Pandemic Top 10

This blog has been in hibernation for most of the pandemic and now it’s time to finally rouse it from its virtual slumber. And, what better way to do so than by highlighting a few of the ways I passed the time during the pandemic. Like many other people, I read a lot of books, watched a lot of movies, listened to a lot of music, and did just about anything else I could to distract myself from the terrifying uncertainty created by the collision of a global health crisis and a rancorous election year. Let us never again repeat that particular convergence of events, shall we?

But, more than just numbing myself with all types of media and entertainment, I used the pandemic to get cozy once again with some old favorites, and find solace again in art and artists that I love. That was the best way for me to cope with a world that seemed increasingly close to turning into the Upside Down. For the most part it worked, and now I present the results of all the field research I did from home these past four years. 

Hud

Paul Newman: one of my favorite actors, and his performance in this gets my vote as the best of his early career. But also, Hud became my movie obsession during the pandemic. There was a moment or two where I was convinced that it could explain everything about the social-political-cultural moment we, as a society, found ourselves in during the previous presidential administration. No doubt I went a little crazy over this, but what else was I going to do while sitting at home contemplating orange skies? Also, I don’t think I was completely off base. I have a lot to say about this movie, and I may yet say it all in a future post. For now, it’s worth mentioning that I’m not the only person who was struck by this movie in a similar fashion during the pandemic. Also worth saying: Hud is a master class in film direction (thank you, Martin Ritt) that is anchored by a trio of outstanding performances from Newman, Patricia Neal, and Melvyn Douglas. If you watch it only for those reasons, you will not be disappointed.

Reference Books

In the days before the internet, we had hard copy reference books, and I was a big fan of them. During the pandemic, I started rebuilding my collection with the help of the onl ine secondhand market (precisely what the internet was made for, in my opinion). My favorites were always movie and music reference books, and I cannot tell you how thrilling it was to find replacement copies of two favorite sources of Oscar history, Len Lyons’ guide to essential jazz albums (as of 1980), and John Kobal’s survey of the greatest movies ever made (as of 1988). Best of all was tracking down a new copy of Première magazine’s Guide to Movies on Video, featuring their terrific end-of-the-decade list of the best movies of the 1980s. I spent many hours poring over these again, and it was divine.

The Criterion Collection

The pandemic was also the perfect excuse to double down on my love of hard copy media, specifically Criterion Blu-rays. I admittedly went a little nuts here: Do the Right Thing; sex, lies, and videotape; A Room With a View; Time Bandits; Local Hero; Matewan; The Adventures of Baron Munchausen – I bought them all, and many others. Totally in line with this blog’s mission, though, so I called it research. Also, the content, design, and packaging of all the Criterion editions is gorgeous and peerless. I love them.

Hard Copy Media

Speaking of Blu-rays, why stop at just Criterion? If I was going to stay at home indefinitely with limited movements in the outside world, then I was also going to go all in on the revival of my home video library. Kino Lorber, Warner Archives, and Amazon (of course) all helped me out here, and, again, I went a little overboard: The Verdict, Prizzi’s Honor, Time After Time, Victory, and Fandango, just to name a few. (Special thanks to my mother-in-law for the new copy of From Here to Eternity, and to my wife for the new copy of Richard Pryor Live on the Sunset Strip, both of which were perfectly timed gifts during the pandemic.)

Books About Strictly Back Catalgoue (SBC) Topics

I didn’t just sit around watching movies, though. There was a lot of pandemic reading, much of it relevant to SBC. I jumped head first into such enthralling volumes as Isaac Butler’s history of Method acting, Mark Harris’ excellent biography of Mike Nichols, Joe Hagan’s wild biography of Jann Wenner and the history of Rolling Stone magazine, Robin D.G. Kelley’s comprehensive biography of Thelonious Monk, and Julie Salomon’s classic behind-the-scenes movie exposé, The Devil’s Candy. These were just some of the highlights of an extended shelter-in-place spent doing a deep dive on all things SBC.

Streaming Platforms

I know: you’re about to remind me that streaming is too new to be truly considered back catalogue. To which I refer you to Francis Ford Coppola’s recent comments about streaming at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Which is all just my way of saying that there were a lot of classic TV shows running in my living room thanks to the magic of the 21st century’s dominant rental and exhibition format. My wife and I watched all of M*A*S*H*, Taxi, St. Elsewhere, The Golden Girls, Murder, She Wrote, and The Odd Couple, along with many others – and we enjoyed the hell out of every single one of them. The streamers easily justify their own existence by giving us the ability to watch most classic TV shows on demand like this.

De La Soul

Speaking of streaming, the entire De La Soul catalogue finally hit the streaming platforms after a notoriously difficult and well-documented journey to get there. I’ve written about them before, back when it was uncertain that their discography would ever enter the modern digital world, and I’m glad that is now a moot point. We were well out of the dangerous part of the pandemic by the time this happened, but it was still a cause for celebration at my house the day these albums appeared on Spotify. 3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul is Dead, and Buhloone Mindstate all went into heavy rotation for a couple of weeks, and they have remained staple listening over here ever since. Such a great gift to humanity as we all began to slowly emerge from our pandemic bunkers. 

Roger Ebert’s Collections of Bad Reviews

Did you know that, among Ebert’s prodigious bibliography, he published three volumes worth of reviews for movies he panned? And, boy, are they delicious. Nobody wrote a good takedown like he did. There is sarcasm galore here. Highlights include Ebert’s frequent invocation of the Gene Siskel test (“Is this movie more interesting than a documentary of the same actors having lunch?”), and his perfect takedown of Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo. These volumes got my wife and I through many a trying evening during the pandemic (they are so good, I read them aloud to her). Funny, insightful, and mercifully free of pomposity and self-importance, Ebert reads like the friendly-but-opinionated regular at your local bar. He is a top shelf cinephile who speaks both for and to the people.

Live Concerts

By the middle of 2022, I was vaccinated enough (and feeling comfortable enough) to try my hand at attending live concerts again, and I was glad that I did. It was absolutely fantastic to see live music again, and I hope to never take that for granted again. During the first week of June that year, I saw both Tears for Fears (pictured above) and Midnight Oil within days of each other. The following year, my wife and I saw the San Francisco Symphony twice within three months: the first time on Valentine’s Day, featuring guest conductor John Williams (yes, that John Williams) and violin virtuoso Anne-Sophie Mutter; the second time featuring jazz legend Branford Marsalis. These shows were all fantastic, and great reminders for me that there is nothing else like seeing world class artists do their thing live in person. Being in the same room with that kind of talent and skill generates its own kind of special energy, and I have always found that inspiring. 

Live Theater

There was also a return to attending live theater, which happened early in 2022 when my wife decided to jump into our local theater scene and start auditioning for shows. Since then, she has done everything from Shakespeare to Noel Coward to Agatha Christie to Frank Loesser, and I have seen every single one (spoiler alert: she is a rockstar). In addition to my wife’s emergence as a Bay Area theater superstar, I’ve also been able to see things, like A.C.T.’s production of A Strange Loop, the Broadway production of Back to the Future (pictured above), and Eddie Izzard’s Off-Broadway turn as Hamlet. Again, it was wonderful to be back in a dark room with total strangers having a shared communal experience, watching talented people cast their magic in person while doing so to serve the larger purpose of entertaining and enlightening the audience to the point of catharsis. I cannot tell you how glad I am that I stayed alive long enough to do that again.

The Daily Earworm Shuffle

Every day, I wake up humming a random song in my head. I have no idea why. That’s just the way my subconscious works. And, once I realized that this was a thing I did, I decided it would be interesting to keep track of these songs

So, I started building a Spotify playlist titled Daily Earworm.

I hadn’t listened to that playlist once since I started it over a year ago, but I still put stuff on there almost every day, and it’s over 13 hours long now.

So, this past week, I decided to finally give it a listen and remind myself what was on there, which has easily been one of the highlights of my home quarantine so far. Here’s a random sampling:

“Warning Sign,” Talking Heads: I first heard this on their live album, The Name of This Band is Talking Heads, but the version here is the original from their second album. This one slinks and moves like the live version, but is way more ominous and urgent. Could be the added studio polish, or it could be our current moment in time colliding with a song perfectly suited for it.

“What Goes On,” The Velvet Underground: Last month, I went through a few days where I was bummed out about the aftermath of Super Tuesday, for so many reasons, and the most effective emotional salve turned out to be listening to Lou Reed’s back catalogue. This was one of his tracks I rediscovered, a peppy little number that I always overlook because the idea of Lou Reed or The Velvets being this upbeat does not compute.

“She Gave Good Sunflower,” The Black Crowes: A great track for keeping one’s spirits up during an emergency run to the grocery store in the middle of a global pandemic.

“Street Theory,” Van Morrison: A total throwaway that proves, once again, that Van can get good and funky when he wants to.

“It’s Not Where You Start, It’s Where You Finish,” Tommy Tune: It’s easy to see why Tommy Tune became a Broadway star. As is the case with the best Broadway cast albums (in this case, Seesaw), he does such a great job with this song – and the song itself works so well as a musical theater number – I feel like I can see his performance while listening to it.

Absolute Zero,” Bruce Hornsby (featuring Jack DeJohnette): Another fascinating curiosity from Hornsby, whose facility with melody never fails to impress me, and whose melodies never fail to lodge themselves permanently in my brain.

“I Love Paris,” Frank Sinatra: I don’t actually remember waking up humming this one, but my wife was in Paris the week before our home quarantine started, so that must have been where this came from. Besides, one can never really have enough Sinatra on any playlist.

“Yakety Yak,” The Coasters:  Another one I don’t recall waking up humming, but one can never really have enough early Top 40 rock and roll on any playlist.

“Hello, Dolly!” Mary Martin: The morning after I saw the most recent national tour, it was this version of this iconic title song that I wanted to hear. No idea why.

“Teacher, Teacher,” Rockpile: A gem from the early 1980s rockabilly revival. The perfect gateway drug for going down a Nick Lowe / Dave Edmunds rabbit hole.

“Long Time,” The Roots: This went on heavy rotation the day after my wife and I saw them live in Oakland last fall. This earworm is stealthy as a mofo.

“Blinded by the Light,” Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: A sentimental favorite from the days when I first discovered classic rock. No apologies here.

“See Me Through, Pt. II / Just a Closer Walk with Thee,” Van Morrison: Nothing to see here except Van giving a well-known hymn from his youth the old Caledonia soul treatment. Would that church sounded like this all the time.

“What’cha Say,” The Meters: This track moves and grooves, and is as catchy as all get-out.

“High Flying, Adored,” Patti LuPone & Mandy Patinkin: I didn’t realize I had so many show tunes on this playlist. And, of all the tracks I could’ve picked from the Evita cast album, why did I pick this one? Does it matter? My subconscious is a mysterious place, but Patti and Mandy are always justified.

Tony Awards Pre-Gaming

With the Tony Awards coming up this weekend, it’s time to do a little pre-gaming in preparation for Broadway’s biggest night. Every year, there are at least a couple of magnificent excerpts from the nominated shows featured on the Tony broadcast, so we’ll have to wait until Sunday to see who gives this season’s breakout performances. In the meantime, allow me to take you on a guided tour of some of my favorite numbers from the past.

“We’ll Take a Glass Together” from Grand Hotel (1990)

Musical numbers have been featured at the Tony Awards since the ceremony’s broadcast television debut in 1967, but this is the number that raised the bar for all such performances moving forward. What is it about this one in particular? Tommy Tune‘s simple-but-inventive staging, for one thing (using a ballet barre as the bar: perfection). Also, Michael Jeter‘s joyously loose-limbed performance as Kringelein, the fatally ill accountant who wants to live his remaining days in luxury. In a Broadway season that had been dominated by Cy Coleman and David Zippel’s smash musical hit City of Angels, the surprising verve of this number took the 1990 Tony ceremony by storm and helped Grand Hotel stake its claim on the territory. The show took home five Tonys that night, including two for Tommy Tune’s direction and choreography, and a well-earned award for Jeter as Best Featured Actor in a Musical.

“Circle of Life” from The Lion King (1998)

The Lion King was the beginning of Disney’s foray into Broadway theater, and the big question was: how are they going to do a live-action version of anything from this movie? Viewers quickly got the answer at the 1998 Tony ceremony, as director Julie Taymor, a former doyenne of downtown New York theater, revealed her stunning creation. Watching it now, it’s clear from the outset that her signature style (which favors the use of masks and puppets) is perfect for this material. The Lion King won the Tony for Best Musical, Taymor became the first woman to win the Tony for Best Direction of a Musical, and this landmark production ushered in a new era of Broadway design.

Viola Davis in King Hedley II (2001)

Once upon a time, excerpts from plays also used to get airtime on the Tony Awards broadcast, and Viola Davis‘ fierce performance in August Wilson‘s King Hedley II is one of the reasons why. As Tonya, the beleaguered spouse of the title character, she lays into her husband about why she aborted the child that he so desperately wanted. Talking about such a hot-button issue so openly on a live award show was (and still is) daring, but, as is evident from this clip, Davis sells it with conviction. It’s easy to see why this performance launched her career, and earned her that year’s Tony for Best Featured Actress in a Play.

“Life in Living Color” / “Don’t Break the Rules” from Catch Me if You Can (2011)

The surprise showstopper of the 2011 Tony broadcast. Trey Parker and Matt Stone‘s musical juggernaut, The Book of Mormon, was the heavy favorite to win everything that year (and, for the most part, it did), so no one was paying much attention to Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman‘s musical adaptation of Steven Spielberg’s hit biopic (itself adapted from former con artist Frank Abagnale Jr.’s memoir). It was, therefore, doubly astonishing to see this high energy number – led by the irrepressible Norbert Leo Butz, no less, as FBI agent Carl Hanratty – steal the show. Catch Me if You Can shocked the Tonys a second time later that night when Butz pulled off an upset victory as Best Actor in a Musical. (Take that, Book of Mormon!)

“Ring of Keys” from Fun Home (2015)

In Lisa Kron and Jeanine Tesori‘s musical adaptation of the Alison Bechdel graphic novel, the protagonist (none other than Bechdel herself) reckons with her own sexual discovery and her father’s mysterious life at three different ages in her history. The youngest version, Small Alison, has a memorable moment of self-discovery in this striking number, as she encounters a butch lesbian for the first time. Kron and Tesori’s songwriting here is exemplary, and Sydney Lucas‘ lovely performance hits all of the right notes, as she swerves from startled unease to jubilation. The result was one of the most moving Tony performances from recent years, and the capstone of Fun Home‘s march towards that year’s Tony Award for Best Musical.

“History Has Its Eyes on You” / “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” from Hamilton (2016)

The musical number that shook the 2016 Tony broadcast. Lin-Manuel Miranda‘s landmark musical adaptation of Ron Chernow’s definitive biography took New York by storm the moment it opened. Everyone had been talking about the show for months, and Hamilton‘s performance at the Tonys was the first time the world-at-large got a good look at it. Could a show with that much buzz around it live up to all that hype? Never fear. Miranda & Co. delivered the goods, and then some. Everything that makes this show a phenomenon – the brilliant score, genius casting, humor, epic sweep, inventive staging and choreography – is all in this number: it’s an all-in-one Hamilton primer. This performance cemented the show’s legacy in the public eye, and served as its victory lap, as well: the production took home 11 Tony Awards, including the trophy for Best Musical.