Bird.

Review #1638: Bird.

Cast: 

Forest Whitaker (Charlie "Bird" Parker), Diane Venora (Chan Parker), Michael Zelniker (Red Rodney), Samuel E. Wright (Dizzy Gillespie), Keith David (Buster Franklin), Diane Salinger (Baroness Nica de Koenigswarter), Michael McGuire (Brewster), James Handy (Esteves), Anna Thomson (Audrey), Damon Whitaker (Young Bird Parker), Arlen Dean Snyder (Dr. Heath), Sam Robards (Moscowitz), and Bill Cobbs (Dr. Caulfield) Produced and Directed by Clint Eastwood (#1252 - Space Cowboys, #1310 - Million Dollar Baby, #1476 - Pale Rider, #1501 - Unforgiven, and #1550 - Gran Torino)

Review: 

"I'd love to go back in time. To Bourbon Street in the 20's, to 12th Street in Kansas City in the 30's, to 52nd Street in the late 40's."

It was once said by Miles Davis (a legend in his own right in music) that one could tell the history of jazz in four words: "Louis Armstrong. Charlie Parker." Jazz, one of the great music genres of the times, certainly had plenty of historical figures leading the way, and the key to understanding one of its styles rests with Charlie "Yardbird" Parker. The Kansas City native used his time on this Earth for a variety of impactful compositions that clearly touched upon numerous listeners with his alto saxophone of fast tempos and improvisation before his death in 1954. One of those folks was Clint Eastwood, who heard the musician play in Oakland when he was just 15. The film was made on a budget of $9-14 million and came around years after its script was developed by Joel Oliansky in 1980 (shaped by recollections from colleague Teddy Edwards), and it was originally intended to be a project for Richard Pryor. There would be participation from a variety of people close to Parker, such as his common law widow Chan Parker, provided recordings to Eastwood that she had in a vault. It was the first Eastwood film that he had directed where he did not appear in any form (Breezy (1973) had a cameo of him). This was the first of a group of jazz-related programs that Eastwood would be behind in some form (mostly producing), with 1988 also seeing the release of a documentary of the life of Thelonious Monk. It is the sound that matters most when it comes to this film (particularly with music coordinator and former alto sax at Birdland Lennie Niehaus, tasked with writing for the instruments to play where the original piano music was playing), since the recordings of Parker had to be digitally and electronically isolated from the solos, with modern backing tracks recorded over.

While it was not a success with audiences at the time of its release, it certainly has an appeal for those interested in jazz or for those who yearn to see someone at the top of their craft, struggles and all. The beauty of the film is the rhythm it carries with its tribute to a jazz legend with a biography that depicts selections from his life without rote routine or a judging eye. In a way, it moves like a beat you might hear in a jazz composition with all of the thoughtful moodiness required to make a worthwhile time. All interesting biopics have a performance to carry it and no one should be surprised by Whitaker and his effectiveness in bringing Bird to the screen. This was the first starring lead role for Whitaker, who had entered films and television with supporting roles in 1982 such as Tag: The Assassination Game (1982) and Platoon (1986) after a back injury had him shift focus away from football, although he did do some study in music before doing drama. He is the guiding force that makes the film work as smoothly as it does, one that can justify spending plenty of time with in all the soulful aspects that makes for a fascinating experience. He manages to carry talent alongside pain that we can see play a note alongside play his burden without just finding it easy to take judgement or easy pity for as a man. In other words, we see the genius that comes from the notes in the fragments that come out alongside his highs and lows that came with a struggle with addiction to heroin. Venora plays a worthy settling piece to the times away from the road, one with warmth and reason that come around with various scenes that jump from end to end (whether involving interludes at home or near the ends of the timeline spent). Zelniker does fine in those moments on the road, balancing talent with wracked nerve that obviously strikes a chord with what is needed with Whitaker, whether that means an albino act or struggles with oneself (incidentally, the real Rodney participated in the production and is even mentioned in the credits). Wright does well with following along with the beat required from Whitaker without being stepped on (as one would see coming from another figure of bebop jazz, who was touring at the time of production). David and his time spent are quite fleeting, but he sure does well with setting up one particular scene quite well involving cymbals despite playing a composite. Salinger plays the fateful part needed from someone who invites curiosity (incidentally, the real life Baroness was also featured in the documentary about the life of Monk, which aired the month before her death). I suppose any biography is going to have twiddling with the facts, and there are a few things one might quibble with, which is interesting for a film of 155 minutes. Maybe it depends on how much one knows on the subject to begin with, since one might not know about Parker's other marriages (which I probably should have guessed with the whole common thing I described earlier) or lack of mention to associations Parker had with musicians like Miles Davis. In the end, it just comes down to how much one finds themselves enjoying the experience to be had with an elegy for a legend that captures what it means to move to the tune of one's own beat as a film for all of the musicians.

Next Time: Legends in the fields of laughter come together for a most unusual film with a one-time director. Night time comes for Harlem Nights.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Unforgiven.

Review #1501: Unforgiven.

Cast: 
Clint Eastwood (William "Will" Munny), Gene Hackman ("Little" Bill Daggett), Morgan Freeman (Ned Logan), Richard Harris (English Bob), Jaimz Woolvett (The Schofield Kid), Saul Rubinek (W. W. Beauchamp), Frances Fisher (Strawberry Alice), Anna Thomson (Delilah Fitzgerald), David Mucci (Quick Mike), Rob Campbell (Davey Bunting), and Anthony James (Skinny Dubois) Produced and Directed by Clint Eastwood (#1252 - Space Cowboys, #1310 - Million Dollar Baby, and #1476 - Pale Rider)

Review: 
"Gene Hackman was interesting because I gave the Unforgiven script to his agent and he said no, he didn't want to do anything violent. But I went back to him and said, "I know where you're coming from. You get to a certain age and I'm there too, where you don't want to tell a lot of violent stories, but this is a chance to make a great statement"

It's easy to make a lasting great Western when it is going to be the last one you make after a long career defined by them. Eastwood had at least one defining Western that he was featured in, whether that involved television with Rawhide or with films such as A Fistful of Dollars, Two Mules for Sister Sara, or Pale Rider. This was his 17th directorial effort (and fourth involving the Western), and it surely proved a fitting last hurrah for Eastwood to declare as his last Western so as to not repeat himself or others (which has proven correct in for over two decades). The script for this film was written by David Peoples (who prior to writing had been a editor for TV and news programs) in 1976, with one development title being "The William Munny Killings", and one inspiration for him when it came to the depiction of violence was Taxi Driver. The script languished for years while Peoples wrote for other films such as The Day After Trinity (1980) and Blade Runner (1982), with Eastwood having waited around for years to do other projects first. Eastwood thought of making changes to the script, but he changed his mind because of how he saw the script was better without it (minus one thing, which involved having the opening having a text crawl rather than a voiceover). The result was two Academy Awards for Eastwood (for direction and Best Picture) and one for Hackman alongside one for editing.

At last, a Western great enough for the 1990s to deserve. It proves to be a riveting and somber ilm with its subversion of the Western and the myths that could make outlaws famous with whatever exploit could be covered fast enough. Sure, there have been quite a few films that have played with the clichés and traditions of what we saw in the Western in the classic era (with one slight resemblance being The Shootist, for example), but this one handles itself with a great elegiac quality in its direction, characters, and pace that make it one for the ages. It lives and moves with a great patience for making its surroundings resonate with its audience, with a false note never happening as more characters come and leave the picture as reflections of the time and place, whether that means a once-removed killer/farmer, or a savage outlaw, an outlaw with publicity, or even a sight-challenged kid with reputation. The easiest strength of the film lies within its main trio of actors, starting with Eastwood. No one ever fit the mythic mold of the Western hero ever so much in the last few decades of the 20th century film era like Eastwood did, who resonates in pained grit that reflects past and present with no contrived frills as a man with shades of gray. Hackman proves just as worthy in matching up to Hackman on the other side of the hill, tenacious and dedicated in intimidation and order (one of the people Hackman drew from was a police chief, for example) that lend excellence to small moments, such as a conversation with Harris and Rubinek involving the nature of fact and fiction with outlaws turning into a quiet showdown of chicken. Freeman (in the midst of a deserved rise in prominence with supporting and lead roles in the late 1980s) fills in the main details with resonating nerve and conviction that we come to depend on in a careful balancing act between him and Eastwood that make for useful time spent. Harris, despite being in the film considerably less than the others (and only having time with just Hackman and Rubinek) does a resoundingly good job in playing the part of the myth of a refined killer come out splendidly when faced with Hackman and his own interpretation of killers and those who write about them. Woolvett is the key supporting piece to encapsulate the film, brash but quite convincing as the lasting piece of the dealings of myth and reality when it comes to bits of amusement and action between him and Eastwood, never grating on one's patience. Rubinek and the others prove well in filling the town with interest and the dealings that come with conflicting view of justice and morality. What we have here is a film to stamp out the myths that came from films about a time as myth-inducing as the Old West with a wise one at the hand behind and in front of the camera in Eastwood to do wonders with for 131 minutes. This is a well-done piece of subversion and execution on a variety of levels that range from its cast to its look (done entirely in Alberta, Canada) that make the grand myth of outlaw one to look closer into and care about with flourish and satisfaction. It isn't the first Western one might view for themselves, but it sure is the one deserving of being up there to see time and time again among the classics.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.