Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!
Connie plays 4 musical instruments and her daughter is a graduate of Belmont University in Nashville with a degree in Music Business and once worked for Taylor Swift. She may comment on concerts or reminisce on concerts of old.
I admit that, going into tonight’s concert, I really only knew well Bryan Adam’s song “Summer of ’69,” although, as I promised my husband, “We’ll know a lot of other songs. Actually, the 59-year-old singer has had 3 Oscar nominations and 5 Golden Globe nominations for songs of his that have been used in films, and the musical “Pretty Woman,” featuring his songs, is playing on Broadway now.
Bryan Adams and “the boys” at the Taxslayer Center in Moline, IL, on Aug. 15, 2019.
Projected behind the stage during the Bryan Adams 8/15/19 concert.
Shot from behind the stage, looking out at the audience on 8/15/2019, at Bryan Adams concert.
Bryan Adams, alone, playing harmonica and guitar, near the end of his set on 8/15/2019 in Moline, Illinois.
Bryan Adams urging audience members to dance up a storm during the band’s set on 8/15/2019 at the Taxslayer Center in Moline, Illinois.
The concert was an incredible bargain. Tickets that had been priced at $65 apiece came down in price to “two for $65” and our seats were excellent lower bowl seats. The upper area was shut down, and it’s a shame that the man who played to 70,000 people at Wembley Stadium on July 27, 1996 had a somewhat sparse crowd at this truly great concert.
It opened with several up-tempo numbers. I admit that I didn’t know all of them, but, as the evening went on, I recognized many more, including “Cuts Like A Knife,” “Straight from the Heart,” “Run to You,” “Everything I Do, I Do It for You,” and many, many more.
In some nice moments with the audience, he revealed that he quit school at 15 to become a songwriter and that the $1,000 his Canadian parents had saved to send him to college was, instead, used to purchase a piano. He claimed to not have mastered the piano, but he is an accomplished singer, songwriter, record producer, guitarist, photographer, philanthropist and activist.
Adams was in Moline this night because he is on a world tour associated with his 14th album, “Shine A Light.” The album was released on March 1, 2019 and he will tour this year.
Adams and his partner have two daughters, aged 6 and 8, and he has homes in both Paris and London.
The Rolling Stones on June 21st, 2019 at Soldier Field.
The Rolling Stones played for the 8th time at Soldier Field on Friday night, June 21st, beginning at 7:30 p.m. with the lead-in act, St. Paul and the Broken Bones from Alabama.
Before arriving at the venue, we were told not to bring large purses. Specific dimensions were sent and a suggestion was made that we use quart-sized plastic bags. All metal objects had to be placed in trays as we went through metal detectors up front. I was able to get my plastic bag contents down to cash, one credit card, my cell phone, my small camera,
We were waaay up in the stadium and these were taken with a Canon PowerShot with a 40 zoom.
and opera glasses (that turned out to be useless). Tickets in the nosebleed section were $69.50 and we climbed a long time. (I told my husband, “I’ll just keep climbing until I pass out.”)
The booths selling shirts and the like ($45 for a regular tee shirt; $85 for a hooded sweatshirt) were set up in a particularly problematic way. You could barely walk through to get to your section because of the presence of several tables selling merchandise.
Finally, we climbed to the 18th row in the highest section. The night was cool and rain threatened, but the four things that amazed me most about the concert this night were as follows: (1) Mick Jagger definitely is in amazing shape for someone his age (75, born July 26, 1943) (2) Jagger is back from the heart surgery that had originally postponed this concert date, but was re-programmed for the original date shortly after he had stents placed in his heart (3) my new small camera (Canon Powershot) with a 40 zoom did a pretty fair job of getting pictures from this far away and (4) how far other concert-
Charlie Watts and Ronnie Wood.
goers had come to hear the Rolling Stones. We heard Germany, England, New York, Cleveland, Minneapolis and St. Louis and everyone around us was from out-of-town. In fact, following the concert, we had to provide directions to a gentleman who was to meet his friends at Scout bar on Wabash and Michigan and had little idea how to get back there.
Mick shared that the Stones had played Soldier Field 8 times and Chicago 38 times over the years since 1964. Only 2 of the songs were from later than 1981. Which, as the Chicago Tribune noted, is exactly what the vast majority of fans paid to see.
Other musicians assisting the band included keyboardist Charlie Leavell and Chicago born bassist Darryl Jones ably backing the Stones (Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Charlie Watts and Ronnie Wood).
The Rolling Stones, June 21, 2019.
Since 1998, the stones have produced only 2 studio albums, yet they play their hits differently each night. I can vouch for this, having seen them for the first time in 1982 in Cedar Falls, Iowa, at Northern Iowa University and, after that, during the Steel Wheels tour, the Bridges to Babylon tour (2x), the VooDoo Lounge tour, the Tattoo You tour, twice inside the United Center (one of them the No Security tour) and at the Indianapolis Speedway in 2015, as well as tonight’s No Filter tour. Mick had never danced more and I had never seen Charlie Watts AND Keith Richards smile more onstage.
To me, tracking the band in person for 37 years, Keith Richards looked the most changed. Something about the expanse of forehead looked very different. The joke about Keith is that he has looked like he is at death’s door for at least 40 years. He really did look different to me, tonight, and his comment when he spoke was, “I’m happy to be anywhere.”
Keith (Richards) and Mick Jagger onstage.
The Stones have weathered sixties drug busts, seventies heroin addictions, the Jagger/Richards split during the eighties, Keith’s brain surgery after he fell out of a tree in 2006 and, now, Mick’s heart surgery (stents) in March. They sound as good as ever, and Mick danced more, if possible, than I’ve ever seen him, in a “Look! I’m still standing!” move. It was a great show! Even the weather cooperated. The downside was that it took us a full hour to walk across the street from the stadium.
Sir Paul McCartney onstage at the Taxslayer Center in Moline (IL) on Tuesday, June 11, 2019.
My first “live” Paul McCartney concert experience was in 1965 at the San Francisco Cow Palace when he played and sang with a little group called the Beatles. My boyfriend of the time and I had cut class at Berkeley and drove up on his purple Czechoslovokian motorcyle. We had no tickets. We got there and were able to purchase 2 seats on the end of the 7th row on the floor for $7 apiece. That concert was a classic and deserves its own column, so, moving on.
My second “live” Paul McCartney concert experience was when he was singing with “Wings” and played in Ames at the HiltonColisseum. By the luck of the draw, my name was drawn first for tickets in the state of Iowa in a drawing that took place outside the Younkers entrance at Duck Creek Mall. Paula Sands (KWQC anchor) came over to me and asked me to purchase 4 tickets (there was an 8-ticket limit) and sell 4 to she and husband, David Sands,which I did. It was a great concert and we were very close to the front.
My third “live” Paul McCartney concert experience was at Wrigley Field a few years ago with my daughter. We were in the upper bowl, but the seats were tiered and were good. I knew every song he played and the fireworks at the end were great. The concert was well worth the money. Interestingly enough, all of the anecdotal stuff he mentioned in concert in Moline he had (also) mentioned in Chicago. He also had exactly the same band with him on Tuesday as he had at Wrigley Field.
Pictures of the Beatles and of Paul in younger days were projected in the background throughout the concert.
My most recent “live” Paul McCartney experience was at the TaxSlayer Center (previously the Mark of the Quad Cities) ,on Tuesday night. I’ve seen so many glowing accounts of the concert—most of which I agree with—that I thought I’d throw in “another country heard from.” I sat down when I reached home and wrote this account of Tuesday night’s concert—where I knew 75% of the songs, as opposed to 100% at the others—to my son and daughter, to let them know how the concert went. So far, no comment from them. [Perhaps they, too, have had to put up with a Bobblehead who just won’t quit and semi-ruins their concert experience.]
I got in on a pre-sale for concert tickets, so our tickets in Section 213, row 11, seats 3 and 4, cost us $213 apiece. While this is not “cheap,” our upper tier seats were definitely not the ones that people were paying thousands of dollars to secure. We climbed 45 stairs to reach the 11th row in the upper bowl. As luck would have it, the 2 seats next to us remained empty and we moved over into seats 2 and 3, leaving a seat on each end (1 and 4), which made us feel less like sardines.
Getting into the venue was not that difficult. We were “wanded” and purses were checked, but it did not take that long and it was not that onerous.
The first sign of trouble came with the realization that a First Class Bobblehead was going to sit directly in front of me for the entire concert. A bobblehead, as you all probably know, is someone who never sits down, screams loudly all the time, is constantly waving fists and arms in the air, and generally seems to have not received enough attention from his or her parental unit as an infant. The one in front of me resembled a small creature that might live on the back of a rhinoceros, to make an animal allusion, because of the size differential between him and the man on the end of the aisle. I say this because the gentleman on the end of the row in front of us (Row 10) was really, really large. He had a very hard time making it up to his seat. I say this with empathy, as I have a bad left knee and am no Birdwoman, myself. He was a red-head and fair and overweight and the SHAKING of his entire body was really concerning, to me. I am not joking about this; he was in distress.
This was my view of the Paul McCartney Concert on June 11th , for 3 hours.
I was very concerned that the man on the end of Row 10 was going to have a heart attack, as he was beet red, sweating profusely and shaking. He immediately began blotting his face with a napkin and guzzling water from a bottle someone in the row below handed up to him, but he was really distressed. I honestly thought we might need to administer CPR. I looked around for someone to assist us, who might be in an official capacity, but there was no one
The Bobblehead, wearing glasses and his baseball cap backwards seemed over-caffeinated, went into high gear immediately and never once let up. He seldom sat down and emitted ear-shattering hoots and hollers throughout, singing along loudly to the point that it was hard to hear Sir Paul. My husband cautioned, “Just ignore him” and, as God is my witness, I did. That is why most of my pictures have his arm or hand in them. He did leave once, giving me a clear view for about 10 minutes.
Mid-concert a blonde girl, clutching a beer bottle, came to our row and leaned over and began hugging and kissing Mr. Bobblehead. To do this, she occupied the empty aisle seat, which she soon announced, very belligerently, she intended to sit in for the entire concert. I asked her, “Don’t you have a seat and a ticket for that seat somewhere?”
She admitted that she had a seat “way over there,” (throwing her arms around in a random fashion.) As politely as I could, I suggested that, if she had a ticket for a seat, she should probably occupy her own seat. She didn’t seem to like that logic, but it was pretty obvious that if she were to move into the row we were in, my husband and I would be subjected to even more extreme aggravation that would be IN OUR ROW. We already were having difficulty seeing over Mr. Bobblehead’s appendages, at times, and hearing the concert, at times (Mr. Bobblehead liked to sing along, loudly). With this blonde person in our row it would be a double whammy. She was not very smart about how she threw out this idea, declaring it as a “fait accomplis” without any attempt at asking nicely or explaining why allowing her to shove her way into our row would be a “good” thing for all of us. She did not ask if she would be an acceptable addition to our row or if we would mind. She simply loudly announced that she was going to move into our row and our seats, while sloppily guzzling something from a pink can. She was also very loud.
The blonde clutching the beer bottle left—for a while—but, of course, decided to come back later and pretty much ruin the concert during the Grand Finale number (“Live and Let Die”), which was song number 32 (of 36). At that point, she was truly drunk. When I objected to her inserting herself into a row she did not belong in and SCREAMING as loudly as possible in my left ear, she called me every name in the book, gave me the finger, and then hit me. On the nose. I suggested that she might want to “Go away” or I’d have to find a cop who might escort her somewhere, and that I would press charges if I had to miss the rest of the concert to find an officer of the law.
The original photo had Paul nestling his new-born child within his sheepskin jacket. I wonder if the child was Stella McCartney? Did Annie Leibowitz take the photo? A wonderful picture.
This was RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF the biggest number of the night (“Live and Let Die”) when various flash pots were detonating down below. I missed most of it because a drunk blonde person assaulted and insulted me. Her friend (Mr. Bobblehead) now climbed over the BACK of hisseat to get into our row. This put him in between Blonde Drunk Girl and me. If you’re keeping score, there are 2 seats there, and now we have 3 people occupying them. I’m thinking, “This can’t be good!”, but I’m also glad that there is someone between the young girl who had just assaulted me and her.
I believe I said, more than once, “Keep her away from me.” Since she had already hit me once, I didn’t think a repeat performance would be any more enjoyable. Since I was trying to film the Grand Finale number, I may even have some film footage of this intrusion into our personal space. It’s pretty erratic, but if I can find it, I will post it later.
It was pretty clear that there were not going to be any security officers rushing to my aid. My husband was sitting closer to the stage (seat 4), looking to his right, and was engrossed in the pyrotechnics going off down below, so he did not notice all of this until it was almost over. When he did, he asked the duo to calm down (both were drunk) and stop.
Mr. Bobblehead, perhaps realizing that his drunk friend (wife? girlfriend?) had gone too far, did take her “away from me” shortly after she assaulted and insulted me. I was able to enjoy songs #32 through #37 in peace. Too bad that the first 31 were ruined by this pair. Good thing that my nose is Irish and small and pug-nosed, as a Grecian honker might have been broken by the blow.
So, when I’m asked (by my husband), “Which concert did you enjoy the most?” I can’t say it was the one where 2 young rude people did their best to ruin it for me (and all those around me). I also enjoyed the Wrigley recent concert more because he played nearly all songs that the audience knew well. I’d have to rate them in order chronologically and say that this was the fourth concert and #4, through no fault of Sir Paul’s.
There were three factors for my rating, beyond the inexcusable rude behavior of two young drunk concert-goers:
1) Paul played more recognizable songs at the other 3 concerts
(2) My tickets at the Cow Palace for the Beatles and at the Hilton Colisseum for Wings were better (Wrigley was a draw) and cheaper.
(3) Nobody wants to have to put up with rude behavior from two strangers that they in no way have instigated. And I DID pay $426 for these tickets, so…. (In the age of Trump, don’t expect courtesy may be the name of that tune).
A few days ago (May 13th), Doris Day shuffled off this mortal coil at the ripe old age of 97. I remember her well from movies like “Pillow Talk,” with Rock Hudson (one of herbest) and—when I was a young college girl, working as a waitress at Armstrong’s Department Store Cafe in downtown Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and at the Cherry Blossom Dining Room in Marion (Iowa)—if I had a dollar for every customer who said to me, “You look like Doris Day!”, I wouldn’t have been rich, but I probably would have made more money than I did working as a waitress that summer.
And if I’d had Doris’ job, I wouldn’t have had such sore feet from waitressing. It was a brutal job for minimum wage (a U-shaped breakfast island with a straight part to the left that people could also sit at; you’d wait on the interior part of the “U” and, behind you, people would be seated at the straight bar part that you were not at all aware had come in). All-in-all, both were demanding jobs for paltry salaries. [It was especially brutal the night the Cherry Blossom Dining Room booked a high school reunion (small class) and failed to notify me (the hostess) in advance that several tables of reunion-goers would be sweeping in, en masse, at the peak of the dinner hour). It’s never fun to have to go around and ask 4 to 5 tables of 8 if they’d mind relocating across the room. (!)] However, while fantasizing over Doris’ money made, I have to realize that she was thoroughly fleeced by her “business advisor” (Jerome Rosenthal) who managed her since the forties and by her third husband. It took her until 1979 to recover some of the millions he took in a colossal case of malpractice, which the courts recognized as such, although it took 5 years for Doris to get any of her money back.
Doris remained beautiful for many, many years—well into her sixties—and outlived her record producer son, Terry Melcher (who was probably the real target of Charles Manson’s murders, as it wasTerry Melcher‘s Hollywood Hills home that Manson sent his acolytes to, where they brutally murdered Sharon Tate and others.) She more-or-less faded into oblivion because the times changed. During 1960 and the 1962 to 1964 period, she ranked number one at the box office, the second woman to be number one four times. She set a record that has yet to be equaled, receiving seven consecutive Laurel Awards as the top female box office star.According to the Hollywood Reporter in 2015, the Academy offered her the Honorary Oscar multiple times, but she declined as she saw the film industry as a part of her past life. Day received a Grammy for Lifetime Achievement in Music in 2008, albeit again in absentia.
One of the roles Doris Day turned down was Mrs. Robinson in “The Graduate” (she found it “vulgar” and “offensive”). Anne Bancroft cashed in. Although scheduled to sing at one of the Oscar ceremonies, while strolling the hotel grounds she received a bad cut on her leg from a sprinkler system that required stitches; she had to cancel. She also was in talks with Clint Eastwood, her Carmel (California) neighbor to star in a Clint Eastwood project, but that never panned out.
She received three Grammy Hall of Fame Awards, in 1998, 1999 and 2012, for her recordings of “Sentimental Journey”, “Secret Love”, and “Que Sera, Sera”, respectively. Day was inducted into the Hit Parade Hall of Fame in 2007, and in 2010 received the first Legend Award ever presented by the Society of Singers.
Doris’ personal life was not so successful. Doris Mary Koppelhoff of Cincinnati, Ohio married three times and basically dumped little Terry (her only child) in Ohio with her mother (also a divorcee) to continue touring as a vocalist with Les Brown (and his Band of Renown). Between 1949 and 1959, she recorded First husband Al Jorden was supposed to have been physically abusive, with a violent temper; she intended to divorce him before even while pregnant with her only child. Second husband was saxophonist, George Weidler. Third husband Martin Melcher adopted Terry and gave him his surname, but Melcher was abusive to both mother and son and managed to embezzle $20 million dollars of Doris’ money. Doris’ last husband (1976-1982) was Barry Comden, a maitre de, who later complained that she liked her canine friends more than him. Doris did NOT want to do “The Doris Day Show” (1968-1973) but found out after Melcher’s death that he had signed her to do one.
Day learned to her displeasure that Melcher had committed her to a television series, which became The Doris Day Show:.
It was awful. I was really, really not very well when Marty [Melcher] passed away, and the thought of going into TV was overpowering. But he’d signed me up for a series. And then my son Terry [Melcher] took me walking in Beverly Hills and explained that it wasn’t nearly the end of it. I had also been signed up for a bunch of TV specials, all without anyone ever asking me.
— Doris Day, OK! magazine, 1996[
Nobody has told me “You look like Doris Day” in quite some time, which may be because Doris remained slim, trim and out-of-sight as much as possible after 1968. When “All in the Family” was popular (I mention it because of the recent “live” recreation of that Norman Lear hit, produced by Jimmy Kimmel) there was the occasional mention of “Gloria” on “All in the Family,” but I always thought it was the long blonde hair and the lack of height. Gloria (Sally Struthers) has not retained her youthful appearance, post television, like Doris Day did but, thankfully, I’ve not heard the Sally Struthers comparison since the seventies.
I just thought I’d send out a prayer for Doris’ happiness in heaven. It didn’t seem as though all her stardom and fame translated to a gloriously happy personal life, for her. A contentious divorce (her son’s) kept her from ever becoming close to her only grandson, who regrets the manipulation and maneuvering that kept him from ever knowing his grandmother. By contrast, I (we) just got a call from the grounds outside the Eiffel Tower in France from my married son and wonderful daughter-in-law, with the 10-year-old twins (Ava & Elise) posing in pictures that made it seem like they were balancing each other AND the Eiffel Tower on their palms.
Day died on May 13, 2019, at the age of 97, after having contracted pneumonia. One day after she turned 97, she told an interviewer her All Time Favorite Film role was “Calamity Jane.”Her death was announced by her charity, the Doris Day Animal Foundation. Per Day’s requests, the Foundation announced that there would be no funeral services, gravesites, or other public memorials.
Doris supposedly thought she was only 95, as her birth certificate confirming she was really 97, was only ferreted out a few years ago.
Au revoir, Doris. May you live on in happy memories. “Que sera, sera.”
Earlier in the festivities I did a review of a wonderful new documentary called “The Bluebird,” which is a visit to the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville, Tennessee, which is (apparently) the subject of a television show starring Connie Britton. (I’ve never watched it).
I attended the Bluebird documentary, however, taking many pictures of the director and others on the stage of the Paramount in Austin, Texas, at SXSW on Thursday, March 14th at 6:30 p.m. (It showed again at the Lamar at 11:00 p.m. on Friday,March 15th).
Later on, I received a phone text message informing me that the daughter might be singing back-up for one of her singer/songwriter friends who was going to be appearing onstage at the Bluebird Cafe on their Monday songwriters’ night (featured heavily in the documentary). Lest you think this is unimportant, it launched the careers of both Garth Brooks and Taylor Swift and, although the daughter wasn’t certain she would have a role, I look forward to her ringside seat report of her friend’s performance.
“Bluebird Cafe” in Nashville, Tennessee. (Stacey Wilson).
Interior of the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. (Connie Wilson).
I asked the daughter, who went to school in Nashville and lives there now, to send me a picture of the exterior, but when I went to press, somehow that picture (and a few others she sent) had disappeared, not to be found.
I’m still trying to figure out how to get a small bit of film sent me by the son of Low Cut Connie performing at Lucy’s Fried Chicken in Nashville on Saturday, March 16h, to post on my blog. The file sent me came through as IMG-5643.MOV (5.2 MB) but how does one get THAT to post? In place of it, I shall post the link of Adam Weiner (who is “Low Cut Connie”) appearing on Seth Meyer’s late night show and the 2 pictures of the Bluebird that I now have located.
I am posting the Low Cut Connie link because he and his band will be performing at The Rust Belt in East Moline (IL) on April 18th. I’ve been told that the Rust Belt is somewhere on 7th Street, but look it up and check it out. (I’ll be in Mexico). I’m hoping that www.QuadCities.com will run a notification when it is closer.
I missed Low Cut Connie when he hit the Raccoon Motel in Davenport, but Craig wanted to be present here in Austin for his birthday celebration with son Scott and daughter Stacey at Lucy’s Fried Chicken. They got to hang with the band afterwards, as one of the guitarists was someone known to the Nashville daughter.
The van at Camp Sandy.
I was covering “Pet Semetary” with stars Jason Clarke, et. al., (that piecehas also run previously), so I missed the hilarity (and the chicken) and the music, but I’m doing my best to drum up a record crowd for you, Low Cut Connie (i.e, Adam Weiner) if only because my name IS Connie. The picture to the left represents the van that Low Cut Connie was supposed to play in at Camp Sandy. INSIDE the van. You sit outside and watch the performances on the screens you see mounted on the exterior of the van.
I’m not thinking this would be optimal for an act that is Jerry Lee Lewis Redux times 100. However, I did drive out to catch him there (since I couldn’t be presentat Lucy’s Fried Chicken on Saturday, March 16th). There were problems at Camp Sandy, but the Turtle Wax people have reached out and are sending me vats of Turtle Wax to East Moline. Thanks, Eden Zaslow of Zenogroup! That was not necessary.
Low Cut Connie WAS present on the 16th and, if I can figure out how to post the 5.2MB piece of film sent me by my son, you will be able to see it here some time in the future.
I thought readers might enjoy seeing some photos from one of the promotional things that went on during SXSW in Austin, Texas.
This particular promotion was sent to me as Press and involved the sponsors (a local whiskey and Turtle Wax) being willing to send an Uber to pick me up in Austin and ferry me out to Camp Sandy, which, I can personally attest, is way-the-hell-and-gone out in the middle of Hill Country, but has a spectacular view.
Downtown Austin (TX) mural.
A couple of the other shots were simply things that caught my eye as I was walking (for miles) around downtown Austin (it is, by actual mileage count, nearly 2 miles from the Conference Center to the Paramount theater).
But back to Camp Sandy. I RSVP-ed that I would come to hear “the band in the van.” The concept here is that the band is INSIDE a van and the listeners watch the band on screens mounted on the outside of the van. (Weird). Low Cut Connie was supposed to play, complete with a piano (“the first time a full-sized piano has been inside the van!” said the e-mail).
Note the small tan Prius on the right of this picture (mine) at Camp Sandy.
If you had a car, they would Turtle Wax your car for free, although this turned out to be incorrect.
I RSVP-ed and asked for specific parking and navigational directions and got nothing, but I had the address, so I set off in my trusty Prius (one of 5 in the family since 2002) and found this out-of-the-way place, high up in hill country with a spectacular view. I parked alongside the driveway in, which turned out to not be that smart a move, as someone driving a humongous tank-like vehicle pulled in and left their vehicle smack dab in the middle of the ONLY way in or out. (It took about 15 minutes to find out who had left the painted van blocking the only exit or entrance.) I only had one hour before I had to be standing on a Red Carpet somewhere, but Camp Sandy sounded interesting, if weird. And, of course, there was the matter of that promised free Turtle Wax.
Except that, when I showed up, it sounded like several cars were ahead of me in a “scheduled” fashion and, therefore, there would be no Turtle Wax for the Silver Fish (as I call my Texas Prius). That was okay, but when I learned that Low Cut Connie had also bailed, I did a quick tour of the premises and left. That turned out to be quite difficult with the blocking van and, after the van moved, I could get no signal on my GPS and would have been totally lost. The organizer who greeted me said, “If you drive to the top of the hill, you’ll probably be able to get a signal.” (Yikes! Let’s hope so!)
Still, here are some “local color” shots of the venue and of downtown Austin, Texas, during SXSW.
Interior, Camp Sandy.
View from Camp Sandy.
Sponsor of Camp Sandy.
Patrons viewing “the van” at Camp Sandy.
Typical crowd around the block waiting for admission.
“The Boy Band Con: The Lou Pearlman Story”: in the good old days. (Photo used by permission of YouTube, Pilgrim Productions & Lance Bass Productions)
The Boy Ban Con: The Lou Pearlman Story is a You Tube Original documentary, presented by Pilgrim Media in conjunction with Lance Bass Productions. It premieres at SXSW on Wednesday, March 13th, 2019 at 3 p.m. at the Paramount Theater.
Lance Bass is onscreen discussing Pearlman’s defrauding of the boy bands he formed, as is Bass’ mother and Justin Timberlake’s mother and several members of the boy bands N’Sync and The Back Street Boys, including A.J. McLean, Ashley Parker Angel, Chris Kirkpatrick, J.C. Chasez, Johnny Wright, Lynn Harless (Timberlake’s Mom), Aaron Carter, Nikki DeLoach and Diane Bass (Lance Bass’ Mom). Justin Timberlake does not appear in the film, except in old footage. Director Aaron Kunkel paints a picture of a very bright, but very dishonest man.
Pearlman used falsifiedFederal Deposit Insurance Corporation, AIG and Lloyd’s of London documents to win investors’ confidence in his “Employee Investment Savings Account” program. He used fake financial statements created by the fictitious accounting firm Cohen and Siegel to secure bank loans for his Airship Enterprises, Ltd. (Essentially, an airline without any planes). Trans Continental Records followed. The Backstreet Boys became the best-selling boy band of all time, with record sales of 130 million, hitting gold, platinum, and diamond in 45 different countries. Pearlman then repeated this formula almost exactly with the band *NSYNC, which sold over 70 million records globally.
Lou Pearlman is presented as a consummate ponzi scheme artist, with little emphasis in this documentary on the pedophile claims that came to light later, revealed in a Vanity Fair article, “Mad About the Boys” by Bryan Burrough (August 21, 2016.)
Pearlman died in prison 3 days before the article appeared, but he had denied such accusations of sexual impropriety in a 2014 Hollywood Reporter interview from prison. Pearlman’s death was caused by surgery to replace a heart valve, which he had undergone a week before his death. He developed an infection of the lining of the heart valve.
Defrauding people of over half a billion dollars through various schemes is what sent Pearlman to jail for 25 years, where he died at 62 on August 19, 2016. His tentative release date from prison would have been 2029.
The judge offered Pearlman one month off each year of his 25-year sentence for every million dollars recovered, but only $38 million dollars was ever recovered, most of it from the sale of Church Street Station, a historic train station in the heart of Orlando which Pearlman had purchased in 2002. That sale, alone, recouped $34 million.
Here, with Lance Bass shepherding this 99 minute project as Executive Producer and one of the principal talking heads exploring the Lou Pearlman phenomenon, the documentary is focused almost exclusively on how an overweight, relatively friendless man started two boy bands between 1993 and 2006. Other less successful bands followed. (Pearlman even asked the Judge, after his sentencing, to allow him Internet access from prison so that he could continue to manage. The judge declined).
After viewing “Finding Neverland” the idea of a rich, powerful and/or famous man in a position to advance the career(s) of young talent(s), causing naïve and gullible young people to be victimized, is not difficult to believe. It has occurred many, many times. Hollywood coined the term “the casting couch” for the promises made to innocent young actresses.
Lou Pearlman had been custom-fitting airplanes for famous bands to travel and became aware of the tremendous amounts of money these artists were making. He immediately set his sights on forming such a band and becoming a promoter.
The way in which he got the seed money to be able to underwrite expenses for the venture is pure Lou Pearlman: he defrauded an insurance company of $3 million by insuring a blimp he bought for $10,000. Pearlman painted the blimp gold to be used as advertising for Jordache. McDonald’s was another signed advertiser.
When the blimp crashed, Lou had his seed money; he used it to audition a $3 million-dollar talent search and form the boy bands that were then supplanting the Seattle grunge scene as those bands (think Kurt Cobain in “Nirvana”) fell victim to their own successes.
The members of the Back Street Boys and NSync fell victim to Lou Pearlman presenting himself as a paternal father figure, but also insisting that he was “the sixth member of the band”( much like Billy Preston was once dubbed “the FifthBeatle.”) In Lou’s case, this meant a monetary cut equivalent to the young men who were practicing their dance moves 16 hours a day, but also cuts as the producer, marketer, etc. Lou Pearlman was triple-dipping. Pearlman presented the boys with a lavish party house for them to “bond” in and paid for the recording studios and, also, for lavish meals in eateries like Lawries.
The climax of the film seems to come when all of the boys are invited to such a dinner and told to bring their parents. It is far into the group’s success; they are pulling down millions. An envelope appears on each boy’s plate. They can only dream of the riches they now will receive for their hard work, since the per diem allowance to date has only been $35 a day, plus their comped food and living expenses.
When the checks were for only $10,000, Lance Bass says he went home and tore his up.
Lawsuits ensued, with the boy bands finding out that the contract(s) they had signed were very very good for Lou Pearlman but very very bad for them.
Then Lou went a step further and ultimately defrauded investors in Trans Continental Airways of half a billion dollars, of which only $38 million was ever recovered. Over two hundred investors lost all of their money. Some are interviewed in the film. Most are elderly couples who could not afford to lose their only inheritance.
Lou’s sole childhood friend, Alan Gross, had been a model plane assembler as a hobby. Pearlman took one such plane, painted a logo on the side of the model, and held it up with his hand against a backdrop of mountains to make it appear that he had an airline, Trans Continental. He didn’t.
Ultimately, Lou Pearlman died in disgrace at age 62 on August 19, 2016.
Jimmy Sakurai, a Japanese guitarist and devoted fan of Jimmy Page of “Led Zeppelin,” has spent 35 years of his life emulating Jimmy Page as Mr. Jimmy. He might be called Jimmy Page’s Number One fan.
A close second (Number Two fan?) might be the Director of the 110 minute documentary “Mr. Jimmy,” Peter Michael Dowd. Director Dowd and I spoke on March 4th, nine days before SXSW in Austin, where the film will screen on opening night (March 8th).
For 35 years, Akio “Mr. Jimmy” Sakurai has dedicated his life to honoring the music of Jimmy Page. He honed his skills playing in Tokyo clubs for more than two decades, before moving to America and performing his faithful Led Zeppelin “revival” concerts across the United States.
Peter Michael Dowd became aware of Mr. Jimmy through YouTube videos and shared with me, “I am just a life-long Led Zeppelin fan, since the age of fifteen.” He shared memories of riding to school when “Whole Lotta’ Love” came on the radio (released Oct. 22, 1969). “I just really appreciated the wonder of Led Zeppelin. Then, I stumbled upon a video of Mr. Jimmy playing and he wore an obscure outfit that I remember from having seen Led Zeppelin at Network Festival on August 4, 1979. It was just the most banal look, but I recognized that it was exactly what Jimmy Page wore at that concert and that got me investigating.”
Dowd—whose mother Paula executive produced the documentary—made four trips to Japan to do the film. He had never been to Japan before stumbling upon Mr. Jimmy, via YouTube. “I found it so fascinating in Japan,” he said. “If you walk into a 7/11 in Tokyo, it’s run with military precision.” We agreed that the Japanese dedication to precision was a key factor in Mr. Jimmy’s fanatical obsession with Jimmy Page and Led Zeppelin. As Dowd put it, “It’s a pure, beautiful expression of love.” He added, “In Japan it’s all about the details. That’s how the Japanese will beat the British and the United States.”
The climax of the documentary is when Mr. Jimmy is playing in Tokyo and the real Jimmy Page comes to his show, which Dowd captured on film. Mr. Jimmy (Sakurai) played for 2 hours that night and said, “The fact that he saw me play. I never thought that day would come. Sometimes I think, ‘Wow! That really happened. It moves me deeply inside.’”
Jimmy Page had heard that Jimmy Sakurai was going to be joining the tribute band “Led Zepagain” and more-or-less gave him a thumbs up that night. The Japanese version of the virtuoso guitarist also had the opportunity to ask the genuine article if it was “okay” to call himself Mr. Jimmy and play exactly like his idol. Dowd and I agreed that it was typical of the Japanese way of life and respect. As another of Jimmy’s friends says in the film, “We understand Jimmy’s obsession. It’s very Japanese. It’s a rebirth of the original. It’s his life’s work.”
After growing up in Tokamahi, Japan and moving to Tokyo, Jimmy Sakurai (Mr. Jimmy) watched his father draw intricate komono designs. In Tokyo, Mr. Jimmy had a day job selling kimonos, and, later, selling musical instruments. Mr. Jimmy’s obsession with “getting it right” is depicted in the documentary and may have led to his eventual break from “Led Zepagain” after 2 years and 250 shows together.
Today Jimmy Sakurai is the guitarist for “Jason Bonham’s Led Zeppelin Evening” but also maintains his own band “Mr. Jimmy,” which recreates specific concerts and eras of Led Zeppelin’s live history in every regard — costumes, lighting, live arrangements, and improvisation. Mr. Jimmy describes his excitement at being asked to join the band fronted by the son of Led Zeppelin original drummer John Bonham. Sakurai also maintains his own band from his Tokyo days.
The Mr. Jimmy band assembles the top Zeppelin tribute masters; the current line-up includes “Jimmy” Sakurai on lead guitar, August Young (of the Aviators) on vocals, Cody Tarbell (Slow Season) on drums, and “John Paul Joel” on bass & keys.
As one of the featured friends in the film says of Mr. Jimmy, “Jimmy Sakurai’s job is to make the audience think they’re watching Jimmy Page. Ultimately, he’s going for something that doesn’t have an answer, because the answer would be to become Jimmy Page himself.”
Documentary director and actor Peter Michael Dowd won the World Shorts competition in Little Rock for his documentary “The King of Size,” which also played at the New Orleans Film Festival. He has appeared as an actor in the film “The Beautiful Life,” 2012, and was previously the curator of film at the Museum of the Moving Image and Film Programmer at the George Eastman House.
“Mr. Jimmy” screens at SXSW on March 8th, 11th and 14th. Jimmy Sakurai will play at the Dirty Dog Bar on March 13th from midnight until ten minutes to 2 a.m.
OK…So, I went to see Amy Schumer’s new movie “I Feel Pretty” (and received a button that says “I Feel PrettyAwesome,” which I wore all day).I liked it—the button AND the movie.
There, I’ve said it. I liked it.
I thought it was insightful and funny and I liked lines like, “I met this baby the other day that was wack as hell.” [You can see the meeting with said baby in the clip I justposted of the movie trailer]. The trailer contains the best parts of the film, and, no, it isn’t a laugh-out-loud funny movie, because Amy is trying to make the point that (to quote a line from the movie): “This line/movie is for every girl who is readyto believe in herself.” Or, “I think a lot of people are all confused about themselves…You doubt yourself over and over. What if we didn’t care about how we looked?”
The premise is that, when Amy hits her head, she suddenly sees herself as perfect. She no longer has the crippling insecurities that beset her prior to being hit in the head. It takes another blow to her skull to turn her back into insecure Amy. One of the lines spoken to her boyfriend in the film (Ethan, well played by Rory Scovel) is: “She is awesome. She is the complete package. Your girl can handle herself in a knife fight!” Or, as Ethan says to Renee, “You know who you are and you don’t care how the world sees you.”
The movie makes a plea for “The strength and wisdom to say ‘I’m better than all that. We are real women.”
Why is she being pilloried on social media for making such undeniably positive statements? The answer seems to be that some think she is too pretty to be saying these things? Is that it? Amy is too pretty to make a statement that benefits all women everywhere? (Sheesh) Get over your bad selves, nit-pickers. And,to the newly-wed Amy:YOU GO, GIRL!
I couldn’t help but empathize with what she must be thinking and feeling as people hurl brick-bats at her for articulating the undeniable truth that most of us are insecure in some way and that it can often become almost a debilitating disease, if it inhibits us too much or prevents us from becoming our true, authentic, best selves. The film also gets the point across that TOO MUCH confidence is, well, too much.
That is probably what the uproar is all about: mid-movie Amy briefly becomes a jerk to her friends (played by Aidy Bryant of SNL as Vivian and Busy Philipps asJane) and we want to LIKE Amy and empathize with her. If she’s confident and thinks she’s great and is enjoying herself, well, we can’t have THAT now, can we? How dare she!?
If you watch the trailer (above), you’ll see the funniest parts of the movie, complete with Amy’s attempt to win a bikini contest (she doesn’t), but, mainly, you’ll see her becoming a jerk as she gives in to her uber confident inner self, confidence which was triggered by a fall from a Soul Cycle bike that dumped her on her head. I’m thinking that her in-your-face confidence was just too much for some females tostomach. Be reassured: she doesn’t STAY a jerk.
Girls always seem to accept other girls, or women other women, only if they are sweet and malleable and supportive and “nice,” as my husband euphemistically terms it. It still isn’t acceptable in society to be sassy and funny and irreverent, if you’re female. You still get labeled as “a bitch” if you display any of those characteristics, even though Amy Schumer rose to fame because of the irreverent salacious humor of her stand-up act (and, yes, I HAVE seen her act, “live”). [It can’t be the men who are complaining and giving the film a thumbs down on YouTube, can it?]
I thought the opening sequence where she is participating in a Soul Cycle class with model-thin women and her bike seat gives away and she experiences a jarring blow to her vagina was note-perfect. She hobbles out with her pants torn and in pain. Have none of you (females) who are giving it a thumbs down on YouTube never experienced the crushing pain of falling onto the metal part of a boy’s bike? No? [Okay, then. It must be just me.]
I’ve also been involved in exercise classes where it was quite obvious I did not belong. My favorite story is the one where, somehow, I ended up LEADING the class and had NO idea where I was to “lead” them. It was a lot like the scene in “Animal House” where the marching band marches into a brick wall. I also remembered my husband once commenting that I was only equipped to compete in the Olympics in the “400 yard roll” or some such joke. (He WAS kidding, but his humor was lost on me at the time.)
I actually wrote several humorous essays about exercise classes I have known and published them in “Laughing through Life,“ so if you want to hear all about the types of things that befall Amy in her class, but happened, IRL, to me, you can order a copy on Amazon.
But that’s not the point.
The point of the movie as written and directed by Abby Kohn (“2009’s “He’s Just Not That In To You”) and Marc Silverstein (husband of *BusyPhilipps,”How To Be Single”) to me, was that Amy wants each and every one of us who is female to feel comfortable in our own skins. So what if we have too much junk in the trunk? Forgetaboutit. So what if we are not rail-thin? Move on. Get over it! Be confident.
BUT, and this is important, do NOT lose good friends because you become an insufferable ego-maniac.
Other good things about the movie:
Michael Andrews selected the music (“This Girl Is On Fire” for one) and it is great. Michelle Williams plays the daughter of a cosmetics icon who has a very soft voice like Jackie Kennedy’s (okay, you’re too young to remember how Jackie’s voice was very soft and not forceful at all, and Marilyn Monroe’s was the same way, sojust work with me here) and, therefore, has a hard time being taken seriously. She also is involved in some serious sibling rivalry with her handsome brother, GrantLeClair (Tom Hopper), who comes on to Amy at one point (Amy remains true to Ethan, so why did the haters not note THAT?)
Many critics praised the appearance of Lauren Hutton as Gramma LeClaire (Lily LeClaire) in “I Feel Pretty,” who founded the cosmetics company, which is attempting to turn out an affordable cosmetics line suitable for sale in Target stores.
Lauren appears as a retired model, which she really is. She made her film debut in 1968 in “Paper Lion” and still works as a model, apparently because she is still reed-thin.
Lauren definitely has been out in the sun too much for too long and she has done nothing to diminish the age-related wrinkles caused by too much sun exposure. I actually looked up her age, after the film, since I was hoping she was older than me. She was…but not by that much.
For someone who is listed as 74 (birthday: Nov. 17, 1943) she is thin, but, aside from that, she might consider whether the path she wants to take is the one taken by Jane Fonda, or the one taken by others, which doesn’t have to mean plastic surgery, but does mean trying to diminish age-related deterioration. Yes, I know. This is in direct opposition to the message of the movie, but the message of the movie for a young woman is quite different than for a “mature” (don’t say “old”) woman:society has not moved forward enough to accept prune-like visages that could have remained recognizable if the owner of the face had taken the slightest precautions.
To me, since we are only given one face, it is irresponsible not to at least try to keep it looking halfway decent. While that also applies to our bodies, I agree with Amy that a woman in today’s society ought to NOT have to be reed-thin to be considered attractive. We women have to bear children and cook and clean and, usually, also work,and genetics will get you every time, so not all of us will remain emaciated in our golden years. Lauren is reed-thin, so she gets to keep modeling. She looks like hell, facially, but nevermind that, as long as she is thin.
That, to me, was the message for we “mature” types and, yes, that was a contradiction of the first magnitude, which I blame(d) on the age difference between the character Amy is playing (Renee Bennett) and the one that Lauren Hutton is playing (Lily LeClaire).
And probably something that the writers never considered, either, since the male writer (Marc Silverstein) is also the husband of Busy Philipps, [whois supposed to be getting a talk show this fall] and Abby Kohn might have tried for Jane Fonda for the Lauren Hutton role—or any other mature actress who has not thrown caution to the winds and abandoned her face to extensive sun damage.
Director Sam Pollard brought his hugely entertaining documentary “Sammy Davis, Jr.: I’ve Gotta’ Be Me” to the 53rd Chicago International Film Festival and spoke about the fascinating subject of this film. A host of celebrities, ranging from Whoopie Goldberg to Billy Crystal to Sidney Poitier testify to the man who was “showbusiness from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.” Sammy Davis, Jr., won his first talent show at the age of three (He sang, “I’ll be glad when you’re dead, you rascal you.”) and performed with the Will Mastin Trio comprised of his father and uncle.
Until he was 45 years old, long past the life span of the trio, his earnings were split three ways amongst the members of the trio. Sammy was born to a Catholic mother and a Baptist father at 2632 140th St. and 8th Ave in Harlem, but converted to Judaism. He never went to school and, much like Michael Jackson, never had a real childhood.
Sammy’s big break-through as a singer was the song “Hey There” and stars like Eddie Cantor and Jerry Lewis (who is interviewedshortly before Lewis’ recent death) helped advise him. He lost his left eye in a 1954 car accident that was rumored to have been Mafia-inspired. It took him two years just to re-learn how to pour a glass of water, but he came back to performing as good as before. And when he was good, he was very, very good, singing, dancing, acting and doing impressions of white actors (a breakthrough for the times).
THE GOOD The film clips in this bio-pic (written by Laurence Maslon) are truly enjoyable and take you back to the days of the Rat Pack: Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Jr., Dean Martin, Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop. Those days began to fade in 1964 and the personal snub that Sammy felt when JFK excluded him from his Inaugural Ball (primarily because of Davis’ marriage to May Britt, a white Swedish beauty) hurt Sammy to the core. He is quoted as saying, “”Nobody’s gonna’ get inside any more. I can’t afford that luxury.”
When Harry Belafonte wanted Sammy to come to Selma for the civil rights march, he was appearing in “Golden Boy” on Broadway and told Belafonte his absence would close the play. Harry bought the house to get Sammy to come to Selma. Despite Davis’ efforts, he was often not accepted by the black community, who often considered him a sell-out and an Uncle Tom.
Sammy was the epitome of extravagance. He was ostentatious and larger than life, saying, “I have no desire to be the boy next door.” He is quoted as saying, “If I’m not going first class, the boat ain’t leaving the dock.” He was also the first black man to sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom in the White House.
The stories told of Sammy’s abuse when serving in the Army are truly heartbreaking. Even when he appeared in “Golden Boy” with Paula Wayne ( Arthur Penn directed), rednecks said, of Paula, “She’s the one who kissed the N—-.”
His only Number One Hit was “The Candyman” from the “Willy Wonka” movie and Sammy thought it was a terrible song. He also supported causes when they were not fashionable, supporting Richard Nixon for President and making trips to Vietnam when the tide of public sentiment had turned against the war. (“It’s not cool to be insupport of the war.”) He became an anachronism in his own time
Stories like the one about a patron at the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas complaining that Sammy was swimming in the swimming pool, which caused them to drain the pool were horrifying. The only place he felt safe was onstage, as he fought the odds his whole life (and usually won).
When he contracted throat cancer, he did not have surgery for fear he would never be able to sing again, but had radiation. He died on May 16, 1990, in his Beverly Hills home with third wife Altovise by his side.
None of the children from his marriage with May Britt, nor May Britt herself appeared in the documentary. Pollard shared that he hired a crew and a studio and flew to Nashville to interview Sammy’s daughter Tracey, but she did not show up on the appointed day. His children seem to have been lost to him, as “everything was about Sammy.” (His marriage to May Britt ended in 1964).
Documentary about the life of Sammy Davis, Jr., played at the 53rd International Chicago Film Festival with Director Sam Pollard in attendance.
This is a great documentary about a fantastically talented legend. Director Sam Pollard said, “We’re all complicated. He was larger than life and a public figure. I’m always drawn to the complexity. If you’re going to do a documentary about someone as phenomenally talented as Sammy, you look for the dark edges.” Pollard said he had read the autobiography “Yes, I Can: The Story of Sammy Davis, Jr.” (by Sammy and Jane and Burt Boyar) when he was 15. He noted that Sammy “had trouble being alone” and that they were “very fortunate that we had access to all the audio tapes from his autobiography.” As Whoopie Goldberg and Billy Crystal say in the documentary, “I don’t know if we’ll ever see that much talent in one person again.” Crystal likened him to a comet passing by the Earth.
Many black performers who appeared at his 60th anniversary in show business testimonial on February 4, 1990 (just 3 months before hisdeath), such as Michael Jackson and Geoffrey Hines, saluted him, saying, “Thanks to you, there’s a door we all walked through.”
The scenes of Davis tap-dancing with Hines literally days before his death from throat cancer demonstrate that he was one of a kind; he actually made Hines (tap dancing co-star of “White Nights” with Mikhail Baryshnikov) look clumsy by comparison.