was slight and she moved carefully, and I gather she was not in the best of health, but she was always very well put-together, and she impressed me as being remarkably youthful.

    I had no idea of Jeannie’s service in the U.S. Navy or her career at the Pentagon. Over the years, I’ve shared the airwaves with several colleagues who served in our armed forces (Ralph Collier and Bliss Michelson, among them), but to my knowledge, Jeannie is the only one who is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. She lived quite a life, and I think a fulfilling one. Thinking of her on this Veterans Day.

    https://www.lewisfuneralhomemoorestown.com/obituaries/Jeannie-Becker/#!/Obituary

  • Morricone’s Fistful of Felines

    Morricone’s Fistful of Felines

    The insanely prolific Ennio Morricone composed some 500 film and television scores. Remembering him on his birthday with this lesser-known gem, his theme for “The Cat” (1977), a giallo-comedy – not to be confused with the straight giallo “The Cat o’ Nine Tails” (1971) or the comedy “Eye of the Cat” (1975), which features a cat named Wolfgang Amadeus! – both of which he also scored.

    “The Cat,” produced by Sergio Leone, with whom Morricone galloped to international fame with “A Fistful Full of Dollars,” “For a Few Dollars More,” and “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly,” was one of 11 movies he scored in 1977.

    Be forewarned: once listened to, “The Cat” will be with you for the rest of the day.

    Happy birthday, Ennio Morricone!

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGBxzofJo7c&t

    ———

    PHOTO: Morricone recording “The Exorcist II: The Heretic,” also 1977

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