Random Five: Best Cinema Experiences of 2019

Just a quick run through the best of this year’s flicks as seen in a cinema or theatre. Just films or documentaries I had to make some effort to go out to see. Therefore, it does not include Netflix options, or any others viewed from the plush comfort of the everythingsgonegreen lounge. Or indeed, in the case of the excellent Chills documentary, any viewed from the cramped confines of an international flight.

Amazing Grace

I raved about this one here and it was truly exceptional. As close to a religious experience as I’ve ever had. Well, inside four walls anyway, without chemical assistance, but let’s not dwell on that point too much. 29-years-young Aretha Franklin is the star of this Sydney Pollack-directed documentary covering her two-day/night performance stint at the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Los Angeles in January of 1972. A performance that doubled as the recording session(s) for the best-selling gospel album of all-time. Not a biopic, but a grainy flaws-n-all film that captures a mere snapshot of a moment in time. But what a moment it is. Not only the best music-related film I viewed all year, one of the best I’ve seen over the past decade.

Wild Rose 

This was a pleasant surprise. I went to it without much knowledge of what I was about to see. A young solo Mum with a troubled past (Jessie Buckley as Rose-Lynn Harlan), dreams of becoming a country music star in Nashville. The only problem is she’s in Glasgow, fresh out of prison, and struggling to put her life back on track. Julie Walters plays Marion, a firm but generally supportive mother to Rose-Lynn, and the film is as much about family dynamics and responsibilities as it is about trying to make it in show business. But no spoilers here, suffice to say Buckley is outstanding in this Tom Harper-directed festival hit. 

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood

I had built this one up in my mind as a “must see” long before it was released. And that’s never a good thing to do. Tarantino, DiCaprio, Pitt, plus any number of sneaky cameos … what could possibly go wrong? Quite a bit, as it turns out. First things first, the positives: the setting is late 60s Hollywood (clue in the title, huh) and Tarantino’s attention to period/location detail is sublime. Each of the leading men are outstanding. DiCaprio as a fading star, Pitt as his stunt guy and close buddy. Pacino’s cameo is also great. Now, the negatives: it was too long, meandering, and for all of the style, I felt it generally lacked real substance. I think if you’re going to pull actual events from history (Manson family killings) and incorporate them into your work of fiction, you may as well try to portray those events as accurately as possible. Quentin Tarantino didn’t do that. It was a bastardised account of what actually happened. I also felt the occasional narration was odd and seemingly a bit random. But I did enjoy it immensely for the style and the soundtrack, naturally, as it wouldn’t otherwise be on this list.

Jojo Rabbit

Taika Waititi is a special talent. Not only as a director but as an actor. Both extraordinary talents are showcased in Jojo Rabbit, Waititi’s quirky screen adaption of the previously little known Christine Leunens novel, Caging Skies (2008). It’s the story of Jojo, wonderfully played by Roman Griffin Davis, a young boy growing up in World War 2-era Nazi Germany. Jojo, notionally a Hitler Youth recruit, has an imaginary friend – a mostly amusing version of Adolf Hitler (played by Waititi) – and a mother (Scarlett Johansson) who is secretly hiding a young Jewish girl in the family’s attic. That’s the basic premise, and the launch pad for any number of dark and satirical sub-plots to be enjoyed on a reality-suspending superficial level. Just don’t scratch too far below that surface … while I did enjoy it for its comedy and escapism, I can also understand criticism the film received due to a perceived lack of empathy for the genuine horror of events like the holocaust.

Ride Like A Girl

Horse racing seems to be attracting a lot of negative feedback lately, but I’m just going to come out here and say it – I’m a big fan of the sport of kings. If you know me well, you’ll know I love nothing more than heading out to small country racecourses – the smaller and more isolated the better – on balmy summer days to take in a little bit of horse on horse action (ooooer!). Yes, yes, I hear the “woke” arguments around problems within the thoroughbred industry, and I could present you with a few counter arguments, but this is neither the time nor place. I went to Ride Like A Girl because I love horses, I love underdog stories, and I love a bit of regional history. Ride Like A Girl is the story of Michelle Payne (played by Teresa Palmer), who became the first woman jockey to ride a Melbourne Cup winner – aboard 100-1 New Zealand-bred outsider Prince of Penzance – in 2015. As such it is a true story about female empowerment, about overcoming prejudice, about role-modelling, and about breaking down long-entrenched barriers. Sam Neill excels as Paddy Payne, Michelle’s Dad. Directed by Rachel Griffiths, it was my “feelgood” movie of the year, and I may or may not have had a seriously annoying lump in my throat at its conclusion.

Amazing Grace ...

I’m not Christian, and I don’t really believe in anything like a God or any sort of higher power. If anything, I’d describe myself as a humanist, without ever really being able to fully explain quite what that means other than the fact that I believe in science first and foremost, and my definition of “faith” is something akin to a personal code or an inner monologue to live life by. It’s complicated, but I do struggle with the idea that there’s some form of invisible force beyond that. Beyond science, or beyond a personal moral code. I think organised religion is controlling, manipulative, and the source of much global division. That much seems clear, to me, at least. 

However, I’ve written a little bit in the past (here) about how Rastafarianism as it relates to reggae music has impacted on me, and about how songs of praise or worship can be hugely invigorating and empowering for me on a personal level. Even if a lot of the reggae music deals with a mythical African King/Emperor I have very little understanding of, and certainly no first-hand experience of.

Equally, there’s something very compelling about black American gospel music. Something very powerful, and it’s never impacted upon me more than it did a couple of weeks back when I sat down inside a small - almost empty - inner city Sydney cinema to watch Amazing Grace, the Sydney Pollack-directed documentary about Aretha Franklin’s two-day/night performance stint at the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Los Angeles back in January of 1972. 

Those performances doubled as recording sessions, and those recordings formed the core of Franklin’s iconic live album, Amazing Grace. Franklin was assisted by the Reverend James Cleveland and the Southern California Community Choir, but she’s the star. Or rather, her phenomenal voice is the star. It was as pure as honey in 1972, with Aretha still just a few months shy of her 30^th birthday. 

The album was released later that year, and it went on to become the best-selling album of Franklin’s entire career, and the best-selling “gospel” album of all-time. It includes a mix of traditional gospel songs (‘Climbing Higher Mountains’, ‘God Will Take Care of You’, etc) and more recent fare like adaptations of the Carole King-penned ‘You’ve Got a Friend’ and Marvin Gaye’s ‘Wholy Holy’, which had appeared on Gaye’s What’s Going On masterpiece of a year earlier. 

The release of Pollack’s raw grainy video/documentary footage, initially around 20-hours all up, proved to be far more problematic. There were issues aplenty, not the least of which was an inability to sync the audio with the video, something that was eventually achieved by some post-production miracle. After that, it was Franklin’s own reluctance to allow the edited version (something close to 90 minutes) to see the light of day which ensured the documentary was shelved for more than 40 years. Which, given how utterly inspirational most of that footage is, seems rather incredible. 

After Franklin died in August of 2018 her family gave the go ahead for the film’s release and it immediately became a festival hit, going on to achieve worldwide/mainstream release status in April of 2019. 

I was fully engrossed in Amazing Grace from start to finish. 90 minutes of virtual wall-to-wall gospel music. I was in complete awe of Franklin. In awe of MC James Cleveland. And in awe of the articulate preacher/Baptist Minister Clarence Franklin, Aretha’s father, who made a short cameo appearance (as did one Mick Jagger, as part of the gathered throng watching on). In awe of those songs. Songs of praise to a higher being I don’t even believe in. 

I left that cinema completely enthralled by the power of that music. If that’s what a true religious experience is meant to feel like, then sign, seal, and deliver me to the promised land. I’m ready. Well, almost … I may have just got a little bit carried away. 

Highly recommended. Unmissable, even.

Film Review: The Chills - The Triumph and Tragedy of Martin Phillipps

Craig Stephen watched The Chills: The Triumph and Tragedy of Martin Phillipps, in Wellington …

The first time we see Martin Phillipps, the one continuum of The Chills since its inception in 1980, is at a hospital in Dunedin, where he is being prodded, scanned and injected for a series of health tests. Phillipps has Hepatitis C, which he contracted by accident from a dirty needle (listen up kids: don’t do drugs) during his substance-hoovering days (of which there were many). 

The prognosis isn’t good. Phillipps’ liver is 80 percent defunct and he has a 31 percent chance of surviving beyond the next 6-9 months if he doesn’t go teetotal. The check-up takes place at the end of 2016 and we travel with him throughout his brave bid to free himself of the disease, and cleanse himself from the demon drink (listen up kids: don’t do booze, well not whisky on the rocks for breakfast anyway). 

While this conjures up images of a hellraiser, which aren’t exactly dispelled by the singer, we soon see a side of him that we may not have expected - the hoarder, with a huge collection of DVDs, records, CDs, books, artefacts, and toys. Yes, toys. Phillipps lives alone and his collecting obsession, he admits, is partially to compensate him for the isolated living situation. 

As part of the cathartic experience of trying to save his life, Phillipps embarks on a mission to rid himself of some of this collection. Among this extraordinarily vast collection - some of which is included in an exhibition in Dunedin - are mummified cats which he paints then sticks on boards before hanging on the wall. He has also kept a tray of decapitated eggshells which he has painted. 

Interspersed with this personal illumination on a somewhat eccentric character is the story of The Chills, undoubtedly one of New Zealand’s most influential bands. In four decades, The Chills have gone through 21 different line-ups and more than 30 members. In that sense alone they have an historical link to The Fall, led by another hard-drinking eccentric.

Phillipps hasn’t always treated his colleagues terribly well, and near the end of the documentary confesses to having failed some and apologises (if not effusively it has to be said) for not supporting them when he could. One such sad tale is that of the multi-talented Andrew Todd. The keyboardist bailed when it was clear he was getting neither the respect from his colleague nor job satisfaction from what he was doing with the band. Todd isn’t interviewed but many others are, including Terry Moore, who had three spells with the act, and one extremely unlikely member, Phil Kusabs who had a background in death metal acts before joining the “twee indie band”. 

We learn of the death of an early band member, Martyn Bull, who before he succumbed to leukaemia, gave Phillipps his prized leather jacket, leading to The Chills’ legendary ‘I Love My Leather Jacket’ single. There was a serious car collision with a truck on a small bridge, in which everyone remarkably survived, personality clashes, and debt. Phillipps comes across as personable and driven, but also possibly narcissistic. 

Director Julia Parnell also talks to former managers of the band, as well one of the few musical superstars from Aotearoa, Neil Finn, who offers rather little insight other than a few platitudes. 

Around 1990, The Chills were making inroads into America and the album Submarine Bells was a massive hit. But it soon fell apart, and Phillipps was back in Dunedin left to ponder once again another incarnation of the band. 

The fact that there have been numerous versions of the same band since, and The Chills recorded their finest effort for many years, Snow Bound, in 2018, speaks volumes for the toughness and commitment of Phillipps and the musicians who have stood by him. 

Near the end of the film Phillipps returns to see the same medic in the same hospital and is informed that there are now no signs of Hepatitis C. Onwards to the next Chills studio album. 

Film Review: Into The Void, a documentary by Margaret Gordon

NZ Musician has published my review of Into The Void, Margaret Gordon’s wonderful documentary about the Christchurch band of the same name. The film was a festival hit as long ago as 2014, but was finally released on DVD last week. The documentary has music at its core, but more than anything it’s a study of the human condition, a story about friendship, and a tale of survival against a mountain of odds … check it out (trailer in link):

https://nzmusician.co.nz/features/dvd-review-into-the-void/

Quite often, the very best music documentaries are those about artists or bands otherwise ignored by the mainstream. The real grassroots stuff, behind-the-scenes warts ‘n all stories focusing rather more on the flaws and frailties of the human condition. Which is precisely where Margaret Gordon’s oddball and frequently hilarious independent documentary about Christchurch noise merchants Into The Void fits. The film gained festival plaudits back in 2014 but is only now getting a more wide-reaching, deserved, DVD release.

For 25 years, from the late ‘80s through to 2014, Into The Void were mainstays of the Christchurch music scene. If not exactly as heart of the scene, then most definitely as life and soul of the many parties. The first thing we learn about the band is that they all like a drink. Or twelve.

The second is that they’re far more comfortable playing live than they are in the recording studio. Whether on stage at the Dux de Lux or at Lyttelton’s Wunderbar, or within the confines of their now demolished (post-earthquakes) inner-city band practice room.

Across the course of that 25-year period, the band, originally a quartet that morphed into a sextet, released just two albums. An eponymously titled debut on Flying Nun in 1993, and a self-released follow-up some 11 years later. But that part feels almost superfluous to this story, and the really good oil here comes as each band member offers an insight into their lives together.

There’s vocalist Ronnie van Hout, a conceptual artist who now lives in Melbourne. Guitarist Jason Greig, a self-confessed metal tragic, and another artist, whose own unique area of speciality is creating “prints of darkness”. Drummer Mark Whyte, a sculptor and all round funny guy. And then there’s Paul Sutherland, an eccentric “turntablist” who seems perfectly comfortable with the fact that the rest of the band can never really hear what he’s playing. So long as there’s nobs and gadgets to fiddle with, he’s more than happy. That’s the original four, with Galaxy Records owner Dave Imlay (bass), and James Greig (guitar) – cousin of Jason – being later additions.

Gordon makes good use of archive footage of the band at various stages of its existence – from the early ‘90s through to its post-earthquake vintage – and near the end we see the band playing to a small outdoor evening crowd on a vacant lot. But not just any vacant lot, it’s the exact spot their precious band practice room once stood. It’s a special moment as Jason Greig’s final heartfelt solo rings out into the Christchurch night air.

Throughout the 70-minute documentary, we get tidbits of gold from various friends and contemporaries, among them members of bands like the Terminals and the Dead C. More poignantly there’s some classic footage of onetime band manager Celia Mancini (R.I.P.) who tragically passed in 2017.

More than any of that though, Into The Void is a story about a group of mates who just enjoyed each other’s company. For 25 years. Drinking, smoking, falling over, laughing, surviving earthquakes, and playing music as loud as humanly possible.

Margaret Gordon offers just enough on each band member, so we feel as though we might know them by the end. At the very least, we all know someone just like them, and that’s the real triumph of this film.