A MAN CALLED ADAM: all that jazz

Sammy Davis, Jr. in A MAN CALLED ADAM

In the underappreciated 1966 drama, A Man Called Adam, Sammy Davis Jr. plays Adam, a self-destructive jazz star. Adam draws people in with his talent and charisma, and, racked by guilt, pushes away those closest to him with selfish and cruel behavior. You can catch A Man Called Adam on Turner Classic Movies on January 31.

Claudia (Cicely Tyson) is drawn to Adam and tries to save him, anchoring herself in the roller coaster of his life. Remember that, after all the ups and downs, a roller coaster always ends up at the bottom.

Cicely Tyson in A MAN CALLED ADAM

Cicely Tyson, in her first credited movie role, is radiant. Two great speeches, in which she absolutely commands the screen, showcase her talent; you can tell that this is going to be a movie star.

While no Cicely Tyson, Sammy Davis, Jr., is excellent as the protagonist. This shouldn’t be so surprising, given that Sammy was an artistic savant, a dancing genius also known for his crooning. (And Sammy’s Rat Pack pals Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin were good movie actors, too, when they wanted to be.)

I also strongly recommend the insightful documentary Sammy Davis, Jr.: I’ve Gotta Be Me, which reveals Sammy’s struggle to fit into each of the six decades of his entertainment career; it can streamed on Amazon (included with Prime), iTunes, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.

American race relations figure large in A Man Called Adam. Adam faces hostile racist thugs in the South and experiences “vacationing while black” in the North. This is one of the few films that depicts tension between Northern and Southern Black Americans. We also get to here Adam use the racial slur ofay, a word I had seen in print but never heard anyone use in a spoken sentence.

Mel Torme in A MAN CALLED ADAM

The jazz in the movie s good and Sammy looks credible as a musical prodigy. In real life, Sammy was a multi-instrumentalist who did perform with the trumpet. The best musical performance in A Man Called Adam is by Mel Torme, playing himself at an after-hours musicians party.

Rat Packer Peter Lawson plays a powerful gatekeeper of a booking agent; this role, a bitter, simmering guy who is ever ready to explode into a rage, seems written for Rod Steiger, and Lawson is no Steiger. Come to think of it, this is a rare role where Lawford is not asked to be debonair. (And where are those “debonair” roles today for actors like Lawford, David Niven, Charles Boyer or Roger Moore?)

Louis Armstrong plays an old time musician, and he’s really, really good as an actor. Frank Sinatra, Jr., is OK as Adam’s goofy protege. The great Ossie Davis plays the guy who tries to warn Claudia off Adam. Lola Falana appears in her screen debut. An uncredited Morgan Freeman is a party guest – right after the Mel Torme song and before Mel tries to get Adam to play, look for a guy with a cigarette, in conversation along the back wall.

A Man Called Adam was directed by prolific television director Leon Penn in his only big screen credit. Penn (father of actors Sean Penn and Chris Penn) deploys especially inventive camera placements and makes excellent us of use of closeups. From its setting in the jazz world to the portrait of Adam’s relationship carnage, A Man Called Adam is always realistic.

Penn’s direction really elevates this movie, as does Tyson’s performance. I saw A Man Called Adam, a bit of a lost film, on Turner Classic Movies. It’s not streamable, but you can find the DVD on Amazon and eBay.

Cicely Tyson in A MAN CALLED ADAM

ELLA FITZGERALD: JUST ONE OF THOSE THINGS: gentle genius of jazz

The revelatory biodoc Ella Fitzgerald: Just One of Those Things traces the life of the jazz icon.

It opens with the Harlem teenage dancer who was an eyewitness to Ella’s 17-year-old public debut at the Apollo Theater’s Amateur Night in 1934. We learn of Ella’s rocky childhood, with the traumas that led her to being incarcerated as a juvenile delinquent and becoming homeless in Harlem. We see the arc of her career, with the initial mentorship of bandleader Chick Webb and the later guidance of producer Norman Grantz.

Her son, Ray Brown, Jr., is on hand to reveal Ella’s family side (with photos of mom pitching to son, both in Dodgers gear).

One of the Ella Fitzgerald: Just One of Those Things‘ highlights is a never-broadcast interview in which Ella makes clear her views on race, American racism and civil rights. Markedly clear-eyed, it’s all the more powerful because of Ella’s gentle demeanor.

A Must See for jazz fans, Ella Fitzgerald: Just One of Those Things is reverential and by-the-numbers, but it is well-sourced and insightful. It opens June 26 in the Roxie Virtual Cinema.

BORN TO BE BLUE: aching to get clean

BORN TO BE BLUE
BORN TO BE BLUE

In Born to Be Blue, Ethan Hawke plays jazzman Chet Baker as he seeks to overcome his heroin addiction and mount an artistic comeback.

Writer-director Robert Budreau made the successful choice to start the story when Baker had hit bottom in the mid-1960s.  Baker is relearning how to play the trumpet after his teeth were smashed by an angry creditor.  Now he’s living in his girlfriend’s VW van and playing for free in a pizza joint, trying to work his way back up to a marquee venue and a recording deal.  We see his 1950s glory days in flashback.

In a typically outstanding performance, Ethan Hawke makes us root for this guy, even as we cringe at the likelihood that his disease is going to find a way to destroy him.  If you’ve seen Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, you know that Hawke is a master at playing unreliable characters – which makes him a perfect choice for a junkie like Chet Baker.  Still, in a bowling alley scene, we glimpse the Chet Baker charm that could attract a woman who certainly knew better.  Hawke convincingly fingers the horn as we hear the real Chet Baker play;  Hawke himself sings on Baker’s signature vocal numbers Over the Rainbow and My Funny Valentine.

Carmen Ejogo (Coretta Scott King in Selma) is also excellent as two of the women in Baker’s life.

This movie’s elephant in the room is Baker’s addiction to heroin, about which he says, “It makes me happy”.  Some very incisive scenes with his father hint at the roots of Baker’s disquiet.  The people closest to Baker want him to kick the habit, but, unfortunately, more than he wants to himself.  As he clings on with his fingerprints, Born to Be Blue is achingly effective.

ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS: his alibi for one murder is another murder

Jeanne Moreau in ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS
Jeanne Moreau in ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS

Tomorrow night, July 24, Turner Classic Movies presents the groundbreaking French noir Elevator to the Gallows.  It’s one of my Overlooked Noir.

Elevator to the Gallows (1958) is such a groundbreaking film, you can argue that it’s the first of the neo-noir. It’s the debut of director Louis Malle, shot when he was only 24 years old. It’s difficult now to appreciate the originality of Elevator the Gallows; but in 1958, no one had seen a film with a Miles Davis soundtrack or one where the two romantic leads were never on-screen together.

A thriller that still stands up today, Elevator to the Gallows (Ascenseur pour l’échafaud) is about the perfect crime that goes awry. The French war hero Julien (Marcel Ronet), is now working as an executive for a military supplier. He’s having an affair with Florence (Jeanne Moreau), whose husband owns the firm. Seeking to possess both his lover and his company, Julien implements an elaborately detailed plan to get away with his boss’ murder. Everything goes perfectly until he makes one oversight; then the dominoes begin to fall, and soon he is trapped in a very vulnerable situation. He is incommunicado, and he remains ignorant of the related events that transpire outside.

Almost every character makes false assumptions about what is going on. Florence mistakenly believes that Julien has run off with a young trollop. A young punk and his peppy girlfriend incorrectly assume that they are on the verge of arrest. The police pin a murder on Julien that he didn’t commit – but his alibi is the murder that he DID commit. And there’s a great scene where Julien is striding confidently into a busy cafe, unaware that he has become the most recognizable fugitive in France.

It’s a page-turner of a plot, and the acting is superb, but Malle’s choices make this film. When Florence thinks that she’s been dumped, she walks through Paris after dark. Jeanne Moreau doesn’t have any lines (although her interior thoughts are spoken in voice-over). Instead, she embodies sadness and shock through her eyes and her carriage – the effect is heartbreaking. Mile Davis’ trumpet reinforces the sadness of her midnight stroll.

The Miles Davis score is brilliant, but Malle often makes effective use of near silence, too. And he reinforces the kids’ shallowness and over-dramatizing with strings. Every audio choice is perfect.

There’s vivid verisimilitude in a Paris police station at 5 am – all grittiness with drunks sobering up, and the holding cage filled with thieves and prostitutes. The contrast in how the police treat the wealthy and influential is stark and realistic.

The young couple is completely believable. The joyride is absolutely what these characters would do. The young guy is sullen and the girl is hooked on his moodiness. And, of course, with the self-absorption of youth, they over-dramatize their own situation.

Every scene in Elevator to the Gallows is strong, but the scenes with Moreau pop off the screen. This was her star-making role, and perhaps the definitive Jeanne Moreau role (yes – even more than Jules et Jim).

Marcel Ronet is also excellent as Julien. Julien is a guy with serious skills, and the confidence and poise to use them. When Julien is trapped in the situation that would cause most of us to freak out, he immediately starts working on an Apollo 13-like solution without any hint of panic. The harrowing scenes of Julien’s entrapment and escape fit alongside the mot suspenseful moments in the great French crime thrillers Rififi (1955) and Le trou (1960). The means of his eventual escape is one of the most ironic moments in cinema.

Marcel Ronet in ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS
Marcel Ronet in ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS

Eventually we see the marvelous Lino Ventura as the detective captain. A former European wrestling champion, Ventura had debuted five years earlier in the great Touchez pas au grisbi and had followed that with several gangster/cop supporting roles. Immediately after Elevator to the Gallows, Ventura started getting lead roles. Ventura had an almost unique combination of charm, wit and hulking physicality; he’s one of the few actors I can envision playing Tony Soprano.

The high contrast black and white photography, the voiceovers and the city at night all scream “noir”. So does the amorality of the main characters seeking to get what they want by murder, the ironies of the miscommunications and mistaken assumptions and the profoundly cynical ending.

But the look and sound of Elevator to the Gallows is entirely new. The experience of viewing Elevator to the Gallows seems closer to the American indie triumphs of the early 1970s (The Godfather, Chinatown, The Conversation) than to the likes of The Postman Always Rings Twice or The Big Sleep. Elevator to the Gallows remains a starkly modern film that is still as fresh today as in 1958.

Marcel Ronet in ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS
Marcel Ronet in ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS

PETE KELLY’S BLUES: a jazz time capsule on TV

Jack "Dragnet" Webb and Peggy Lee in PETE KELLY'S BLUES
Jack “Dragnet” Webb and Peggy Lee in PETE KELLY’S BLUES

On October 16, TCM brings something COMPLETELY different, the 1955 Pete Kelly’s Blues, directed by and starring Jack Webb, who we all know from TV’s Dragnet.   Made at the downturn of the Big Band Era, Pete Kelly’s Blues is set at during Prohibition in the infancy of Big Bands.

It’s a fairly routine drama about a small time bandleader on the outs with a dangerous crime boss, but Jack Webb loved jazz and worked hard to get the music in the movie right, resulting in quite the period document.  Peggy Lee received a Supporting Actress Oscar nomination for portraying an alcoholic vocalist.  There’s an unforgettable cameo performance by Ella Fitzgerald at the top of her game.  The house band includes many real-life musicians who played with Benny Goodman, Bing Crosby and the like, including  Matty Matlock, Eddie Miller and Jud De Naut.

Webb never had much range as an actor, but the rest of the cast is excellent: Janet Leigh, Edmond O’Brien,  Lee Marvin, Andy Devine, Jayne Mansfield and Harry Morgan.  Not a great flick, but worth a look for the music.