Showing posts with label Ringo Starr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ringo Starr. Show all posts

Thursday, January 17, 2013

DVD Review: The Point (Harry Nilsson / Ringo Starr)

 
Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet

The Point: The Definitive Collector’s Edition
Directed and animated by Fred Wolf
MVD Visual
74 min, 1971 / 2012
MVDvisual.com


The 1970s was a key point in cinema animation, with works by Ralph Bakshi (Fritz the Cat, Wizards), Martin Rosen (Watership Down) and Ralph Lafoux (Fantastic Planet. At the same time, weekly television cartoons went from 24 frames per second to 18 (e.g., The Jackson 5ive, Nanny and the Professor).

Undeterred by the growing maturity of the medium, The Point, drawn by Fred Wolf, was bravely released into the world and shown on ABC television as the first animated “Move of the Week” in 1971. Using simple line drawings that looked an Alka-Seltzer commercial from the ‘60s (which had been drawn by RO Blechman), it went out to touch a wide-reaching audience for various reasons.

But first, this message: Narrating the story-within-a-story is Ringo Starr, as the dad who reads the story to his young son, who is more into watching television (“my shows”) than books (sound familiar?). Starr’s easily recognizable voice rambles along, up and down tones in a slight sing-song manner that he’s known for, which is, of course, endearing Note, however, the original airing on television used Dustin Hoffman’s voice, and Ringo was added for the video release years later The songs that accompany the story is by Starr’s cohort and real-life close friend, Harry Nilsson (d. 1994), known for the likes of “Without You” and “Everybody’s Talkin’”. One from the film, “Me and My Arrow,” even became a somewhat hit. Nilsson also wrote and pitched the story idea. And in typical post-Beatles music-related animation, there is a bit of a psychedelic feel to the colors and flow. I wouldn’t go as far as to call it derivative as much as influenced.

The story told is about a little boy, Oblio, and his dog Arrow, who live in a land where everything and everyone has a triangular shape, or a point (for people, it’s at the top of their heads, possibly inspiring the Coneheads. And yet, no one’s pointy-headed life has any point Yes, the double meaning is purposeful in the story, especially when Oblio is born with a round head (like us). Nearly everyone else in the story is also The Simpsons-ish orange (perhaps Snooki?), though occasionally to make a point, some are other colors, such as a crooked politician being purple. Yes, it is very Yellow Submarine in that way, with the meanie being a darker hue of blue.

Due to the machinations of said politico, inspired by his bully of a son who is Oblio’s school mate, Oblio and Arrow are cast away into the “Pointless Forest.” There he meets a serious of people or creatures, some having some kind of trinity about them. First there is a slimy character with three heads who consistently points out that all those who Oblio meets in the forest is pointless, to which he disagrees. Then there’s three obese women bouncing around like beachballs (reminding me more of a post-blueberry Violet Beauregarde). Among others, there is a fashion industry manufacturer tree waiting to bring out the next season’s line (“Careful! Leaves don’t on trees, y’know!”) and an obviously African-American Rock man (“Dig?”) that has a rear-view mirror touch of Semitic and Black-hep stereotyping, among many others.

Oblio is voiced by 10-year-old Mike Lookinland, who is better known to that generation as the youngest boy Brady, Bobby. Other voices include animation stalwarts Paul Frees (who narrated many films and cartoons, as well as playing both John Lennon and George Harrison in the Beatles cartoon; d 1986), Lenny Weinrib (he voiced both Scrappy-Doo and H.R. Hufnstuf, among so many others; d. 2006), and voice-queen Joan Gerber (d. 2011); also child actor Buddy Foster (who played Mike Jones on both the Andy Griffith Show and Mayberry RFD; he’s also Jody’s older brother).

But the most important voice, however, is Nilsson’s as he croons the Greek-chorus songs that weave throughout the story. This can almost be seen as a happier version of The Little Prince meets Alice in Wonderland, where the child has many exciting and sometimes dangerous adventures on his way to find truth, meaning, and yes, the point of life. Then there is the consistent looking for the positive in everything like Candide.

And what happens when round-headed outcast Oblio returns to the pointed land? Well, that is the – err – point, isn’t it…

This really is a charming story and well told. It will appeal to children with the art and music, and there is enough double entendres that will keep the adults interested. And those Nilsson songs. Even with a few major hits, it is true that he was underrated for his voice and writing. This film, as a Nilsson legacy, is something to be treasured, even though it has become a bit dated over the years in some of its categorized characters. The story, however, remains true, and that’s what matters in the end.

The extra is a 27-minute documentary broken into four parts: “Who is Harry Nilsson?”, “Pitching The Point,” “Making The Point,” and “Legacy of The Point.” It’s consistently interesting, about how Nilsson brought the film to fruition. Some of the oral history is presented by the likes of director/animator Fred Wolf, Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees, Terry Gilliam who animated Monty Python’s Flying Circus, John Lennon’s consort May Pang, and Harry’s last wife, Una and adult kids Annie and Beau. Shame they couldn’t get Lookinland to discuss his role.


Thursday, August 26, 2010

DVD Review: “Paul McCartney Really is Dead: Last Testament of George Harrison”

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen
Images from the Internet


Paul McCartney Really is Dead: The Last Testament of George Harrison
Directed and produced by Joel Gilbert
Highway Entertainment, 2010
95 minutes, USD $14.95
Highway61ent.com
MVDvisual.com


According to this documentary style film, someone sent a package to Highway 61 Entertainment which contained some audio tapes supposedly recorded by ex-Beatle guitarist George Harrison while he was in Reading Hospital after begin stabbed by a reportedly insane man. This DVD is based on those tapes, and includes them within.

Producer / Director Joel Gilbert describes these events in the prolog, claiming that the tapes had been to three voice analysis labs, and the tests were “inconclusive.” Thus we are launched into a history of the Beatles, as told by George [Note that from this point, I will just use “George” when referring to the narrator of this DVD, and Harrison when talking about the man] in a very dissonant tone as he is preparing the listener for a shocking revelation.

Now, I consider myself a Beatles fan, but would hardly say I was an expert (someone chided me for making a mistake about Lennon in a recent blog), but even I could tell the voice was not Harrison’s; it was a worse impression than the ‘60s Beatles cartoons. It didn’t even sound Liverpudlian, but rather someone from the States trying to sound like it. For example, bubblegum comes out as “booblegoom.”

That being said, let me set this clear: this DVD is great, truly. I enjoyed it from beginning to end, it was such a hoot. I’ve always enjoyed conspiracy theories, from the JFK assassination to the question of Americans on the moon, from Reagan being our “best” president (yeah, sure) right through to the destruction of the WTC. I rarely agree with the theories, but they are fun to hear. And even if I argue with what this film states, it still brought a smile to me face (sorry I thought I was channeling Ringo, who does not come across too well in this, by the way).

The first question about this DVD is, well, why was the tapes sent to Highway 61 Entertainment? Why not The New York Times? Rolling Stone? Oliver Stone? This made no sense to me, and I kinda wish Joel Gilbert would have at least given some theory to that effect, and that he didn’t bring that up seems suspicious, right from the gate.

Getting back to the narrative, George goes on to discuss Paul’s mid-‘60s trouble with the law and teenage girls in Minneapolis, some detail about how the Jesus protests effected the Beatles and their fans, and so on. In fact there are quite a few news clips of the band, and as so many have seen those same interviews so many times, it is the clips of the fans that are more enjoyable (though my favorite one is not there: in front of the Plaza Hotel in New York, some hysterical teen with a thick Brooklyn accent complaining that she’d been waiting for hours to see the band and the police wouldn’t let her). There is even a very short clip of Lennon and Dylan stoned out of their minds in the back of a limousine [see at bottom of this blog].

Then, in November of 1966, apparently Paul left Abby Roads Studio in a huff at 5 AM, and was killed dramatically in a car crash after picking up a fan named Rita, who caused the accident that would not only take Paul’s life, according to this, but would graphically destroy Paul body, which is given in sharp detail. This leads to someone from MI5, British Secret Service, calling up the band to identify the body. His name is Maxwell, and he forces the boys to silence for fear of Paul’s death causing teen girls to commit suicide on a global scale. A Paul look-a-like contest is held in the States, including on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand, and though a winner is never announced, supposedly someone named William Campbell is selected, flown to England, and is then given extensive surgery to make the transition complete. And of course everyone involved is sworn to secrecy under threat of death by – er – Maxwell’s “silver hammer.”

John, being John, rebels and he nicknamed the new Paul - who is never really accepted by the rest of the band - Faul (short for False Paul), and then he leaves lots of hints of the occurrence, such as calling the album Rubber Soul after “Rubber Paul, and Apple means “A-Paul” (as opposed to “the” Paul). Lots of songs are credited to trying to give hints, including “Nowhere Man,” “and the overly abstract “Come Together.” Backward masking in the recordings is added in, and examples are a-plenty on this DVD (including subtitles, I’m happy to say), some successfully and some questionable.

Much of the “Paul is Dead” theorizing has been discussed before over the years, since Detroit DJ first came out with the story in October 1969. But there is much stretching of credulity as far as I’m concerned, such as Revolver meaning the “Revolving door” of replacing Paul, Yellow Submarine meaning Paul’s coffin (rather than a more widely held belief that it has a drug reference), and that’s just the start of it.

Later on, Feorge…I mean George states that the reason they went to India was to get the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi to transfer Paul’s soul into Faul, because it seemed that Faul is not as smart or loveable as Paul (“We all loooved Paul,” George states more than once). The tape states the reason they left the ashram in a huff was because the switch didn’t work, not because of the Yogi making a pass at Mia Farrow, or Brian Epstein’s suicide (which is not mentioned, I’m surprised; I half expected him to have been offed by Maxwell).

George states that when the information came to light of Paul’s death by Russell Gibb, that is why John divorced Cynthia, to save her and Julian’s life, and then he moved to the U.S. That is also why the States was trying to deport John, as a favor to MI5 so he could be sent to England where Maxwell had more control of him. When John told George he was going to tell, he was killed by Mark David Chapman two weeks later; and when George told Faul he was going to confess, that is when he was attacked and stabbed.

But my favorite stretch is of having rabid fan Rita undergo facial surgery and come back as Heather Mills. That is like the Broadway show Tommy that had the title character marry Sally Simpson. Just doesn’t work for me, and as Tom Bingham points out in his review of this DVD, “I might point out that Internet bios of Heather Mills have her being born in 1968, two years after the accident.” [http://genecdvd.blogspot.com/2010/08/paul-mccartney-really-is-dead-last.html].

I envision it this way: in 1966, the band is bored, stoned, or both, and hear about the Paul look-a-like contest. They figure, like the old Prince and the Pauper story, what if they pretended like Paul was dead, and would give clues to see if anyone would catch on. Creative wiseass John kept it going when the others gave up, got bored, or sobered up, and then it blew up in their faces when someone actually started to put the “clues” together in their own obsessive moment, added by their own imagination. Surely a prank by an art student gone to the nth degree. That is my theory which is mine, too.

The DVD’s Website clearly states that this is “Not affiliated with estate of George Harrison, Paul McCartney, William Campbell, Apple Corp or The Beatles” [paulreallyisdead.com]. While none of the music of the band (or their solo material) is used (i.e., licensed), Wayne Peet does a fine job hinting at it enough through instrumentals to make the connection, but not enough to get sued (one would think), much like the Rutles.

But this DVD is entertaining, don’t get me wrong, but part of the joy is the side-splitting connections that are made to reach the conclusions, no matter how thin. In the same way the Kingsmen’s version of “Louie Louie” was a blast despite that there was nothing really going on to elicit the salacious accusations, The Last Testament of George Harrison makes bold steps and is a fun piece for just what it is, rather than what it is trying to imply.
________
Also on the DVD is a link to MP3s of Peet’s music, and a short documentary of and interview with the late music historian icon Al Aronowitz (who I once met at an Andy Pratt concert, of all things). Al tells of how he introduced Bob Dylan to the Beatles, and how at the confab, Dylan introduced the Beatles to pot. Only a few minutes long, but it kept me interested, despite Al’s slurred speaking (due to age); thankfully, the entire conversation is captioned.


Bonus video:

Monday, June 14, 2010

DVD Review: John Lennon: Rare and Unseen

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen
Images from the Internet


John Lennon: Rare and Unseen
Wienerworld Presentations, 2010
75 minutes, USD $14.95
Wienerworld.com
MVDvisual.com

When VCRs first came out, I remember getting a VHS of Beatles’ press conferences. This DVD reminded me of that, as there is not a stitch of music in it, but luckily it is a bit more comprehensive and certainly the sound is cleaner than that long-ago VHS.

Lord knows, there is so much documentation on the Beatles, in all formats, so here is one more, with its own little twists. If I have it right, most of the framework of this collection is based around a British television commentary by author Desmond Norris (The Naked Ape, etc.), which looks like it’s from around the late ‘70s or early ‘80s. There are also a number of clips of the 1969 appearance of John and Yoko at on David Frost’s program. But I get ahead of myself.

All the Beatles are here in the first past, though not often heard from because, well, this isn’t about them, per se. In fact, Cynthia and Sean don’t get a mention at all, other than a second hand snipe by Ringo during a press conference (“Don’t forget you’re married! Oh, that’s a secret…”).

Through the early part of the DVD, there are present day interview snippets mixed in with older footage, with the likes of Colin Hanton of the Quarrymen, Beatles press officer Tony Barrow, comedian / announcer / fan Len Goodman (you’ll know him when you see him), and for some God-knows reason, Phil Collins (who, other than being a contemporary of Lennon, doesn’t really add much, as usual). One of the more interesting and amusing extended comments is by actor Tony Booth, who happens to be the father-in-law of ex-British Prime Minister Tony Blair; he tells of meeting Lennon at their mutual dealer’s flat, and of them sharing some weed.

Other than a brief comment by Hanton, there isn’t really anything pre-Beatles to note here at all (Act 1 is the Beatles, Act 2 is post-Beatles), picking up on slices of press conferences, television interviews, and b-roll footage of the boys getting on and off planes. Any concert footage, which is kept to a minimal, is used as background for radio interviews.

At first, there seems to be as much footage of other people as there is of John, but that just sets things up: as Hanton explains that at the beginning, John was actually quite shy and reticent to speak in public, but as time went on, this would change sharply. Lennon clearly came into himself in the late ‘60s, being fairly open to express whatever his opinions were, and take appropriate actions for himself.

One of the 2wo large focuses on the Beatles end is the whole religion flap that brought the Beatles back into the spotlight (albeit not necessarily for the right reasons) in 1966, during an interview with Maureen Cleave. There are shots of Lennon getting very defensive and rankled during interviews, and the now-amusing-and-yet-sad comments about Lennon and Christianity by the Klan.

Another segment focuses on the negative reaction to the band in Manila in (also) 1966, when then-first “lady” Imelda Marcos perceived a snubbing by the band, which had to basically flee for their lives from angry crowds. Some of the press conference when they returned to the UK is featured here.

While there is no footage on the whole India debacle (which I’m convinced was as much a cause for the break-up as was the management issues), it is only mentioned in a passing comment. Likewise, there is very little mentioned about Brian Epstein and his relationship with Lennon, though Lennon’s bitterness about the realization of Epstein’s lack of business acumen, which became clear after his death, is quite pronounced. And this, of course, is followed by the acrimonious Klein-Eastman choices that actually did break up the band. Lennon goes on to say that they were going their own way anyway, but it’s easy to tell there is resentment and possibly hurt in his comments.

Of course, by this time, nearly every shot of Lennon is one with Yoko by his side, including the infamous (and abovementioned) 1969 David Frost interview, where Lennon has audience members hitting a nail into a piece of wood and then asking them how it felt.

The bed-in period and John’s activism are well covered, including the concert tour where all the money was to go to prisons to help people make bail. There is a funny quip by him knocking Mick Jagger about greed.

I remember at the time, when I was watching some of these interviews as they originally played out, wondering how much the drugs had played with Lennon’s mind, because the whole “consciousness” bit was fuzzy, and his commentary felt disjointed (which I’m sure is one of the reasons I never had a desire to imbibe). Seeing some of this footage again after all these years, it still sounds profoundly abstract to the point where it’s almost nonsensical to me, but I can enjoy it more now in hindsight as an “experience.”

After the credits (for the ‘80s British telley show?), there is an overly brief segment that is apparently added on, of the newspaper headline of Lennon’s murder and a quick snip after it, lasting no more than 2 minutes total. This, I would have liked to see more of, actually.

John Lennon was an enigmatic public figure, who some folks hated (like my dad, who thought he was a communist and/or rabble rouser), and others adored him as a demi-deity. Either way, he was one of the central public figures of his time, and beyond. This DVD is a fine way to explore the different sides of the Beatle, the figure, the man.

* * *
A John Lennon story unrelated to the video:
A friend of mine (whose name I will add if he agrees) in New York was listening to Alex Bennett’s radio show late one night, and Bennett gave out Lennon’s personal phone number to his Greenwich Village apartment that he shared with May Pang. My buddy, then in his very young teens, called the number, expecting to get a butler or secretary. The phone is picked up. “Hello” “May I speak to John, please.” “Speaking.” Recognizing the voice, my pal panicked, and hung up. Yep, he hung up on John Lennon.

Bonus video by the great Ed Hamell (aka Hamell On Trial):