Cadillac Records

Muddy Waters has always figured prominently in my personal relationship with really good blues music. I first discovered the blues at the movies, watching Better off Dead (1985). John Cusack drove his ’69 Camaro RS around while listening to Mannish Boy from Hard Again, and that was pretty much it for me. That recording was from 1977 and marked the beginning of a comeback for this guitar god. But it took me no time at all to get hold of his earlier recordings – a prodigious and inspired collection of music that really featured his innovative and forceful instrumental style. He rewrote the rulebook on what a blues structure could consist of. And like John Lee Hooker (who never ‘played it strait’ ), Muddy had the personality, the charisma and the style to become a star at the fabled Chess Records in Chicago.

When I was first learning about the blues, listening to Johnnie Meister on WXPN Saturdays from 8-12 PM, Chess was synonymous with fundamental blues music. The music recorded there became the foundation for literally all rock that has followed since. Muddy Waters, Chuck Berry, Howlin’ Wolf, Bo Diddley, Etta James, John Lee Hooker, Buddy Guy, Johnny ‘Guitar’ Watson, Little Walter. Cadillac Records presumes to dramatize the life of some of these people as it tells the story of Chess Records.

As a fan of the music, it was extremely hard not to love this movie. There is such affection in the care and attention to detail with which the music is rendered. All the actors are singing their own parts, so the illusion - the world of the movie - is made that much more real. Also, the biopic is not of one person, but of the music itself, and the role of the label in influencing the music. No one character or actor has the entire responsibility of making this thing work. The risk is dispersed around the ensemble. That being said, Jeffrey Wright goes into another world as Muddy Waters. So much of the role involves singing that I’m sure it helped Wright tighten up his persona and characterization of Waters, because that shit is tight. Cigarette holder, silk ties and shirts, insane hair products and the do-rag - It’s a tremendous performance that doesn't waiver for a moment.

Wright had me in a trance, but he was very generous with the rest of the cast. There were scene stealing moments by Eamonn Walker, Beyonce and Mos Def. Adrian Brody never really got off the ground for me, but he does a nice job facilitating for the rest of the cast.

The plot is little more than the rags to riches, back to different rags sort. But the music is really the story. And the script provides several satisfying moments, as the characters encounter myriad joys and struggles away from and inside the recording studio. But we keep coming back to these stunning musical interludes and they are more than worth the price of admission on their own. The instruments are period-appropriate, and it seemed to me that all the pictures in history books and on album sleeves had magically come to life.

TRAILERS AS TORTURE

Can we talk about previews for a minute?  (I think I must have engaged in a similar rant during the previous lifetime of this blog, but hey - this stuff never gets old.)

OK, maybe one preview in particular:  REVOLUTIONARY ROAD.  It makes me want to kill myself.  I saw it again today for the umpteenth time, and it was like torture.  Can someone please explain to me why I need to see this move?  I mean, just the two minute trailer contains enough angst, moist eyes, screaming, stomping and smashing of dishes to last a lifetime.  Why do I need two HOURS of that shit??

I love Kate - always have.  And Leo almost made of a believer out of me with THE DEPARTED.  And this woman who was at Northwestern a year behind me seems to have a pretty big role, and I wish her all the best (nothin' but love.)  But SERIOUSLY:  the film looks excruciating.  And I had a pretty rough year, thanks very much, so can we lighten up already?

Oh - on a related note:  also got a second look today at the trailer for THE SOLOIST.  OK, I am a HUGE RDJ fan, and would almost see it just for him, but  - as Mike so rightly points out - ENOUGH ALREADY with that friggin' cello piece!!!!!!  There has to be at least ONE other cello piece out there they could have beat us over the head with.  Does it enrage me/us just because of its prominent place in the famous WEST WING Christmas/Yo-Yo Ma/Josh's PTSD episode?  I don't know.  But hearing it endlessly over the end of that preview gives ME PTSD!!!

Slumdog Millionaire.

It’s the last day of a long weekend. I went to a fantastic concert last night, despite the fact that I’ve had a nasty cold, complete with chills, sweats and aching muscles. So, my thinking was that today could be pure relaxation and recuperation. But Em has expressed a strong desire to bust out and go see another one of the Oscar contenders. She’s been cooped up over the long weekend writing an appellate brief, and my take on relationships is that, every once in a while, even in the best relationships, you gotta do something you don’t want to. Not that I didn’t want to see the movie, I just really didn’t want to go out.

After a brief and mildly grumpy ride to the theater, we got our corn and took our seats. Two hours later, even with my grumps, I can only marvel at how much I loved Slumdog.

To be sure, this is ‘Rocky’ to me. The underdog story is far older than that, but it’s my reference point for the genre. There isn’t a lot of character development, and it’s not a cerebrally demanding film (e.g. The Fountain, Syncdoche, etc.). All of Boyle’s old tricks are brought seamlessly into the action – herky jerky editing, vivid use of color (the laundry by the river), a strong musical impression, and tense plot development. But instead of a zombie movie, or a conventional thriller, these elements find their way into a stirring love story.

I think it’s a bit harder to really get to know the main characters when they’re each played by three different actors as the characters age over time. But with the desperate straits these people face, I didn’t miss that sense of connection. In particular, the connection was actually present for me with Jamal, as a result of his scenes with the two, adult, male, supporting characters. All of the performances in this film are on-the-money, but the portrayals of the detective (who tortures Jamal because it’s his job) and the game show host (who provides a different kind of torture) stand out. This is where we see Jamal grow from the child of the slum to the man about whom ‘it is written.’

I was in the perfect spot to hate this movie today, or at least be really annoyed by it, and I’m so glad that didn’t happen. I haven’t seen ‘Millions’, but Boyle seems to have a nice touch with the kinder. When you add that to the fact that he made this movie in a country he had never even visited before, this project was potentially fraught with peril. Boyle’s steady hand and some outstanding performances made this the soaring triumph that it so desperately wants to be.

HEY YOU GUYS!!!!

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