Long chided for its lack of a clear narrative, L'Avventura was awarded the Jury Prize at the 1960 Cannes Film Festival and made Italian actress Monica Vitti an international star. Directed by Michelangelo Antonioni, the film starred Gabriele Ferzetti as Sandro, Vitti as Claudia, Lea Massari as Anna and Dominique Blanchar as Giulia. In short, the film is about the disappearance of a young woman (Massari) during a boating trip in the Mediterranean, and the subsequent search for her by her lover (Gabriele Ferzetti) and her best friend (Vitti).
L'Avventura has been called everything from the greatest film ever made to the most bewildering. I come down closer to the former. But then again, I had the good fortune of having a terrific Italian cinema professor in college. Before the screening, she said something along these lines: "Don't let your brain see this film. If you do, it will ruin the experience by struggling to connect dots and find a storyline. You will wind up frustrated and miss the point. Instead, get lost in the film with your eyes. Experience the mood, study the characters and their expressions, and pay attention to how you feel." As Sandro says to Anna before her disappearance, "Words are becoming less and less necessary." [Photo above of Monica Vitti and Gabriele Ferzetti]
If you follow my professor's advice, you'll discover the film's essence—the dreariness of hollow people, the acrid landscape of empty souls, the chronic need to be loved but never knowing what love means, the meaningless lives of the self-centered, the compulsive need to destroy beauty, the symbolism of spilled ink, the nagging suspicions of the aimless, the insomnia of the bored, the symbolism of Jean Harlow and the ultimate surrender to infidelity and enabling it.
As with Jeanne Moreau, Anouk Aimée and Claudia Cardinale, I could watch Monica Vitti all day long in virtually any film. Her intensity and eternal despair remain potent. As for Antonioni, L'Avventura was the first in a trilogy of mood films that included La Notte (1961), which I screened last year, and L'Eclisse (1962), which I was going to screen this year but passed when I couldn't find a high-resolution print. Perhaps next year. [Photo above of Monica Vitti]
After you watch, I urge you to read the Wikipedia entry for L'Avventura, in particular the section on the film's production. It's astonishing the film was even completed given the harsh circumstances and conditions the cast and crew faced while shooting on the Aeolian Islands. [Photo above of Monica Vitti and director Michelangelo Antonioni]
Here, then, is L'Avventura (1960), the perfect New Year's Eve film. Expand the frame to the full size of your computer or television screen...
Before big-beat pop and blues rock became the rage in London in 1963, jazz was still hip music for young adults. In 1961, All Night Long was filmed in London and released the following year. The jazz-themed neo-noir drama directed by Basil Dearden starred a range of British and American actors: Patrick McGoohan (Danger Man, The Prisoner), Marti Stevens, Paul Harris, Keith Michell, Richard Attenborough and Betsy Blair.
The story is a reboot of Shakespeare's Othello and is set in a London jazz club. The action takes place in a single evening, during an anniversary party. The black-and-white movie features several major British jazz musicians, including Tubby Hayes and Johnny Dankworth. It also showcases American jazz artists Dave Brubeck and Charles Mingus, who were in the U.K. at the time in '61 and were recruited to play roles in the film. The movie also features one of the finest brassy jazz scores. [Photo above of Paul Harris and Marti Stevens in All Night Long]
A special thanks to Bill Kirtz who found a link to the rare movie. To view All Night Long,go here...
I'm a big fan of English spy films shot during World War II. With Britain at war with Nazi Germany since 1939, the film industry there had a huge responsibility to raise spirits, emphasize what they were fighting for and keep the nation's morale up. There are many of these films, often focused on espionage, presumably to remind the population to remain keenly aware of people acting suspicious, asking strange questions and participating in what could be plots against the war effort.
Yellow Canary, released in 1943, was one of these films. Directed by Herbert Wilcox, the film starred Anna Neagle, Richard Greene and Albert Lieven. Though the film is quick to announce straight off that the characters in the film are fictional, Neagle's role was loosely based on Unity Mitford, an English socialite and Nazi sympathizer. Neagel was hugely popular in Britain for her beauty and brimming optimism in films, especially during the war. She and Wilcox married the year this film was released. Yellow Canary was also released in the U.S., mostly likely to remind those with isolationist views of why America was back in Europe defending a long-time strategic ally. [Photo above of Anna Neagle]
An interesting note. Perhaps due to a film shortages, instead of shooting with multiple cameras, some scenes were shot with one, with the camera briskly rotated to capture the other person's reaction or dialogue. You'll notice these swivel cuts throughout, which add to Yellow Canary's quaintness and charm. [Photo above of actor Richard Greene]
If you have already poured out that glass of port and settled in, here's Yellow Canary (1943)...
Two of my favorites in one film—Katharine Hepburn and Venice, and in Technicolor to boot! If you're an incorrigible romantic like me and haven't been away in some time due to the pandemic, you're in luck. Summertime, directed and co-written by David Lean, was shot on location, and the color in this print is sumptuous. This is Lean, before he directed The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), Doctor Zhivago (1965) and A Passage to India (1984).
Summertime is about an unmarried secretary who goes to Venice on a summer vacation to fulfill a lifelong dream and finds love. I hesitate to tell you much more about the film for fear of giving things away, but when you're done, visit the film's Wikipedia page (here), which features a number of interesting reveals about specific scenes. The film co-starred Rossano Brazzi, an Italian actor who moved to Hollywood in 1948 and was in numerous American films. The music is by Alessandro Cicognini, who scored more than 100 Italian films.
Make yourself a cappuccino and grab a few biscotti. Here'sSummertime (1955)...
Today marks the start of the third annual JazzWax Film Festival. Each December, between the holidays, I switch from music to film and hopefully introduce you to films you haven's seen in some time or have never viewed before.
For my opener, I'm screening Killer B3, a fabulous 2013 documentary on the Hammond B3 organ directed, produced and written by Murv Seymour. The documentary was filmed between 2005 and 2013 and received funding independent of Hammond Suzuki USA.
Murv has allowed me to offer this film to you for free with a special password. Please note, this password will expire New Year's Day. So you have from now until then to view the film. Then you're out of luck unless you purchase the DVD (information below). If you'd like to make a donation for seeing the film, go here.
As a JazzWax reader, here's how to view the film: To access the documentary's landing page, go here. The page will say, "This video is private." Simply type the following password into the space bar—killerb3vip2015—and click "Submit."
You're good to go. And don't forget, you can watch it over and over until Saturday, when the password expires. Don't email me on Saturday to complain that you just heard about this streaming now and want to view the film. There won't be anything I can do about it. Enjoy while it lasts! If you want to view bonus clips, go here.
As is the case every Christmas, it's time for Julie London's Christmas album that never was. London, for whatever reason, never recorded a holiday album, just one side of a 45. So several years ago, I assembled all of her seasonal tracks for a faux release. London is a favorite of mine. She had a cool, sultry singing style that never felt forced. Her sophisticated, hip phrasing was deeply nocturnal and consistently relaxed. And she loved off-beat songs and aced them with a beckoning delivery backed by seemingly effortless vocal power. [Photo above of Julie London and Les Brown at a recording session in 1957, by Leonard McCombe for Life magazine]
I've long wondered why London resisted recording a holiday LP. Her sole holiday side of a 45—I'd Like You for Christmas (1957)—was written by her husband, Bobby Troup. Did London keep the Yule at arm's length because she thought recording a holiday album would be square? Or did her label, Liberty Records, decide to avoid one to preserve her with-it image? Or maybe she recorded one but it's lost among dozens of other forgotten reels in some vault.
And why should we be London-less this time of year? So I crafted a London holiday album by assembling her winter-themed tracks. I playfully named it Julie London Wishes You a Merry Christmas. This year, once again, it's time to give a listen to my phantom London Christmas classic using eight seasonal songs:
In The Wall Street Journal this week, my "Anatomy of a Song" column was on the Carpenters' Merry Christmas Darling (go here). I interviewed Richard Carpenter on the composing of the music and the origin of the words written by Frank Pooler in 1946, the year Richard was born. Twenty years later, Richard met Pooler in college, the Carpenters became successful four years later, a single was needed between albums and rest is holiday history. [Photo above of Karen and Richard Carpenter, courtesy of IMDB]
Here's Karen and Richard Carpenter on the U.K.'s Bruce Forsyth's Big Night, which aired on December 24, 1978. The "Happy Christmas, Brucie" she sings at the end isn't for American radio DJ Cousin Brucie but a shout out to Forsyth...
Also in the WSJ this week, my "House Call" interview was with actress Hayley Mills (go here). Hayley and I talked by video Zoom about how she was discovered and what it was like to win an Oscar at age 14. [Photo above of Hayley Mills courtesy of Grand Central Press]
Here is Hayley is in the trailer for her first film, Tiger Bay (1959)....
Starting on Monday, the return of the JazzWax Film Festival, during which I suspend music coverage to provide you with my favorite films each day between Christmas and New Year's. No matter where you are in the world next week, even if you're stuck indoors due to Zombiecrom, you won't be alone. Get your laptop, blanket and snacks. I'll provide the movies.
Holiday cheer. They're back! Mae and Louise. Last week, I heard from jazz vocalist Louise Alexandra in the Netherlands, who sent along a very funny video of Louise and her daughter, Mae Van Aarsen, singing and acting revised lyrics to Frank Loesser's Baby It's Cold Outside. To be honest, I like their version a lot more than Loesser's, which has come under scrutiny in recent years for its sexist narrative. Mae and Louise are so clever and creative in their rewrite.
Here's mother and daughter and a completely new set of lyrics to Baby, It's Cold Outside that are way funnier than the cringe-worthy original...
From Louise:
It was a big project, not as easy as it looks. When the idea arose, we had so much fun imagining it. Then to find the right moment (and stamina!) to actually do it was another matter. Lots of re-takes, but more laughter! Mae is amazing. She directed the whole thing and put it together.
Jim Hall. Jane Hall, wife of the late guitarist Jim Hall (both above), sent along a lovely holiday card. Here's Jim playing O Tannenbaum...
Petula Clark. I'm still in awe of the large number of emails that arrived after my post last week on British pop sensation Petula Clark.
Here's one from Bill Pauluh:
Marc, in the summer of 1966, I heard the following commercial all over the radio dial. It even won a Clio award. I know because I have the LP compilation of the Clio winners for 1966. Since I haven’t located it yet, this YouTube clip should suffice. Here's Petula Clark singing for Coke...
And here's one from Doug...
Marc, thank you for the marvelous write-up and clips on Petula Clark. I'm a tad older than you (I was 12 in December 1964). But I share the memory of waiting for CKLW (Ontario) and WOWO (Indiana) to play "Downtown." Like you, I absolutely loved that song. However, I really fell in love with Clark's singing when I saw and heard her in the film "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" (1969). She was perfect for that role. I completely wore out two copies of the soundtrack, and consider myself quite lucky to have found the three-CD set that was released in the mid 2000s.
In addition to all the songs I was already familiar with, there were additional songs not included in the film. I find "Tomorrow With Me" to be especially brilliant. Go here...
Book reco. My friend George sent along a link to a book from eight years ago he thought I'd be interested in. It was new to me. So I thought I'd share the reco with you. It's photographer Robert Landau's Rock ’n’ Roll Billboards of the Sunset Strip (Angel City Press). Growing up, Landau took his camera to the Strip and photographed all of the outsized billboards promoting new rock albums. Not until decades later did he re-discover his Kodachrome slides, which collectively is the only known extensive collection of photographs that document the outrageous ads. A different time, a different place, when an album was larger than life and a billboard on the Strip announced its arrival in a high-volume way. For the book, go here.
Thelonious Monk. Todd Selbert urged me to give a fresh listen to Thelonious Monk in Paris in 1964. So I did. Now I'm urging you to do the same. Go here...
Denise Perrier died on December 8. The San Francisco jazz singer was 82. When Denise learned she had just a few months to live, she decided to record an album, enlisting saxophonist Howard Wiley to produce. She gathered some of the city’s best musicians: Tammy Hall, George Cables, and Glen Pearson (p), Ron Belcher and Marcus Shelby (b), Darrell Green (d), Howard Wallace (sax) and Abby Harp (harp). [Photo above of Denise Perrier in 2017 by Angela Lilley Bennett, courtesy of Denise Perrier]
They recorded enough tracks for an album, selecting iconic songs such as Body and Soul and 'Round Midnight. Now funding is needed to complete the project, report executive producers Catherine Cusic and Christine Harris. They're closing in on their target of $20,000. To help support Denise’s CD, visit the project's GoFundMe page here.
To hearPerrier sing April in Paris with strings, go here...
And finally, let's go back to 2018 and visit the intimate Parlor on Manhattan's East 85th Street to hear JaRon Eames sing a collection of Christmas songs, with Ms. Emme Kemp accompanying him on piano. Go here...
In my new Rock Concert book, I interviewed Marshal Chess, son of Leonard Chess, who co-founded the fabled Chess label with his brother Phil. As readers of my book know, Marshal goes into great detail on the label's founding and how Chess artists such as Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley came to invent rock 'n' roll in 1955. [Photo above, from left, Phil and Leonard Chess in 1968, courtesy of Getty]
Here's a BBC documentary on Chess Records and the vital role it played in the early R&B and rock 'n' roll revolution...
Forget about the Beatles. The first British Invader who rocked my world was Petula Clark. In December 1964, when I was 8, I couldn't get enough of Downtown. I waited and waited and waited for the song by the cheery-voiced singer to air again and again on New York's WABC and WINS. There was something very "older sister" about that voice, a wise soul who hadn't given up her girlish mischief and delight. And she was indeed older. Most people are still unaware that Petula was 32 when she recorded Downtown.
For me, Petula was the sound of English marmalade, purring London taxi engines and the bold red of double-decker buses and Coldstream guard uniforms. As you can imagine, interviewing her was a joy for me back in 2018 (go here). At the post-interview photo shoot, she insisted I come over so that photographer Brad Trend could take a few of us together. The photo is amazing and among my most treasured. Beatles, Shmeatles.
Recently, I noticed that a batch of new Petula Clark videos went up at YouTube. Today is as good a day as any to share them with you.
Here'sSign of the Times in 1966, taken at a tempo twice too fast. Dig how Petula remains unfazed by the drummer's too-fast kickoff and easily gets in the groove...
And here'sWho Am I and Don't Sleep in the Subway in 1967...
Bonus:Here's Petula's recording of I Couldn't Live Without Your Love in a U.K. British Airways Christmas ad in 2017. See if you can spot Petula in a cameo...
If you combined records by Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell and Duke Ellington and played the result backward, you'd wind up with Herbie Nichols. Just kidding, but the flavors of all three pianists permeate the essence of Nichols's original music. In truth, Nichols's sound was distinct and robust, and a terrific adventure. [Photo above of Herbie Nichols by Francis Wolff (c)Mosaic Images]
Here's the full Prophetic Herbie Nichols Vol. 1. Listen to as much or as little as you wish...
Now that you're acclimated, here's a radio interview with Nichols by Mait Eady in 1962, posted by Jason Moran and sent to me by Bill Pauluh last week...
Marc Myers writes regularly for The Wall Street Journal and is author of "Anatomy of 55 More Songs," "Anatomy of a Song," "Rock Concert: An Oral History" and "Why Jazz Happened." Founded in 2007, JazzWax has won three Jazz Journalists Association awards.