Tag: Sparks

ANNETTE – Review

This weekend sees the release of a “follow-up” film to a delightful documentary I had the pleasure of reviewing about two months ago. Yes, you read that right. This can be called a “follow-up” rather than a sequel or even a “spin-off”. The previous feature doc in question was the adoring film “fan letter” from Edgar Wright all about the fifty-year-plus musical partnership of the Mael brothers, Ron and Russell, the duo behind the rock and roll band known as Sparks (that doc’s title was the fittingly-named THE SPARKS BROTHERS). The early part of that film told of the brothers’ love of film, as they delved into the “New Wave” classics of the 60s while in college, and made some “cinema” themselves. After their music success, they hoped to branch into the movies with proposed collaborations with (most famously) Jacques Tati and Tim Burton. To the Maels’ consternation, none of them materialized, and aside from their many music videos that were in near-constant rotation on MTV (yes, they ran music videos), their only feature film work was as themselves playing at an amusement park in the 70s Sensurround “potboiler” ROLLERCOASTER. But there was hope as the doc’s last minutes told of a movie musical that was going forward (they did both the songs and script). And here it is finally. That long-in-the-works Sparks-created flick is simply called ANNETTE.

Fittingly one of the first images we see is Ron and Russell in a recording studio as they lead the film’s opening song, which has the main characters and several minor ones singing and walking down the neon-lit nighttime streets of LA. They soon split up as the story unfolds. And, at its beginning, it’s a love story between two unlikely loves at the near-opposite ends of the entertainment industry. Ann (Marion Cotillard) is a celebrated operatic soprano, selling out orchestra halls and classical music venues all over the planet. Henry (Adam Driver) is a performance artist/stand-up comic, whose one-man show “The Ape of God” has a fervent following that packs the theatres nearly every night. And after he finishes his angry, often sick and twisted, rants he hops on his motorcycle and scoops up Ann, whisking her away from her “stage door” admirers, much to the delight of the “paparazzi and theTV show biz reports. Their passion leads to a secret wedding, and later to a daughter, Annette. But then things change, professionally at first. As Ann’s star continues to rise, Henry’s career begins a fast descent, as his fans reject his darker, more intimate screeds. A restorative vacation at sea ends in tragedy, which somehow inspires an unexpected, miraculous change in Annette. Could his daughter somehow inspire a new chapter in Henry’s life, or will Ann’s former accompanist, now an orchestra conductor (Simon Helberg) derail Henry’s plans for himself and his “uniquely gifted” baby girl?

Driver dominates this musical drama experiment as the glowering, mostly anti-social, angry all-the-time Henry, only managing a semi-smile when he’s around Ann or his infant. Luckily he possesses a strong singing voice, which helps in advancing the tale somewhat. And though he’s clearily a parody of the stadium-filling 1990s misogynistic mega-stars, his Henry never really commands the stage despite his turning his microphone into a nose-smashing bolo, Cotillard is a more serene, calming presence as Ana, though her singing voice doesn’t quite fill the cavernous venues we see her work, and often a considerable distance from the audience. And while she conveys well Ann’s explosion of erotic ecstasy, we can’t quite buy them as a domestic couple, as Henry looms over Ann at every other moment. Helberg lightens things up a bit as the never-named “conductor” (which Henry calls him in a song as “my conductor friend”), especially in his big solo number. As he details his unfulfilled passion for Ann, he tells us “Excuse me for a moment” as he whips a full orchestra (and a chorus) into a rousing crescendo.

Oh my, where to start. Yes, that opening group number is catchy, but the rest of the songs just evaporate as they drift past our ears. Now there are stretches of spoken dialogue, but the singing drops in at the oddest times, almost to the point of camp. Henry can warble a melody as he…well…performs his “husbandly duties” in one of many achingly awkward sex scenes. Ah, but Ann gets equal time as she tosses off a tune while smoking and “takin’ care a’ bizness'” while on the “throne”. Oh, about the smoking…yecch! Driver’s Henry puffs away while shadow-boxing and eating a banana (!) in prep for his concerts (he really chain-smokes through the whole darn thing). And when he does make his stage entrance he sputters and hacks as he complains about the cloud of stage smoke (ala solo singers) he walks through. And who knows why he tosses off the chorus of Tom Lehrer’s “National Brotherhood Week” (now there’s a classic song), much to the delight of his lemming-like fans, who along with a quartet of lady singers (a comic has backup singers) form a massive “Greek chorus”. This is one of many bizarre choices of director Leos Carax. A scene at sea has a rear projection backdrop that would be more at home in a 50s “B” picture. But I’m skirting around the “elephant in the room”, namely the title character of Annette. Though she’s hidden in the trailer, other media news outlets have let the “secret” out. It is a puppet, or to be more precise a marionette, one that looks to have hopped (or skittishly glided) out of an early 70s Gerry Anderson kids sci-fi show. When I came to the realization, I was stunned (I can imagine movie audiences with their mouths agape similar to the reaction to “Springtime for Hitler” in the 1967 THE PRODUCERS). A friend explained to me how a doll or puppet is a staple of stage operas. Well, this is a movie and it couldn’t be more distracting. Whew, glad I vented. But this is representative of the stilted script from the Maels brothers that combines elements of so many basic cable TV “marriage misery” films with, not joking here, the theme of the Chuck Jones Looney Tunes classic “One Froggy Evening” (sorry Mr. Jones and Michigan J.) This is pretentious “artsy-schmartzy” drek that aspires to be a scathing commentary on the times. I just hope that theatre owners make sure that their now spartan staff have plenty of “return” screening passes for patrons who can’t make it through all 140 excruciating minutes (it would be barely tolerable as an extended music video or an experimental short), I think the “Sparks brothers’ are talented music-makers, but…maybe Tati and Burton really wisely listened to their instincts. At least I can say that the scenes of LA at night, as Henry races down the Sunset Strip, are well done. But as for the drivel around those scenes, well, somebody please toss a net over ANNETTE (let me at least delight in a pun)! Hey Geppetto, come get yer’ kid!

One-Half Out of 4

ANNETTE is now playing in select theatres

THE SPARKS BROTHERS – Review

Now, this is turning out to be quite the unusual weekend, at the movies (though things are still a bit strange in general as we stumble back a “normal”). Another engaging “show biz” documentary feature debuts the same day as the superb profile of prolific performer Rita Moreno. At some venues, they may actually be playing next to each other, or across the multiplex hallway. While that elegant EGOT made a name for herself in music (see, the G for Grammy is right there), this other flick delves into the story of a rock band. But they do have another big thing in common: longevity. Ms. M has been performing for 80 years (and in the movies for 73), this duo has been putting out recordings (24 albums so far) for 50 years. Still, they’re considered by some as a “cult” rather than a mainstream act (their legions of devoted rapid fans would vehemently argue this). And somehow scandal has never threatened to split these siblings, unlike Oasis and the Bee Gees. The stage name for the band is Sparks, which they prefer to the moniker that some record studio marketers came up with as a “sort of” tribute to Groucho, Chico, Harpo, and (sometimes) Zeppo. So if you meet these talented fellows, don’t call them THE SPARKS BROTHERS.

The doc logically begins with the brothers, Ron and Russell Mael. filmed in black and white against a solid blank backdrop. That same treatment is given to their many fans, some quite famous, who pop up to sing their praises before the big “origin story” begins in earnest. And they surprised me right at the start by revealing that they grew up in Pacific Palisades, CA! All these years I was certain (along with lotsa’ folks) that they were British or perhaps German! The two (Ron’s the elder) were smitten with the “British Invasion” (Mom drove them to Vegas for a Beatles concert). The arts were in their blood as their father was a busy commercial artist/illustrator (I thought of a dad-version of Richard Jenkins’ character in THE SHAPE OF WATER). But the guys were football stars who slowly drifted into music and film. During their college time they formed the band “Urban Renewal Project” which became “Halfnelson” before finally becoming Sparks when they signed with Warner Brothers records. The label set them up on a series of live gigs in rough “dive bars”. Russell even split his head open doing a botched “bit” with a prop mallet. Relocating to Europe, they began to garner a following as they “locked down” their on-stage persona. Russell was the “pop idol” frontman (one ex-producer calls him “the cutie-pie”) playing to the screaming teen girls while Ron awkwardly, almost robotically, played the keyboard while giving the audience a creepy glare. Oh, and that facial hair! This prompted Shelly Winters to ask Pete Townsend on the old Dick Cavett talk show, “What’s the deal with that guy in the Hitler mustache?!”. They never took themselves too seriously which irked some critics while delighting their followers. Albums had pun titles like “Kimino My House” while photos on the “Propaganda” album showed them bound and gagged as though they’re being abducted by sinister forces. The doc traces the ups and downs of their career as they deal with changing music tastes, even working with “disco kingpin” Giorgio Moroder, and collaborating with other musicians like Jane Wiedlin of the Go-Gos. And all the while they keep creating while continuing to enjoy each other’s company, even as they attempt the near-impossible: the 2008 “Sparks Spectacular”, a 21-day concert experience in which they performed an entire album, live in chronological order, every night. Now, that’s dedication, perhaps mixed with a bit of madness.

And here’s another surprise, though not quite in the “They’re Americans!” bombshell. This is the first documentary by Edgar (BABY DRIVER) Wright. Good move, in case he tires of fiction. The affection he has for the film’s subjects is palpable, to the point of joining in with the other “talking heads”. Still, he doesn’t gloss over the band’s missteps and flops. They finally scored a slot on the BBC TV staple “Top of the Pops”, only to get pulled minutes before airtime. And there is the brothers’ flirtation with film, working on unmade projects with Jacques Tati and Tim Burton (too bad he didn’t drop in and explain the whole “Mai, the Psychic Girl’ fiasco). Oh, it looks like they’ll be doing the songs for a new movie musical, ANNETTE, so ya’ just gotta’ hang on. And that’s another of the story’s big themes: never throwing in the towel. When they come to a “brick wall’, the duo forms a new route past it. Wright uses lots of clever animation techniques to balance out the interviews and archival footage. There are manipulated paper cut-outs, stop motion puppets and good ole’ hand-drawn 2D cell animation. Not that the commenters get tedious, mind you. There are comic actors such as Mike Myers and Patton Oswald along with writer Neil Gaimen and so many musicians/fans from Beck to members of Duran Duran. One of the most articulate is ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic, who naturally digs their snarky sense of humor. Plus there are stories from hardcore non-celeb Sparks fans. Most swoon over the dreamy Russell, but an unexpectedly large number are drawn to the eccentric Ron (they go wild over his clumsy dance moves, highlighted by his frozen maniacal grimace) Of course the Maels “geek out” sometimes as when Paul McCartney mimicked Ron in his “Get On Up” music video. Viewers of “rock docs’ (like MTV’s “Behind the Music”) may anticipate a big clash or blow-up. It never comes, no drug-fueled rants, or bruised egos, or even manipulating romantic partners. The two seem to mesh better than most siblings. We see Ron driving to Russell’s modest studio/home as though he’s going into his 9-to-5 job. And somehow that creative zeal is still there. That and a desire to try new things and never “play it safe”. Here’s hoping that this lovingly produced ode to THE SPARKS BROTHERS inspires several more generations of artists and musicians. And make sure you stick around for the wacky and wondrous end credits. The boys know how to send you out smiling.

3.5 Out of 4

THE SPARKS BROTHERS opens in select theatres everywhere on Friday, June 18, 2021