Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen,
2015
Images from the Internet
Executive Producer Rob Johnstone
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Prism Films / Chrome Dreams Media
114 minutes, 2012
www.chromedreams.co.uk
www.MVDvisual.com
Images from the Internet
The reason I put these two reviews
together is because they both deal with different perspectives of the same
group of people in overlapping time periods, essentially from 1966 through
1978. Though both have different viewpoints and distribution companies, they
really are companions as both are British release documentaries from the same parent
enterprise and have an Executive Producer in common. The second DVD listed here actually was released first, but I reviewed them in the order I watched them.
Bob Dylan and the Band: Down
in the Flood – Associations and Collaborations
(aka
Down in the Flood: Bob Dylan, The Band
& The Basement Tapes) Executive Producer Rob Johnstone
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Prism Films / Chrome Dreams Media
114 minutes, 2012
www.chromedreams.co.uk
www.MVDvisual.com
The
title of this documentary is a bit misleading as it focuses not so much on the
Zimmer-Man as much as the group that would first become famous backing him up,
The Band. Actually, the documentary’s narrator, Thomas Arnold, vocalizes the
“elevator pitch” of just what this DVD is about in one sentence: “This is the
story of the relationship between Dylan and the Hawks, their reinvention of
American Music at the close of the ‘60s, and the legendary amateur recordings
they made together in Woodstock: The
Basement Tapes.”
It
all starts in the mysterious Deep South of the early ‘60s when rockabilly rebel
Ronnie Hawkins gathered a band together and called them The Hawks. The Beatles
were breaking and rockabilly was fading fast. That is when the call came from
Toronto and Hawkins and the Hawks move to our friendly neighbor to the north.
With attrition (and probably some work visa issues), the band is replaced one
by one by Canadians, with the exception of the drummer, some guy named Levon
Helm (d. 2012). Perhaps you’ve heard of him? The rest of the new group
consisted of Rick Danko (bass; d. 1999), Garth Hudson (keyboard / sax), Richard
Manuel (piano; d. 1986), and Robbie Robertson (guitar).
When
The Hawks outgrew Hawkins’ rockabilly sound and struck out on their own just a
couple of years later, they would eventually rename themselves The Band,
outshining Hawkins with their own illustrious career.
Hooking
up with Bob Dylan after his motorcycle accident in 1966, Dylan talked the Hawks
into moving to Woodstock, NY (a very lovely, quaint and New Age-y town that is
miles from where the so-called Woodstock Festival was held). They all moved
into a house with pink exterior which they dubbed The Big Pink, which would
eventually be the name of The Band’s first solo record after Dylan abandoned
them once he got what he wanted. To date, 138 of their sessions, taped by
Hudson, would emerge and be called The Basement
Tapes, for obvious reasons. Decades before the release was official, the
Tapes were floating around as a 2-LP bootleg. I still remember listening to it
in a friend’s house in the early ‘70s. It was in a plain white cover with a
stamp that read Great White Wonder. I
recall the quality of the records not being that good, as it was probably
several generations down the road.
Dylan
does play a recurring role in the story of The Band, but that’s pretty much it.
He used the group to help get him figure out the direction he wanted, and then
dropped them to record his next LP, John
Wesley Harding, and using studio musicians in their stead, without the
people who had just spent all that time with him. This would apparently become
a pattern with Bobby, using The Band as his touring group, and then dropping
them before reaching the studio. On the other hand, this kind of forced The
Band to strike out on their own, borrowing what they learned in that basement,
and releasing their seminal first folk rock album, The Big Pink. It also contained their first – and one of their
biggest – hits, “The Weight” (a song I really
do not like, but I digress…).
The Big Pink would
quickly be considered a classic album, a trendsetter in Americana roots rock
(hence the “reinvention of American Music” comment above), and blast them into
the A-list. While “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” was also a huge hit,
they never really came up to the level of Big
Pink status again.
As
happens with most bands, a power struggle emerges, in this case between
Robertson and Helm, along with a few deaths here and there, and The Band
dissolves into history not as much with a whimper but a bang, thanks in part to
the release of the Martin Scorsese-directed final The Band concert, The Last Waltz, as infamous for its
guest musicians (e.g., Dylan, Joni, Neil, Ronnie) as for the group’s last
hurrah. All in all, the life and death of The Band really never touched me, as
I always found them kind of uninteresting, even while recognizing their talent
as musicians.
As
with most of the prodigious series of documentaries put out by the Chrome Dream
company (there’s over a dozen of just Dylan alone), the film is not just a
collection of comments: there are multiple clips, both live (including arenas
with Dylan and by themselves, their appearances on Saturday Night Live, and clips from The Last Waltz) and commentaries by various writers and critics
(many of them British), musicians and technicians, with both first and second
hand anecdotes and theories. Of course, it’s the first-hand anecdotes that
attracted the most of my attention, such as Hawkins, Mickey Jones (who played
drums during their 1968 world tour), The Band’s early producer John Simon,
Nashville session guitarist Charley McCoy (Blonde
on Blonde, John Wesley Harding, Nashville Skyline), and the one who
interested me the most, Garth Hudson, who was known for both recording The Basement
Tapes and also credited for giving The Band their sound. As is common with
Chrome Dreams releases, there are few women who are questioned, making this a
testosterone-driven doc; this is a comment I’ve made before, and I’m sadly
probably going to posit again.
While
I’ll never be a fan of the Band, it’s still good to get a history of them
that’s somewhat thorough, and that’s one thing about this series, they really
tend do delve into minutia through clips, interviews and theory. I’m glad
they’re keeping track.
Bob Dylan: After the Crash 1966-1978
(Special Edition 2 Disc Set)
Executive Producers Rob Johnstone and Andy Cleland
Narrated by Mandy O’Neale
Pride Films / Chrome Dreams Media
DVD: Disc 1: 118 minutes, 2005 / 2013
CD: Disc 2: 50 minutes 1971 / 2013
This
DVD is especially interesting to watch after the one above, because even though
they cover essentially the same timeframe, and have in some respects the same
format, the focus is incredibly different.Executive Producers Rob Johnstone and Andy Cleland
Narrated by Mandy O’Neale
Pride Films / Chrome Dreams Media
DVD: Disc 1: 118 minutes, 2005 / 2013
CD: Disc 2: 50 minutes 1971 / 2013
Again
we approach Dylan after his motorcycle crash in 1966, but this time we hear
some skepticism about whether it even happened the way Dylan explained by his
friend, Al Aronowitz (d. 2005; I had the opportunity to meet Al once a year or
two before he passed at an Andy Pratt / Moogy Klingman [d. 2011] show in New
York City the night I got kicked out of a Starbucks; but I digress…). Either
way, it infamously led to Dylan holing himself in a house in Woodstock, NY with
a group of guys called the Hawks who would soon change their name to The Band.
Funny
thing is, in this story, the equally infamous Basement Tapes that came out of that are just a blip in this
telling of the story. The Band gets little shrift here, even when they are
backing him on tours, the exception of which is towards the end when they show
a clip of Dylan and the Band playing the group’s last show in Martin Scorsese’s
The Last Waltz (1975); it’s the same
clip from the other DVD, “Baby Let Me Follow You Down.”
The
story here follows Dylan through his Nashville albums, such as John Wesley Harding and Nashville Skyline, the latter in 1969. This
is accompanied by a clip of Dylan singing a duet of “Girl from the North
Country” with Johnny Cash on Cash’s ABC television show (which is also shown in
the other DVD).
One
major difference between this DVD and many of the others from this label is
that there are a remarkably fewer musical clips here, and a lot more talking
head interviews. As this one originally came out a few years earlier, perhaps
they were still developing the “formula” for this series? While hearing the
music is great, it also can see seen as padding to make these longer, and at
near two hours, I’ll take the info and be as happy as if there were snippets of
songs (they never ever play full
numbers, just 10-30 seconds each).
One
thing I also like about the Chrome Dream series is that while they’re happy to
lionize the artist in focus, there is also a level of honesty, even on the
negative side. For example, for Dylan’s show with the Band at the 1969 Isle of
Wight Festival, Aronowitz tells a story of why Dylan was an hour late due to a sound
system issue; this is contrasted by Ray Foulk, the Festival’s organizer who
blames the Band for playing too long and that it was only starting an hour later
than scheduled. Much like the folkies not expecting Dylan to go electric, the
Festival fans were not expecting his new country style, leading to bad reviews
from press there.
Another
example of this frankness is British music journalist Nigel Williamson (he
appears regularly on Chrome Dream documentaries), who plainly states about
Dylan’s Self Portrait LP, “It’s
almost as if he deliberately set out to make an album that everyone would hate.”
For New Morning, Nigel calls it a
“good rather than great” album.
Around
this time in the story, we are introduced to AJ Weberman, a fan who claims he
was Dylan’s friend that searched Dylan’s garbage trying to find clues about song
meanings. This led to some angry (and both pathetic and funny at the same time)
phone calls in 1971 from Dylan asking Weberman to cease and desist. At some
point Dylan physically beat Weberman up, something that would have been all
over the television now; then again, Weberman couldn’t do what he did
(harassment) either.
The
phone calls, which Weberman recorded, have been available as bootlegs for
decades, and are collected here in an accompanying CD, licensed to the
documentary directly from Weberman. I found it fascinating to listen to
Weberman, who is interviewed (probably part of the deal of the rights, as he
comes across as a strange yet narcissistic man). This is part of the story of
Dylan that has fascinated me, so it’s nice to actually see Weberman in the
(digital) flesh, as he humorously claims he is starting the Bob Dylan Liberation Front against
Dylan’s newer styles. I find it curious that in all the information that is
flowing through this DVD, there is no mention of Dylan’s manager, Albert
Grossman (d. 1986), a usually sore topic for Weberman.
There
is some digging into Dylan’s only Asylum Records release Planet Waves (after pressure from David Geffen), a 1974 tour after
8 years off the road, the more successful Blood
on the Tracks in 1975, and his Desire LP in the film, but it feels more
informational and chronological that delving. For the deeper look, they discuss
Sam Peckinpah’s Pat Garrett & Billy
the Kid, which was Dylan’s first acting role (and the first and only film I
ever saw stoned on weed). The film is looked at critically, but we see no clips
other than the trailer, which has a brief shot of Dylan. In other words, for
all the talking, there is very little imagery other than concerning the
accompanying album. Weirdly, no verbal mention or musical clip is made of the
biggest hit on the soundtrack (and one of my fave songs of later-day Dylan),
“Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.”
The
next big piece in the story detailed here is the Rolling Thunder Review, a tour
that started out successfully and fell under the weight of its own success and
Dylan’s boredom. We see it through the eyes of Dylan’s band leader for the
show, Rob Stoner (nee Rothstein; I still have a couple of his solo albums).
He’s a good storyteller of what it was like to work with Dylan in both the
studio and on tour, and though he left midway through the second RTR tour, he
still has good words to say about Bob. What I felt was his most intriguing
comment is that Phil Ochs was turned down for the RTR, and soon after took his
own life in 1976, so Stoner wonders if there is a correlation. This segment is
followed by the Bob Dylan directed disaster of a film, Renaldo & Clara, which all the critics interviewed here say
essentially that the live footage was good, but as a piece of cinema, as a
whole, it was not a success.
Towards
the end of the story here, Dylan gets a bigger band, and records and releases
the Street Legal album, which is well-received
everywhere except on his home turf of the US. The end of this DVD comes in November
1978, when Dylan becomes a Born Again Christian.
Again,
with the Chrome Dream collection, there are lots of interviews, here more than
usual, consisting of writers, journalists, and some of the people who were
integral to the period, such as Weberman, Stoner, Aronowitz, Foulk, as well as
Ron Cornelius (guitarist on Self Portrait
and New Morning), Bruce Langhorne
(guitarist for Pat Garrett and Billy the
Kid), Eric Weissberg (guitarist on the New York session of Blood on the Tracks), Kevin Odegard
(guitarist for the Minnesota sessions of Blood
on the Tracks; Jacques Levy (d. 2004; playwright and lyric collaborator on Desire), and Paul Colby (d. 2014; owner
of the Bitter End). And finally, giving a strong female voice to the boys club is violinist Scarlet Rivera (Desire, Rolling Thunder Review).
The
information here is both direct stories and second-hand journalism by
professional writers in the field, but it flushing out pretty well, which is
just what I expect from the Chrome Dream team.
Thanks for this article
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