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The Other Paper Page 15 Flick Review Continued THE KEYSTONE KOPS OF THE NIXON ERA Heat, the latest product of the Warhol factory, is an amazingly honest and funny movie about a group of floundering has-beens, near psychopaths, and morons, set in a cheap L.A. motel and a ticky- tack “Hollywood Hills” mansion. Because the Warhol chic-decadent scene puts out such faddish, nasty and even reactionary vibes, it would have been a pleasure to dismiss the film as exploitative crap — except that it is too enter taining and affecting not to be taken seriously. It has never been easy to deter mine exactly where Andy Warhol leaves off and Paul Morrissey (his long-time cameraman) begins. Warhol is credited with no creative role in the making of Heat, and claims that he hasn’t seen it. Yet Heat is clearly a Warhol picture, partaking of his instantly recognizable ambience, at once lethargic and hysterical, an endless chattering freak-out. Warhol is becoming something like Walt Disney, whose name also stood for a set of qualities present in everything that came out of his fac tories, although Disney himself could not even draw his famous signature. Unlike Disn.ey studios, the Warhol-Morrissey combination has shown coherent artistic development and growth. The first films (Eat, Sleep, Haircut) were cult items, more interesting to talk about than to watch. Warhol’s dadaesque concept of passive director and passive camera grew more intersting only with the emergence of the Superstars: com pulsive types who could talk as long as there was film in the camera; these elaborately defensive people were most alive when rationalizing their existence to an indifferent machine. They were also tremendously en tertaining rappers. Even if their lives were as vacuous and stale as a TV rerun, they projected a sense of life’s comic triviality in a way that made most filmed “realism” look pompous and theatrical by com parison. As Morrissey took over as direc tor, he gave the films plots and structure, developed improvisatory techniques, and introduced the spirit of Warhol’s passivity directly into the films, in the person of Joe Dallesandro, the still point among the swirl of frenzied rappers, an almost inert sexual icon against whom the other characters project their needs and frustrations. Dallesandro has a pleasant, rather dull personality, a glottal- stopped New York mumble, very A Fily By A SEPARATE PEACE Reviewed by Tom Brom Alternative Features Service little acting ability, and a face and ass that are the refined essence of a muscle magazine. In Heat he plays an ex-child star who insinuates himself into an affair with a fading movie queen, hoping she will promote his comeback. It’s a self consciouS remake of Sunset Boulevard; but while Gloria Swan son’s movie queen was a tragic figure, played in grand'Style, Sylvia Miles’ ex-star in Heat merely makes a living as a panelist on TV quiz shows, smokes like a demon, and cannot afford the upkeep on her Bel Air mansion. At other times, Joe is seen in his motel relating to a varied group of freaks, all rapping a mile a minute, including M iles’ hysterical teenaged daughter, who carries her baby in a tote bag and sports cigarette burns on her breasts. There is no way to describe the plot that doesn't make it sound A Separate Peace, John Knowles’ thin little novel of the 1960’s, was what book reviewers call a “small masterpiece”—an original treat ment of a slight subject, only a few pages longer than a short story. Knowles explored the com plexities of a relationship between two upper class boys at Phillips Exeter prep school, each healthy, engergetic and popular. His theme was the dark side of “the friends of my youth”, the best friend anyone will ever have. But the inherent com p etition and incipient homosexual love in that relation ship ended in murder, and lifelong remorse for the survivor. From Larry Peerce’s lush, in dulgent, and finally pretentious film no one would ever guess the original nut was that small. And Knowles’ small masterpiece simply can’t bear the weight of all the ex cess baggage. The first “curve” Peerce throws is to emphasize time and place at Devon (Phillips Exeter), using rich color and the wide screen to evoke as much nostalgic mileage as possible from the pre-World War II setting. That aspect of the film is a virtual remake of The Summer o f ’42, however nicely contrived the scenes, and is irrelevant to the cen tral relationship. By far the strongest element of the film is John Heyl’s perfor mance as Phinny, the immensely likeable “leader of the band\. He can rally his classmates with a shout, and leads the more intellec tual Gene (Parker Stevenson) like a pup through campus romps and school athletics. Phinny and Gene play engaging enough characters, but most operate in the shadow of a large tree from which Gene causes Phinny to fall. Peerce makes that poor popular gigantic, literally and symbolically. Shot from low camera angles, it fills the screen and is.repeatedly inserted through flashbacks. The tree steals the show, hung with God-knows-what meaning to represent Original Sin, or World II, or a huge phallus, or an uncaring universe. . The relationship between the two boys is shown mostly in hor seplay, batting each other around, running and tumbling through a dozen sports, darting everyone in sight to jump out of that tree. They are beautiful to watch, like exuberant young animals totally occupied with the serious business of playing. But the character development goes nowhere, and despite Peerce’s mean foreshadowing that something awful is going to happen in the tree, it comes as something of a shock when Gene dumps his buddy out. Ignoring Gene’s anguished con fession, the crippled Phinny becomes Gene’s personal athletic coach. Only after a mock trial to hopelessly ridiculous. It is ridiculous. But the cast’s willingness to be ridiqulous allows them to expose parts of the ego that most movies ignore. They go through intricate shouting matches (“whaddaya mean what do I mean?”) tangled enough to rival a Marx Brothers routine, but flat, banal and honest. They certainly fit in well with the times. Their bored, second hand relation to experience, which would have seemed needlessly per- ferse in the sixties, feels recognizable familier in the present deflated atmosphere. The Warhol troupe are the Keystone Kops of the Nixon era, executing put-downs and ego-trips as though they were chases and pratfalls, careening through themes and variations on their wasted lives and coming back for more with astounding resiliency. determine the cause of the fall, and an accidental second tumble, will Phinny understand. It’s a long film, describing much more than it needs to, and not nearly enough of what it should. The cameras roam all over Devon, into the classrooms and dor mitories and across the football and lacrosse fields, but never crack the essential mystery of the boys’ relationship. Certainly that is much more difficult to explore. But Larry Peerce loses the trees for the forest from the start, making a Big Picture from a small tragedy. A Separate Peace is crushed under the w e ight. DISC REVIEW CONTINUED CHUCK BARRY GOLDEN DECADE HORACE & HAROLD MUSIC SPECTACULAR Allmans Breakup-Duane’s Spirit Lives Duane Allman, lead player and driving force behind the Allman Brothers Band was killed in - a motorcycle accident in October of 1971. The band continued to play with lead player Dicky Betts until their bass player, Barry Oakley was killed, ironically enough in a bike crash, just blocks away from Duane’s in November of this year. Unforunately, the Band has since broken up with members going their separate ways. Recently however, Capricorn Records has compiled an excellent arid lasting tribute to Duane’s musical accom plishments by releasing a two record set entitled \D u a n e Allman, An Anthology”. The package contains material dating from Duane’s earliest recordings in 1966 to those complete in the summer of 1971. The two records include many excellent slide and bottleneck guitar cuts on many of which Duane is backing up other musicians including Are tha Franklin, Wilson Pickett arid Carence Carter. Before the formation of the Allman Brothers, Duane worked in various studios, until in 1967 he and his brother, Gregg, joined a group called Hourglass. The first cut on the album, a B.B. King Medley, is done by the Hourglass (with Duane playing, lead). Its a stunning opening cut - all seven minutes of it. The medley features \Sweet Little Angel”, It’s My Own Fault”, and \How Blue Can You Get”. The second and third cuts feature Duane backing up Wilson Pickett doing “Hey Jude and Clarence Carter singing \The Road of Love”, a funky blues type number. The final cut, and possibly the best in the set is a blues tune sung (one of the few he ever sang on) and played by Duane entitled “Going Down Slow”. Side two opens up with an old Band number entitled \The Weight” done by Aretha Franklin, followed by King Curtis’s in strumental “Games People Play” on which Duane plays slide guitar as well as electrical sitar. The next cut, taken from John Hammonds “Southern Fried” album is a fast rocker quite unlike the next song, a Boz Scaggs tune entitled “Loan Me a Dime” which is a brilliant blues composition built up by Duane’s cutting guitar riffs and Scaggs’ introduction of horns. The final track, “Rollin Stone” done by Jerry Jenkins is a slow blues , number written by blues veteran McKinley Morgansfield. The third side passes quickly, beginning with Delany and Bon nie’s “Livin on the Open Road” accented by Duane’s searing slide guitar-guitar work that made him one of the beS. Another Johnny Jenkins cut, this one a bit slower paced entitled “All Along the Cove” follows the Delany and Bonnie number. A soft, acoustic “Please be With Me” by the unknown Cowboys follows the Jenkins cut. The next two tracks, one an unreleased Clapton tune entitled “Mean Old World”, the other the title track from the Layla album close the side. Again, some excellent guitar work by Duane ac companied by Eric’s usual brilliant guitar on \Mean Old World , \Layla” recorded by the now defunct Derek and the Dominoes speaks for itself. Now for side four, which is a collection of Allman Brothers material dating from their tirst album. Statesborough blues their usual concert opener, taken from their “Live at the Fillmore” set is a by Cosmic Charlie tight, fast tune sung by brother Gregg. \Don’t Keep Me Won derin’’ orginally appeared on their second album, Ole Wile South but a live version previously unreleased and recorded at one of their many Fillmore appearances appears on this album. The live cut is definitely a marked im provement from the studio version. “Standback” is taken from \Eat a Peach”, Duane’s last recorded album. He plays both lead and slide guitars. The haunting, mellow \Dreams” follows “Standback\. The last song on the album, a short instrumental piece with Dickey Betts playing acoustic guitar and Duane on slide is entitled “Little Martha”. The overall album is generally quite good. The sound quality is also excellent and the booklet in cluded with the anthology contains some interesting pictures, a brief history and background of Duane’s recording past and a list of musicians, recording dates, and the albums the cuts are taken from. The albums’ only real fault is the fact that, like most greatest hit albums it lacks the wholeness and spirit a tight Allman Brothers album gives you. Also no selec tions from flute player Herbie Manns “Push Push” album were included. This is unfortunate since Duane and Herbie created an in teresting sound. But, by and large the album is a fitting tribute to Duane’s many accomplishments and inovations he created in his brief recording career. It is for tunate, however, that Capricorn Records has decided to put together most of Duane’s better works into one complete set rather than to continue releasing second rate albums as in the case of the late Jimi Hendrix. CONTINUED “My Ding-a-Ling\ and a top ten LP, \The Chuck Berry London Sessions”. But the key to Berry’s current success lies in the fact that, with riding the rock & roll nostalgia craze of the past year, he has been able to pick up new fans tired of the “heavy” blues-acid groups of the past five years. New fans who have discovered the driving Berry beat, a beat that doesn’t knock you down, but makes you feel good, that makes you want to dance all night. Chess Records has treated these early Berry hits well, in that 2 dif ferent sets are available that can give the new Berry fan the com plete spectrum of the Berry genius. If you are a little pressed for dough, and want the essential Chuck Berry, try to search for a copy of the single LP, Chuck Berry’s Greatest Hits. A little easier to obtain, and a record that provides the complete Berry, is the recently reissued Chuck Berry’s Golden Decade. This LP contains unparalleled material, some of it the greatest rock ever recorded. The titles, individually, speak for themselves: Maybelline, Berry’s first hit from 1955, it was con sidered hard rock back then, it still is today. That’s one of the areas where Berry stands out from other singers of this period, his music is not dated, it is as fresh today as it was fifteen years ago. There’s Thirty Days, in which Berry digs at judges and courts. No Money Down, where he chides salesmen and in particular, used cars dealers, Too Much Monkey Business, a message to the older generation. And how about School Days, where Berry accurately documents the after school dance sessions of this period, Rock and Roll Music, a more than adequate defense of the music, Sweet Little Sixteen, a song telling the story of a groupie (I guess they had them back then too) that has gone fanatically wild over rock and its idols, Johnny B. Goode, about a rock superstar, Memphis, where Berry sings an ode to a six year old girl named Marie. Whether this is his daughter or little sister is not made clear in the lyric. Other cuts include his later hits Nadine, and No Particular Place To Go, as well as material like Carol, Brown Eyed Handsome Man, Back In the U.S.A., Reelin & Rockin, and many, many, more. Roll Over Beethoveen, my per sonal Berry favorite, is the record that may be what rock & roll is all about. It is undoubtably one of the most recorded rock songs of all time, and its message is to be con strued as a signal of the fact that rock and roll was here, and here to stay. It is good to see the younger audience, many of whom never heard of Berry, are finally begin ning to discover and respect his music. What he represents is real rock music, no gimmicks, no' distorted amps, no recording studio tricks, no electronic effects, just the raw product. This is why Chuck Berry and his music have endured in the seventeen years since Maybelline, and will con tinue for many, many years to come.
