OSCAR MICHEAUX: THE SUPERHERO OF BLACK FILMMAKING: a pioneer worth knowing about

OSCAR MICHEAUX: THE SUPERHERO OF BLACK FILMMAKING. Courtesy of TCM.

If you don’t know who Oscar Micheaux is, you should – so watch the documentary Oscar Micheaux: The Superhero of Black Filmmaking. As writer/director/producer, the African-American Michaeux created so-called “race films” – movies made for black audiences from a black perspective during the most shameful years of American racial segregation. Michaeux himself directed 42 feature films DURING Jim Crow.

There’s a lot in Oscar Micheaux: The Superhero of Black Filmmaking:

  • Micheaux’s pivotal sojourn in a cabin in, of all places, the Dakotas.
  • His very personal and hands-on distribution methods.
  • His discovery of Paul Robeson’s on-screen charisma, a full eight years before Robeson’s first Hollywood film (The Emperor Jones).
  • Micheaux’s comfort in portraying that most incendiary topic – interracial relationships. 
  • How he slyly bent rules to avoid censorship.

I have seen some Oscar Micheaux films, and their stories, freed of the White Hollywood lens, are eyeopening. They allowed black audiences to see big screen characters that acted like real African-American – not the degrading stereotypes in Hollywood movies.

That being said, Michaeux did not make “Noble Negro” movies. His work is authentic, and criticized, for example, black preacher-hucksters who exploit religious devotion in the African-American community for their own venal and carnal appetites.

Oscar Micheaux: The Superhero of Black Filmmaking features a solid panel of expert talking heads to explain Micheaux’s place in cinema and in African-American history. The most compelling are screenwriter Kevin Wilmott and University of Chicago cinema professor/TCM host Jaqueline Stewart. 

Animation is used sparingly and effectively, including one inspired segment to Gil Scott-Heron’s The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.

I watched Oscar Micheaux: The Superhero of Black Filmmaking on Turner Classic Movies, and it is streaming on HBO Max.

JAGGED: clear-eyed, but not that angry after all

Photo caption: Alanis Morissette in JAGGED. Courtesy of HBO.

Jagged is a surprisingly addictive biodoc of singer-songwriter Alanis Morissette, packed with Morissette’s own reflections. Jagged traces Morissette’s beginnings as a child prodigy and teen pop princess (big hair and all) to the point where she matured into an innovative songwriter and groundbreaking stadium act.

The deepest dive is appropriately on Morissette’s debut album Jagged Little Pill and the 18-month concert tour to support it. With sales of over 33 million, Jagged Little Pill is still the number one selling album by a woman. It’s amazing to reflect that Morissette was only 19-20 when writing the songs and only 20-21 on the tour.

Alanis Morissette in JAGGED. Courtesy of HBO.

Of course, Morissette’s breakthrough came with one of the bitterest of all breakup songs, You Oughta Know, raising the question of just how angry is she? Not at all, says Morissette, who notes that she released her anger in the writing of You Oughta Know and moved on.

Director Alison Klayman (Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry) takes us back to the 1994 media coverage, by male music writers, of Morissette as Angry Young Woman. Jagged takes advantage of lots of candid backstage/tour bus footage from the tour; and that Morissette is an even-tempered and playful person, not even temperamental, let alone raging.

In her years a teen pop singer, Morissette was allowed to tour the world without parental protection, which predictably made her vulnerable to exploitation by older men. It’s really worth watching Jagged to hear Morissette’s framing of how women publicly discuss sexual abuse years afterwards: “They weren’t silent. The culture wasn’t listening.”

Oddly, Morissette herself is unhappy with the documentary, calling it “salacious”. I thought that Klayton handled Morissette’s own words about her sexual abuse in a way that was the opposite of salacious. Klayton has Morissette present herself as insightful and well-grounded, which adds up to a flattering impression.

Jagged is streaming on HBO.

THE REAL CHARLIE CHAPLIN: as far as it goes

Photo caption: Charles Chaplin in THE REAL CHARLIE CHAPLIN. Courtesy of Showtime.

The biodocumentary The Real Charlie Chaplin has some insights, as far as it goes. The film aspires to cover these elements of Charlie Chaplin’s life and does a pretty good job:

  • the crushing poverty of his childhood,
  • his quick rise to world-wide celebrity,
  • his exploitation of his very young wives, and
  • his blacklisting.

The highlights are video interviews with Chaplin’s school mate and childhood neighbor Effie, an absolutely delightful old gal. Unusual for a celebrity biodoc, the filmmakers also do a good job in giving voice to Chaplin’s wives.

Of course, you have to pick and choose, and the filmmakers only reference Chaplin’s pioneering filmmaking as it pertains to his personal life. If you’re looking for insights into Chaplin’s artistic genius and innovations, look elsewhere.

The Real Charlie Chaplin is streaming on Showtime.

WITHOUT GETTING KILLED OR CAUGHT: her soul and her heart

Guy Clark holds his favorite photo of Susanna Clark in WITHOUT GETTING KILLED OR CAUGHT

The lyrical documentary Without Getting Killed or Caught is centered on the life of seminal singer-songwriter Guy Clark, a poetic giant of Americana and folk music. That would be enough grist for a fine doc, but Without Getting Killed or Caught also focuses on Clark’s wife, Susanna Clark, a talented painter (album covers for Willie Nelson and Emmylou Harris) and songwriter herself (#1 hit I’ll Be Your San Antone Rose). What’s more, Guy’s best friend, the troubled songwriter Townes Van Zandt, and Susanna revered each other. Van Zandt periodically lived with the Clarks – that’s a lot of creativity in that house – and a lots of strong feelings.

Susanna Clark said it thus, “one is my soul and the other is my heart.”

The three held a salon in their Nashville home, and mentored the likes of Rodney Crowell and Steve Earle. You can the flavor of the salon in the 1976 documentary Heartworn Highways (AppleTV, Vudu and YouTube). It features Townes Van Zandt’s rendition of his Waitin’ Round to Die. (Susanna was also a muse for Rodney Crowell, who, after her death, wrote the angry song Life Without Susanna.)

Documentarians Tamara Saviano and Paul Whitfield, have unearthed a great story, primarily sourced by Susanna’s diaries; Sissy Spacek voices Susanna’s words. These were artsy folks so there are plenty of exquisite photos of the subjects, too. It all adds up to a beautiful film, spinning the story of these storytellers.

Guy and Susanna Clark in WITHOUT GETTING KILLED OR CAUGHT

I loved this movie, but I’m having trouble projecting its appeal to a general audience, because I am so emotionally engaged with the subject material. I’m guessing that the unusual web of relationships and the exploration of the creative process is universal enough for any audience, even if you’re not a fanboy like me.

The title comes from Guy’s song LA Freeway, a hit for Jerry Jeff Walker:

I can just get off of this L.A. freeway

Without gettin’ killed or caught

There is plenty for us Guy Clarkophiles:

  • the back story for Desperados Waiting for a Train;
  • the identity of LA Freeway’s Skinny Dennis;
  • Guy’s final return from touring, with the declaration “let’s recap”.

There’s also the story of Guy’s ashes; the final resolution is not explicit in the movie but you can figure it out; here’s the story.

Without Getting Killed or Caught is in very limited theatrical run; I saw at the Balboa in its last Bay Area screening.

SEARCHING FOR MR. RUGOFF: the best movie taste in any barbarian

Photo caption: SEARCHING FOR MR. RUGOFF. Photo courtesy of Deutchman Company.

The documentary Searching for Mr. Rugoff is the story of a now-unknown giant in independent cinema. I was drawn to learn more about Donald Rugoff, whom I hadn’t heard of, because he was responsible for the US distribution of a slate of essential foreign and independent films that were the spine of American art house cinema:

  • Bruce Brown’s seminal surf movie Endless Summer (1965)
  • Milo Forman’s international breakthrough The Fireman’s Ball (1966)
  • Robert Downey, Sr.’s iconoclastic Putney Swope (1968)
  • Costa-Gavras’ double Oscar winning Z (1968) and State of Siege (1972)
  • The Mayles’ Rolling Stones-at-Altamont doc Gimme Shelter (1970)
  • De Sica’s The Garden of the Finzi-Continis (1970)
  • the great doc about a child faith healer grown up, Marjoe (1972)
  • one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen, The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe (1972)
  • Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage (1973)
  • Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
  • Barbara Kopple’s Oscar winning Harlan County, USA (1976)
  • and more films by Ken Loach, Marcel Ophüls, Lina Wertmüller, Werner Herzog, Agnes Varda, François Truffaut and Satyajit Ray.

As we learn in Searching for Mr. Rugoff:

From 1965 to 1978 [Rugoff’s company] Cinema 5 received 25 Oscar nominations and 6 Oscars. 16 nominations were for foreign language films, 6 were for documentaries.

Ira Deutchman made this film when he heard that Rugoff, his first boss, had ended up buried in a pauper’s grave; (watch the movie to discover the truth on that).

However, Donald Rugoff was notoriously disheveled and unpleasant.  He always had two secretaries posted outside his office because of the high probability that one would quit at any time. He was so volatile that many of his associates incorrectly believed that he had a steel plate in his head that affected his behavior. His own son describes him as a “toxic figure” in the home.

So, there we have it – the guy with the best possible movie taste and the most elevated artistic sensibilities was personally a barbarian.

He was, however, also a mad genius of PT Barnum-like promotion. Until times changed and he wasn’t. Rugoff’s life was a wild ride – and it was critical to an important moment in cinema.

Searching for Mr. Rugoff is opening in person at and streaming from the Roxie. I streamed it from Laemmle.

RESPECT: struggling to take command of her own artistry

Jennifer Hudson in RESPECT

Aretha Franklin was, if anything, formidable, and Jennifer Hudson reaches formidability as Aretha in Respect. Hudson (handpicked by Aretha to star in her own biopic) is sensitive enough to play the ambitious but confidence-challenged young Aretha and brassy enough to soar as the diva that Aretha became.

Respect concentrates on three stages of Aretha’s life – her childhood in the 1950s, her uncertain career at Columbia Records in 1960-65 and her creative partnership with Jerry Wexler, beginning in 1967, that led to stardom. The film culminates with the1972 live gospel album that we can now watch in the 2019 film Amazing Grace.

The common thread in Respect is Aretha’s learning to push back on the attempts by men to control her artistically, financially and intimately. The film’s high point is Aretha finally getting the opportunity, in a Muscle Shoals recording session, to impose her own creativity on I Never Loved a Man (Like the Way I Love You); we’re able to watch the instant that Aretha transforms herself into an icon. Hudson also delivers killer versions of Respect, Amazing Grace, Natural Woman and (my personal favorite) Think.

During much of the film, 12-year-old actress Skye Dakota Turner, plays a ten-year-old Aretha (and she’s heartbreakingly great). Aretha’s formative years were startlingly unusual. For one thing, as the daughter of a celebrity minister dad and a celebrity gospel singer mom, she was unusually privileged for a black youngster in the 1950’s – she was spared poverty and grew up in a home where MLK himself, Dinah Washington and gospel music legend James Cleveland were frequent guests. On the other hand, her broken home was unhealthy enough that Aretha became pregnant at age 12, and again at age 14. She emerged well-connected – and severely traumatized.

Forest Whitaker is, as one would expect, excellent in the pivotal role of Franklin’s father, C.L. Franklin. The cast is uniformly excellent including Audra MacDonald as Aretha’s mom, Kimberly Scott as her grandmother, Marc Maron as Jerry Weinberg, Marlon Wayans as her seamy first husband, and Mary. J. Blige as Dinah Washington.

Respect is 2 hours, 25 minutes long, and could have been better if 15-20 minutes shorter. Nevertheless, it gives us a sound view of the factors that molded Aretha Franklin’s personality, and her struggles to take command of her own artistry.

THE BIG PICTURE: Christopher Guest before the mockumentaries

Kevin Bacon and Michael McKean in THE BIG PICTURE

Pre-mockumentary, Christopher Guest’s first feature as a director was The Big Picture (1989), a pointed satire of modern Hollywood. It’s not as vicious as Robert Altman’s The Player, and not as funny as Guest’s own brilliant mockumentaries, but you can glimpse Guest’s path to realizing his comic genius.

In this cautionary comedy, Nick (Kevin Bacon), a young director, wins a prestigious student film competition and suddenly finds himself Hollywood’s new Bright and Shiny Thing. Movie studios and agents clamor over him, and Nick moves to LA with his architect girlfriend (Emily Longstreth) and cinematographer and best friend (Michael McKean) for his first big movie; all three newcomers are very naive. Nick is soon dazzled by promises of fame and money (and Teri Hatcher’s body), loses his way and betrays his girlfriend and his best friend.

Kevin Bacon and Teri Hatcher in THE BIG PICTURE

Along the way, Nick hires a wacky agent (Martin Short) and encounters a range of Hollywood Suits, and there are lots of funny moments. My favorites are pitches for a beach party sexploitation movie and an Abe and Babe buddy picture (about Abe Lincoln and Babe Ruth).

The cast also includes the always welcome J.T. Walsh and Jennifer Jason Leigh at her most comically kooky (joyously manic but hinting at emotional damage underneath). Watch for John Cleese as the bartender Frankie. And then there’s Teri Hatcher, ravishing even in an unfortunate 1980s hairstyle.

Jennifer Jason Leigh and Kevin Bacon in THE BIG PICTURE

The Big Picture follows Rob Reiner’s 1984 This Is Spinal Tap, which Guest co-wrote and in which he starred in as the dim guitarist Nigel Tufnel, who sets his amp to eleven. In 1996, Guest followed The Big Picture with Waiting for Guffman, which launched his string of mockumentaries – Best in Show (his masterpiece), A Mighty Wind, For Your Consideration and Mascots.

I watched The Big Picture on on Turner Classic Movies, and it streams from Amazon, Vudu and YouTube.

Emily Longstreth and Kevin Bacon in THE BIG PICTURE

THE SPARKS BROTHERS: must be seen to be believed

Photo caption: Russell Mael and Ron Mael in THE SPARKS BROTHERS. Photo by Jake Polonsky, courtesy of Sundance Institute.

The Sparks Brothers is Edgar Wright’s affectionate documentary on a pop band that has been active for 54 years (and that I had never heard of). The band is Sparks, comprised of brothers Ron and Russell Mael, and The Sparks Brothers is one fun movie.

Ron writes the songs and plays keyboards, and Russell is the singer and front man. In the film, Sparks is described as “the best British pop band to come out of America” and “a snaky lead singer for the ladies and then the Hitler mustache”. Sparks was first produced by Todd Rungren, of all people, in 1967. (Both Rungren and Russell Mael were dating Miss Christine of the GTOs.) Pop success eluded them until they surged in the UK in 1974-75.

Then Sparks pioneered electro dance a couple years too early, came to hard rock a little late, and have kept moving on to the next project and musical style that interests them. Of course, that approach doesn’t let their fans get comfortable.

A musician says, “they don’t care about money or fame – just art for art’s sake”, which isn’t EXACTLY true. The Maels really DO want their music to be heard, and they really DO want to be popular and famous. They just won’t compromise artistically to get there.

What they WILL do is work with remarkable stamina and discipline. This is the rock first rock documentary I’ve seen without somebody’s serious drug use being a point of deflection. These guys marry an intense work ethic with their often bizarre art.

Their stage presence is remarkable. With his pretty boy looks and charisma, Russell bounds about as the quintessential front man. Ron silently stands behind his keyboard, posing with his, well, Hitler mustache (which he has now replaced with a pencil mustache).

Above all, Sparks is ever playful, and The Sparks Brothers is very funny. They match their stage persona with lyrics like “dinner for 12 is now dinner for 10 because I’m under the table with her“. Ron and Russell Mael themselves kick off the movie with a hilariously deadpan questionnaire.

Their performances are fun and witty, and their music is peppy and catchy. The overt humor sometimes masks lyrics that are poignant and even despairing.

Growing up in LA, Ron and Russell cherished their boyhood weekend matinees with their dad, filled with Westerns and war movies. As artsy UCLA students, they admired Ingmar Bergman and French New Wave cinema as much as they did The Who and the Kinks, They had lined up a movie project themselves with the great auteur Jacques Tati that fell through because of Tati’s health. In the 1990s, they invested six years in trying to make the Japanese manga Mai, the Psychic Girl as a movie musical with director Tim Burton. When that movie also died, they were devastated.

Happily, they have written the screenplay for a movie which has actually been finished. Annette, directed by Leo Carax (Holy Motors) and starring Adam Driver and Marion Cotillard, is coming out later this summer,

I may not love their music or think that Spark is important, but I sure like these guys. The Spark Brothers is a delight, and it’s damn funny, too.

THAT GUY DICK MILLER: putting the “character” in “character actor”

Photo caption: THAT GUY DICK MILLER

The entertaining documentary That Guy Dick Miller is about an actor whose name you may not place, but that you’ve seen. It’s a straight-ahead documentary about a delightfully offbeat guy.

Dick Miller amassed 184 screen credits as a protégé of legendary independent filmmaker and schlockmeister Roger Corman.  Along the way, he rubbed shoulders with indie film icons Jack Nicholson, Paul Bartel and Mary Woronov, John Sayles, Martin Scorsese and Quentin Tarantino.

Miller’s career started in 1955 as an Indian in the Roger Corman-directed Western Apache Woman and then Corman’s The Little Shop of Horrors, The Terror, The Wild Angels and The Trip. Continuing as the king of the low budget movies, Miller went on to work for a second generation of Corman acolyte directors and then plunged full throttle into horror films.  Miller was the unfortunate Murray Futterman in Gremlins and Uncle Willie in Tales from the Crypt: Demon Knight.

On the screen and off, Dick Miller was glib and Bronx-accented, the quintessential wiseacre. In That Guy Dick Miller, we get to meet Miller and his wife Lainey; it’s clear the the two of them were lots of fun to be around. Irresistibly a card, Miller is even bawdy when he recalls his appearance in Night Call Nurses, a 1972 sexploitation film (that I actually saw in a drive-in 1972). 

On screen, Miller always swung for the fences, no matter how small the part.  Lots of actors play the ticket-taker or the security guard, but it’s Dick Miller that you remember for those minuscule roles.

Dick Miller as Walter Paisley, getting smooched in A BUCKET OF BLOOD

Miller is most well known for the lead character, Walter Paisley, in the beatnik-flavored cult film A Bucket of Blood. Miller appeared over ten more times as different characters named with some version of Walter Paisley. In fact, his final role was as Rabbi Walter Paisley in Hannukah, which opened after his death in 2019.

That Guy Dick Miller was recommended to me by Sandy Wolf, who had screened it as a Cinequest submission. However, That Guy Dick Miller premiered at SXSW instead of at Cinequest.

That Guy Dick Miller can be streamed from Amazon (included with Prime).

STREET GANG: HOW WE GOT TO SESAME STREET: the origin story of an institution

Caption: A scene from Marilyn Agrelo’s film STREET GANG: HOW WE GOT TO SESAME STREET. Courtesy of SFFILM

There’s a lot to like about Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street, a documentary as charming as the beloved TV series. As groundbreaking as it was, Sesame Street is now a 51-year-old institution, and its origin saga has not been well-known. Most of the key players survive, allowing director Marilyn Agrelo to present the first-hand back story.

We take the concept for granted today, based on the recognition that kids voraciously learn from commercial television – they learn to consume commercially marketed products. Sesame Street’s founders aimed to find out what kids like to watch and what is good for them to watch and put the two together.

Refreshingly. the pioneering producer Joan Ganz Cooney, the visionary Lloyd Morrisette of the Carnegie Foundation and the inventive director/head writer Jon Stone, each gives the credit to the others. If you add Mister Rogers to these folks, you have the Mount Rushmore of children’s television.

Everything in Sesame Street was intentional – like the street setting itself. Noting that most kid shows had fantasy settings, the creators chose a gritty urban neighborhood street to be relatable to disadvantaged urban kids. The same is true for the integrated cast.

Of course, Street Gang highlights the role of the Muppets. At first, the Muppets had their own set, but the creators learned that kids were so entertained by the Muppets that they found the street boring. So, they pivoted and brought the Muppets on to the street.

Jim Henson founded the Muppets as a late night satirical act and brought that adult sensibility to Sesame Street. The jokes embedded for adults encouraged parents to watch Sesame Street with their kids (which the educators thought was important).

There is also the astounding story of Sesame Street in Mississippi, where state government-controlled public television refused to air a show with an integrated cast. Those stations had to reverse themselves when private Mississippi stations put the show on the air.

This had not occurred to me, but Sesame Street requires creation of original music for 100 episodes per year – an enormous body of work. Street Gang takes us into the songwriting craft, with witty gems like Letter B (from Let It Be).

I screened Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street at SFFILM in April. It is widely available to stream today.