Harold and Lillian: A Hollywood Love Story

Harold and Lillian: A Hollywood Love Story
(2015 American documentary directed by Daniel Raim)
by Live Music Head

Harold Michelson,
Hollywood’s most influential storyboard artist 

turned production designer and art director,
and Lillian Michelson,
Hollywood's most revered film researcher, 

and Harold’s partner and wife,
got the most charming and heart warming 

documentary made about them in 2015,
by the film maker known as Daniel Raim.
Today, I saw it as part of the Doc Soup series 

at Toronto’s Hot Docs cinema,
with the director in attendance.
Let me say first and foremost,
this film is a must-see for any aspiring film maker, 

film historian, film buff, and fans of fabulous storytelling alike. 

There are so many truly wonderful things seen, heard
and learned while watching this documentary,
I don’t even know where to begin.
Well, the list of incredible films 

this amazingly talented couple worked on 

being a mind-boggler, 

would be a good start. 

Classics, all of ‘em!
It was apparent from the get-go,
these two only worked with the best, 

because they were the best.
And very, very likable people to boot.
But what I really didn’t expect to see or hear in this doc
was the bit about Tom Waits,
during the time he was at Francis Ford Coppola's
American Zoetrope studio for the 1982 musical,

One From The Heart.
(Waits supplied the soundtrack to the film
for which he received an Academy Award nomination).
Apparently Waits would spend time at
the studio's research library
talking endlessly about his life.

Lillian Michelson: “And everything that came out of his mouth
sounded like a police confession!”


The trailer for Harold and Lillian: A Hollywood Love Story...

Under the Influence of Music and Film

Under the Influence of Music and Film

by Live Music Head

LMH in the Bell Blue Room, Member Appreciation Weekend,
tiff. Bell Lightbox Toronto

My ongoing relationship with...

the Toronto International Film Festival (tiff.),

the organization who's mission statement reads:

"to transform the way people see the world through film"

has been nothing but a positive one. Always.

As a patron,

as a volunteer,

as a ticket agent,

and as a member.

Always positive.

This weekend is Member Appreciation Weekend 

at tiff. Bell Lightbox,
so to further deepen my knowledge of the organization,

I spent my Saturday attending six information seminars.

Seminars with topics such as:

the creative process behind TIFF’s Youtube channel

and the digital team that drives it;

the continuing work going on behind their anniversary-

“defining moments since 1976”;

the sponsorship process, from solicitation to stewardship;

the development opportunities and support 

provided by TIFF for industry professionals;

what goes into the production of major exhibitions,

such as Andy Warhol: Stars of the Silver Screen 

(currently running),

and how the programming team plans their screening season,

presented by the always-entertaining Steve Gravestock,

the programmer for whom I made the suggestion to

of bringing in the 1973 film Jesus Christ Superstar,

along with the cast and director.

That rock opera is very close to my heart

and has been on an anniversary screening tour,

with meet-and-greets at cinemas all over the U.S. of A.

So why not Toronto?

The Lightbox is the best venue to host this kind of celebration,

so I hope it happens! Steve!

Between seminars,

I enjoyed privileged access to the Bell Blue Room,

the member’s lounge where I’m always well fed,

and where I go to get coffee’d up.

This is also the room where they hold

the Festival Poster and Merchandise Clearance Sale.

Upon arrival,

I noticed Keith Richards: Under the Influence 

was on the poster list,

the documentary film 

(directed by Morgan Neville) of which, 

for me,
was the highlite of this year’s festival,

having attended the premiere at the Princess of Wales Theatre,

with the Rolling Stones guitarist,

and epitome of rock star-dom, in attendance.

It was waaaay cool.

Because Richards is cool.

He’s a gentleman, and he knows good music.

And this film celebrates that fact:

his appreciation for the people who make the music...

his influences,

of which he also refers to as gentlemen.

As an aside,

did you see when Richards showed up for 

Willie Nelson’s birthday bash,

and they performed We Had it All as a duet?

It’s part of the dvd released in 2004:

Willie Nelson and Friends: Outlaws and Angels,

and oh, how I love it!

And that’s because rock and roll’s greatest outlaw

bows in respect to country music’s greatest outlaw,

and clearly displays his genuine love for the twang.

Seeing that,

my love for Keith Richards increased a hundred-fold.

Keith Richards: “Rock and roll’s got nothing on these guys.”

As I said, Keith Richards knows good music.

A remarkable song,

remarkable, and oh-so precious,

and I adore Willie Nelson.

Watch it, here...

If you weren’t lucky enough to attend

the TIFF premiere of Under the Influence at the Princess of Wales,

perhaps you viewed it online at Netflix?

That’s where it had its second premiere the very next day.

But if you haven’t seen it at all, 

and you’re a true rock and roller,

then I must ask: 

“What the hell are you waiting for?”

If the very-likable main subject of the film 

isn’t enough for you to get on it,

then how ‘bout the genius otherwise known as 

Tom Waits?

He’s in it, yes.

Waits talks a fair bit about his working relationship with Richards,

and why they’ve been long-standing friends.

The best bit is when the two of them are shown together
in studio performing Last Leaf,

track eleven from Bad as Me,

the Waits album from 2011.

Another remarkable song.

Remarkable, and oh-so precious...

“I fight off the snow.
I fight off the hail.
Nothing makes me go,
I’m like some vestigial tail.
I’ll be here through eternity,
if you want to know how long.
If they cut down this tree,
I’ll show up in a song.
I’m the last leaf on the tree.
The autumn took the rest,

but they won’t take me.”

Seeing them perform this,

even just a snippet,

was the emotional moment in the film for me.

Much of what I experienced watching the film
was also experienced while reading Life,

the book that Keith Richards wrote in 2010,

and dare I say:

the best rock and roll autobiography ever written.

Over the years,

my imagination has run wild at times

with thoughts of hanging out with Tom Waits and Keith Richards.

After all, I am a rock and roll chick!

And one thing I’ve fantasized about was
what it would be like to see Waits and Richards perform live

with Marianne Faithfull... 

at Toronto’s Massey Hall.

Now that, 

I think, 

would be somethin’ to see.

Better yet is my imaginary martini party...

where Gino Vannelli comes, 

and brings the olives.

Iggy Pop is also invited.

Well, until I heard he recorded a Christmas album.

Then I had no choice but to scratch him off the guest list.

But of course Keith Richards comes.

He brings the smokes.

And we get completely smashed...

watching Dean Martin Celebrity Roasts!

But wait, I digresssssssssssss!

“Angela, I must have this poster.” 

But the Senior Coordinator of TIFF Membership replied:

“There was only one of that poster,

and it’s already taken.”

“Doh!”, said I.

“D-O-H!”

But later on in the day,

as I was preparing to head home,

Pierre,

TIFF’s Manager of Membership and Engagement,

and host of all the information seminars,

completely surprised me when he tracked me down and said:

“I’m the one who got that Keith Richards poster,

but I want you to have it.”

“Whaaaaaat?! I said.

“Oh no Pierre, I couldn’t.”

But he insisted.

Because of my passion for the music

and because of my passion for TIFF,

he insisted I have it.

Sigh.

Thank you, Pierre.
You rock!
R-O-C-K!
Only good things happen to me at tiff. Bell Lightbox.

Always.

Because of the people who work there.

And because it's where my love of music 

meets my love of film.

The trailer for Keith Richards: Under the Influence...

The Toronto International Film Festival (tiff.)

http://tiff.net/

The House Where Nobody Lives

by Live Music Head

There's a house on my block that's abandoned and cold
The folks moved out of it a long time ago
They took all their things
and they never came back
It looks like it's haunted, with the windows all cracked
Everyone calls it the house,

the house where nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?

Well the paint was all cracked,
it was peeled off of the wood
Papers were stacked on the porch where I stood
and the weeds had grown up just as high as the door
There were birds in the chimney, and an old chest of drawers
Looks like no one will ever come back

to the house were nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?
So if you find someone;
someone to have, someone to hold,

don't trade it for silver, don't trade it for gold
Because I have all of life's treasures
and they’re fine and they're good
They remind me that houses
are just made of wood
What makes a house grand ain't the roof or the doors
If there's love in a house, it's a palace for sure
Without love, it ain't nothin but a house...
a house where nobody lives   
~ Tom Waits

The loneliness is too much to bare,
and the pain, too great.
Everything I love hurts me.
Everything that has given me joy,
hurts me.
“Here within my lonely frame,
my eyes just hurt my brain” ~ The Yardbirds.
The loss of wildlife
and innocent animals by the machines of man,
people in all their selfish pursuits,
my favourite tv shows to my favourite songs,
and what’s left of my memory,
only seem to hurt me.
When someone like Clarence Clemons passes away,
or seeing death on the face of Robin Gibb,
another chunk of my youthfulness falls off me,
and slips away.
I cry and cry and cry.
I can’t stand this world.
It’s incredibly sad,
and grows more and more cruel every single day.
With a thimble full of hope,
I’ve managed to stay engaged,
following my passions,
keeping one foot in and one foot out,
one step ahead,
and three steps back.
And it amazes me,
the sense of humour and playfullness
that I can sometimes still have with it.
But it’s really pathetic when I’m expected
to convince myself and others
that my soul is any less tortured or in peril
than it actually is.
While my bank account depletes,
and my future never more questionable,
I can’t find any meaning or reason for it,
at all.
And the pain inside continues to grow ever deeper.
Much of this pain I carry around,
I’ve carried around my entire life.
But ever since those biggest lies hit me;
hit, hurt, and humiliated,
I’ve come to realize just how much of this life
is nothing but a lie upon a lie, upon a lie, upon a lie.
"Your heroes turn out to be assholes,
and the light in the tunnel that you've been chasin'
is a train" ~ unknown.
I may sound naive, but I’m really not.
I’ve been the strong, confident,
independent woman all my life,
fearless,
choosing to believe in myself and having faith,
while wrecklessly,
and sometimes self-destructively,
totally and completely falling in love with experience.
And my coping skills have taken a beating.
I don’t care to fight the battle anymore.
The suit of armour that you have to wear
to go out there
no longer fits,
and the masks won’t stay in place on my face.
Pamela des Barres describes herself,
and me at the same time,
when she says:
"I was always such a seeker,
though all the way through it,
it seems I've had an unworthy feeling,
like I didn't deserve the great things in life,
yet I somehow kept expecting them.
That constant hope seems to have diminished,
but I know I could change it in a snap."
Oh, I’ve changed it in a snap alright,
many, many, and many times over.
But that last time I snapped,
I was 46.
And when I proved to be unworthy yet again,
the chances of finding happiness
became slimmer than ever.
I really want to be part of something;
something important, something special;
something smart;
something that I can love, respect,
and care about, deeply.
Finding it in the old-age home
is not what I had in mind.
After years of going from one lover to another,
one home to another,
one job to another,
one social circle to the other,
finding the one who,
before hurting me more than any other,
and the community he revolved in,
was the closest I’d come to
what I’d been seeking all along.
It may sound absurd,
being that in reality,
I was really so very far from the heart of it.
And it is absurd.
But good, bad, right, wrong, or ugly,
it’s the truth.
I’m a rock and roll romantic,
and I thought maybe, just maybe,
all my dreams could finally come true.
But the passionate fire that burned inside me
was extinguished by
a very, very, very cold pail of water.
And it may have been all just part of my mid-life crisis,
but it left me as crushed as the ten-year-old
whose best friend broke all her crayons,
before going off with the new kid in the school yard.
I live in a constant state of disappointment.
And the emptiness inside is forever expanding.
That community I need,
like the intimate love,
and real emotional connection I seek,
remains elusive.
And if I’m expected to carry on,
I need those things like never before.
It’s just like Peter Tork says...
"If you don't have a sense of community
or a higher power,
then you blame yourself,
think bad of yourself,
struggle,
and try to divert.
One form of diversion is entertaining.
If you can make thousands love you,
you'll be all right.
But in fact,
it makes no fucking difference.
It's a kick when you're on stage,
but an hour and a half later,
it starts all over."
I can’t stand it.
I desperately need to believe in love,
and in human beings,
and to unleash the flood of love
that’s been forever trapped inside me.
It’s complete torture otherwise.
And this shell of a body
that I walk around in every day
is described best by Tom Waits.
In that song of his...
The House Where Nobody Lives.
I really should get up and wipe away the dust
that weighs heavy on the baseboards
at the bottom of the walls surrounding me,
and looking out the back window,
I really should go out and rake those leaves.
As I listen to the singer-songwriter,
also known as genius,
completely nail it.
He nails it!
Describing the block I live on,
the body I walk around in,
and the brick house that shelters me.
Listening to it, I hear the old soul,
my broken heart,
and the truth of it tears me apart.
"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds'.
I do not agree.
The wounds remain.
In time, the mind, protecting its sanity,
covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens,
but it is never gone." ~ Rose Kennedy

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnasus

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnasus
~ A film review by Live Music Head


“What’s really going on between Doctor Parnasus
and the devil anyway?”
was the question running through my mind during most of the film.
It took way too long to get an explanation about the deal
and when an explanation did finally come,
it still wasn’t entirely clear.
Well,
not to me anyway.
The visuals inside the Imaginarium were awesome,
but I knew as I was leaving the cinema,
this film wouldn’t hold any long lasting memories for me.
Tom Waits was the main reason I saw this motion picture,
but unfortunately, I was disappointed with his dialogue.
I expected far better words to be written for him;
he was Tom Waits playing the devil after all.
And seeing Johnny Depp suddenly appear out of nowhere,
may have been fun for some, but for me it was distracting.
On the other hand,
If I had to pick a favourite scene,
I guess it would be the one in the shopping mall
and the uptight woman being seduced by
Depp-filled fantasies in a boat.
But what about Waits dancing the tango?
I could have used more of that.
All in all, as far as performances go
I’d have to say Christopher Plummer saved the day,
because it was he who ultimately managed to move me.
Tears welled as I watched Parnasus watch his daughter
through the restaurant window of the closing scene.
Overall,
the film reminded me of the stage version of Lord of the Rings;
too much great talent wasted on a weak script.
I’m not sure I’ll want to see
this film again when it arrives on DVD,
but if I do,
perhaps I’ll feel differently about it a second time around.
For now,
I give the Imaginarium of Doctor Parnasus...
2 out of 5

The Black Rider ~ Tarragon Theatre

The Black Rider
A rock opera by Tom Waits, Robert Wilson
and William S Burroughs
Tarragon Theatre, Toronto
November 1, 2008

“Step right up…have your tickets ready”,
shouts a bald-headed megaphone.
“Harry’s Harbour Bizarre is proud to present
under the big top tonight…
a three-headed baby, Hitler’s brain, Jo Jo the dog-faced boy
and Johnny Eck, the man born without a body.”
The casting of the 2008 “fable of the free-shooter” guarantees…
“a gay old time!”
Father Bertram, the Royal Huntsman (Ashley Wright)
will allow Kathchen (Rachael Johnston) to marry
Wilhelm (Kevin Corey) only if he keeps with family tradition,
and proves himself a worthy hunter.
Wilhelm, a clumsy city clerk has no rifle skills,
but a forest encounter with a convincing Peg Leg
(Michael Scholar, Jr)
has Wilhelm using all the
“magic bullets guaranteed to hit their mark”.
And learning of a wedding day test with a wooden dove in a tree,
Wilhelm stands at the crossroads to make a left-handed deal
with a devilish limp...
“six are yours and hit the mark, but one is mine and hits the dark”.
Clever, witty, and laugh-out-loud funny,
this dark comedy was created by Robert Wilson,
“a towering figure in the world of experimental theatre”,
William S. Burroughs, “the Godfather of the Beat Generation”,
and the avant-garde musical and poetic imagery of
the one and only, Tom Waits.
Choreographer Marie Nychka must also be acknowledged for
“T’ain’t no sin to take off your skin
and dance around in your bones”.
Rachael Johnston, with strangely twisted arms
in white gloves to the elbow,
plays a porcelain doll face with a wicked cackle,
gliding across the stage
as she brilliantly displays the best dramatic stage death
I’ve ever seen.
Together with the large white and ever-present hunting rifle,
the Black Rider is a feast to the musical eyes
with all its ghoulish characters.
As hands are comically played by piano feet
from under the Angel of Foof,
and a limping leg is ever watchful
through a red curtain window...
“I’ll be the flowers after you’re dead”,
sings the bridegroom.
Shooting the moon right out of the sky…
“I want to build a nest in your hair
I want to kiss you and never be there”.
Michael Scholar Jr is a stand-out performer as Peg Leg
and the large white hunting rifles must be credited as well.
But it was the black-clad 3-piece at stage left
who charmed me the most.
The Devil’s Rubato Band more than complimented
the 6-piece ensemble.
Trombonist (Corinne Kessel) shifted gracefully
between blowing slide to blowing
a long wooden whistle for a train,
as a drum is pounded between legs of
tinkering teases on Bryce Kulak’s piano.
And clever sound effects are plucked beside her from
a booming bass (Duane Elias).
Being a fan of track ten on
the 1993 Tom Waits audio recording of The Black Rider,
I was disappointed when the mid-show scene
of the Russian Dance didn’t come close
to the showstopper I’d imagined.
Thinking, oh well…
“That's the way the gravy stains.
That's the way the moon wanes”.
Saturday matinee sunshine began to spill
through exit doors opening,
as the entire cast joined hands to take their bows.
But as the stage cleared, the band continued to play.
Just like the band aboard the sinking Titanic,
the Devil’s Rubato Band continued to play.
With little attention paid to the folks
squeezing by me from sold-out rows,
I sat back in smiling satisfaction.
“You can’t go wrong
with a 30 ought 6…
you can hang a happy ending on it”.

See behind-the-scenes footage of The Black Rider stage play
in this 30-min documentary featuring Burroughs and Wilson, 
and Tom Waits, who gives a brief synopsis off the top
and steps out on stage to deliver the finale...

http://www.tarragontheatre.com/
http://www.tomwaits.com/
http://www.robertwilson.com/