Superman and the Axis of Evil

Not so long ago in the history of world politics, you might recall a certain war-mongering halfwit voicing his concerns over what he had labelled the "axis of evil". I have my own cinematic equivalent, my own celluloid axis of evil. I speak of an unholy trinity, detested by me in the way that only someone who likes films too much for his own good can possibly hate something; three acts of utter folly so worthy of contempt that if you gave me the choice of wiping them from existence or banishing world hunger I'd probably need a couple of days to think about it.

What are the ingredients of this trio of motion picture pariahs? Well, there's the worst film ever made - BATMAN AND ROBIN - the Clooney-starring disaster of a Batman film that not only put the final nail in the coffin of the franchise but took a dump on the corpse and danced naked over its grave; INDEPENDENCE DAY, the alien invasion movie that took the premise of WAR OF THE WORLDS, stripped out all the good bits and replaced them with jingoistic flag-waving and garnished it with scenes that a 12-year-old would have been embarrassed to have written; and SUPERMAN III, the film where someone decided we needed an ensemble of cringeworthy characters topped off by an appearance by Richard Pryor as comic relief - a film so bad that the utter guff that followed (SUPERMAN IV: THE QUEST FOR PEACE) is watchable in comparison.

Last year Christopher Nolan managed to rescue the Dark Knight again with the wonderful BATMAN BEGINS, which finally saw someone take the bold step of making a movie which was about Batman rather than featuring him as a support act for the villains. I'm still waiting for something to eradicate the unpleasantness of INDEPENDENCE DAY though (or the ridiculous abbreviated form "ID4", if you prefer - either way it still made me want to eat my own face off) - Steven Spielberg came close with WAR OF THE WORLDS but blew it out his arse with the final scene.

And then there's the big red and blue guy. Unless you've been living on the planet Krypton, which would be pretty difficult since it's (a) fictional and (b) exploded, you'll have noticed that there's a new film out, Bryan Singer's SUPERMAN RETURNS. Naturally I couldn't wait to see if it could get rid of the lingering taste of SUPERMAN III, and the fact that I'm a total comic geek probably had something to do with it too (hence the self indulgence of using an old comic cover rather than a picture of the film above). I know, it seems incredible that someone who spends far too much time removed from people and surfing the internet could possible be a comic geek, but what the hell, I'm all about shattering stereotypes. Er, yes, I am single now you mention it.

In recent years, successful comic-to-movie adaptations (or at least the superhero ones) have been the domain of Marvel Comics. X-MEN, THE HULK, SPIDER-MAN, DAREDEVIL, THE PUNISHER - well, okay, maybe the last couple are stretching it, and I'm not going to talk about ELEKTRA - they're all Marvel properties. Only last year's BATMAN BEGINS saw their main rivals DC Comics claw their way back into the game, but now the attack is in full force with the big blue boy scout making his comeback (and Wonder Woman is to follow sometime soon, bringing the final member of DC's big three to feature films for the first time).

I'm pleased to report the film is a success. Ignoring the painful memories of numbers 3 and 4, SUPERMAN RETURNS is essentially a sequel to the first couple of movies and begins with Superman returning to Earth from a mission to outer space where he has been looking for survivors of his home planet. But five years have passed since he left, and a lot has changed - Lex Luthor is out of jail and the love of his life, Lois Lane, has moved on with her life and is now a mother and engaged to be married.

We've waited a long time for this icon to return to the screen (and unlike KING KONG, this is one that we actually wanted to see back on the big screen) and Singer carries it off with aplomb.

One of the key strengths is his concentration on story over special effects - the effects are used sparingly (for a big blockbuster anyway - unlike KING KONG) and in some places I'd even say they're a little undercooked. The story takes a few liberties with the characters, in particular the central relationship between Superman, Lois, her husband-to-be and her kid but I won't spoil it by going into detail, and given what Singer achieves here (and already achieved with X-MEN) you really have to cut him a little slack.

Any other grumbles are minor (given the pasting Lois repeatedly takes without picking up a single bruise, I can't help wondering if Superman is the only one with superpowers) and for a film of this length (about two and a half hours) the time really flies by. Unlike KING KONG. Sorry, that'll be the end of the KONG bashing for now, honest.

The casting of the main roles is another strong point. The previously unknown Brandon Routh has no trouble at all in taking up the cape, though it will be some time before he fully escapes Christopher Reeve's shadow; as Lois Lane, Kate Bosworth doesn't quite have the same dominant, smartass presence as Margot Kidder but still captures the essence of the character (headstrong and always in trouble, essentially) and if you'll allow me to be totally superficial she's quite a bit easier on the eye too; and Kevin Spacey, with the exception of a couple of OTT moments, is superb as Lex Luthor. He strikes the perfect balance of arrogance, intellect, evil and baldness, falling halfway between comic book mad scientist and an Enron boss.

In one of his most inspired decisions, Singer has also retained the legendary theme music composed by John Williams - if that doesn't make your hair stand on end in the cinema again after all these years, you're beyond saving.

And yes, there are even a few moments for the comic geeks too. Perry White gets to utter his catchphrase; there's a fleeting reference to Batman's stomping ground; the updated "S" symbol, while different to the more famous one used in the original movie, is closer to the one that was used back in the early years of the comics; and best of all, there is a lifting-up-a-car scene that perfectly recreates the image from Superman's first appearance on the cover of Action Comics #1 way back in 1938. If you like that sort of thing.

All in all, the film's a triumph. Superman does indeed return as the title promises, but it's not just about his literal return to Earth; he's returning to the cinema; returning to the public consciousness; returning to the status of American icon rather than laughing stock.

You'll believe a man can fly... again!

In a rare moment of seriousness, I encourage you to pop along to www.ChristopherReeve.org and do your bit for paralysis research.

Just a shot away

The work of David Maysles, Albert Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin, GIMME SHELTER documents the 1969 tour of the USA embarked upon by the legendary Rolling Stones, which was to culminate in a large-scale free concert, Woodstock-style, at the Altamont Speedway in San Francisco.

The film's opening scenes flip between footage of the Stones' opener in New York to the aftermath of the tour which sees Mick and Charlie sitting in on the editing of the footage, giving the movie a strange film-within-a-film vibe that sets it apart from so many others of its ilk. Their concentration is not held however by the concert footage that has been recorded, but rather by a radio phone-in which is discussing the Altamont concert and, specifically, the murder of an audience member just yards from the stage where the Stones were playing.

Armed with this knowledge straight from the off, the film runs a thin line between documentary and drama. Documentary it certainly is, but by alerting us at the start as to the horrific end that awaits, the film builds tension and drama as well as any fictional narrative might have done.

The concert footage and the scenes of organisation are not dissimilar to that of many other concert movies, though it should be said that not every concert movie captures a band like the Stones in their prime. Where the film comes to life however is the infamous concert at Altamont.

Audience members were kept waiting; tempers were running high; tension began to build between the kids in the audience and the Hell's Angels guarding the stage. Something was going to happen and you can see it brewing before your eyes, helplessly witnessing the build-up to the impending tragedy and yet unable to avert your gaze.

It's easy to say in hindsight, but one wonders just how good an idea it was to hire Hell's Angels as security for the gig. I won't dwell on the issue but it seems an odd choice to these young eyes watching the concert so many years later.

Gradually the action spilled out onto the stage, bringing Jefferson Airplane's set to a standstill as people appeared from the audience on the stage and the Angels struggled to control the situation. Tempers were flaring, fights were breaking out; by the time the Stones got round to their performance it was almost inevitable that something would explode.

And so it did. After repeated attempts to thwart the fights in the crowd, the Stones came to the end of "Under My Thumb" and something happened. Just yards in front of where Mick was standing there was sudden movement, a flurry of arms... and panic. I haven't specified here what happened because, even if you know of the incident and are looking for it, it's very difficult to see. Difficult, that is, until the makers of GIMME SHELTER give us the benefit of close-ups and freeze-frames.

There's a tussle in the crowd. A young black man in a distinctive green suit pulls a gun. One of the Angels is upon him and thrusts a knife at him, a stabbing that was to prove fatal and would forever taint the memory and the name of Altamont.

When watching the movie it's difficult to say what is more sobering - the incident being replayed; the shot of the young man's body being loaded into an ambulance; or the sight of the normally larger-than-life Jagger sitting quietly in front of a monitor at a later date contemplating what has happened. All these moments stick in the mind, along with the nagging question of what would have happened had the stabbing not taken place - just where would that gun have been aimed?

If you're wondering why I've not made much of the Stones performances in the movie, it's not because they're bad. They are as impressive as you'd expect; it's just that the incident at Altamont is unfortunately what sticks in the head after you've seen the movie.

There is an argument about the merits of the movie as documentary - is it really a document of the Stones' tour which just happened to end in tragedy? Or is it a glorified snuff movie, cynically exploiting a murder to sell a movie? On the one hand, the incident certainly isn't immediately visible, but the filmmakers certainly make sure we've seen it by the end.

No matter which version of the above conundrum you go with there is no denying the power of the movie as both a piece of rockumentary history and a snapshot of a changing time in America.

And so ends the Freakpit's concert movie marathon, but before I wind up I should point out one little piece of trivia. You'll recall the trigger for this string of concert movie viewings was the fact that I'd been unable to attend any of the screenings of GLASTONBURY recently at my local arthouse cinemas. Well, ironically enough, right in the middle of this marathon session (Saturday night to be precise), the film aired on British TV for the first time (it's a BBC film, hence the quick trip from cinema to television), giving me the opportunity to see it after all.

It wasn't very good.

The psychedelic concentration camp!

From the USA to Canada and now to England. In 1970, hundreds of thousands of people turned up for what could have been Britain's Woodstock, an incredible achievement given that it was held in the relative isolation of the Isle of Wight.

The line-up of performers was incredible but the hippie ideals were trodden into the sodden British mud as back-stage arguments and chaos outside the venue saw the love generation's dream once more turn sour.

The spectacle is captured warts and all in the enthralling film A MESSAGE TO LOVE. Taking its cue from WOODSTOCK, the movie documents the festival with a combination of footage of the build up to the event, the happenings on stage, off stage and behind the scenes and the views of the locals who had to put up with the youth descending on their home for a weekend of free love, loud music and a fair amount of drugs too.

The mood of the festival and its surroundings is captured in everything from the gonzo rendition of "There'll Always be an England" by Tiny Tim to the pleas of the organisers regarding a drugs amnesty for minors to the contrasting views of the locals. There are no fancy split-screen effects like WOODSTOCK, but the opinions are certainly more entertaining - on one side of the fence there is the local woman (who I confess I thought may have been a man in drag, but I think she's a woman) who is delighted to have them here, while taking the contrary stance is the digruntled toff who accuses them of being communists. Interesting view point, though some might say completely nuts.

The film sticks in the minds for two reasons though - one is the terrific music (more on that later) while the other is the sight of the festival going wrong as, just as in Canada (see yesterday's blog), trouble erupts due to a group of deluded attendees who think the festival should be free. The sight of one of the main organisers getting up on stage and telling them exactly what he thinks of them is one that makes for an interesting contrast with the whole peace and love ethic.

As for the music... well, there's Jimi Hendrix, making his last UK appearance less than three weeks before his death; The Doors, featuring Jim Morrison also making his last UK appearance; The Who, wreaking havok as usual; John Sebastian, looking as stoned as he did at Woodstock; Emerson, Lake and Palmer kickstarting the Prog Rock movement with their wild stage show; The Moody Blues, Miles Davis, Ten Years After, Leonard Cohen, Joan Baez and a whole lot more. An eclectic and talented selection of musicians for sure.

But it was the dark side of the event that dominates my memories of the movie, particularly since on this occasion it spilled over into the music as well. Witness, for example, Kris Kristofferson's obvious displeasure at the negative attitude of certain sections of the crowd (he was heard to remark about this incident on stage when he played the Big Sur Folk Festival in California a short while later). On top of that, there is Joni Mitchell having her set gatecrashed by a pathetic member of the crowd who wanted to hijack the microphone after her performance of "Woodstock". The idiot was dragged off by security but left Mitchell visibly upset; she recovered however to pick up her guitar and belt out a cracking performance of "Big Yellow Taxi".

That, to me, sums up the film. It's a film showcasing many wonderful musical performances but is shot through with anger, unrest and disillusionment and marks another nail in the coffin for the hippie movement.

The unrest recorded in FESTIVAL EXPRESS and A MESSAGE TO LOVE was not completely new however. There are some who would argue that in order to pinpoint one single moment when the peace and love ideals of a generation collapsed, you need only point to one particular concert that had taken place the previous year, a concert held by the Rolling Stones that would be forever associated with one shocking and tragic outburst of violence.

...which of course seems like a suitable subject for my next blog entry. Join me tomorrow when my concert movie marathon concludes with that infamous day at Altamont.

"Drivin' that train, high on cocaine..."

A great deal of the chaos surrounding Woodstock must have been a result of the immeasurable numbers flocking to one location for an event of that size. What better way then to avoid such problems than taking the event to the people?

FESTIVAL EXPRESS documents the adventures and misadventures of a large, privately-hired train working its way across Canada, its passengers being a bunch of rock and roll stars who would get off and play a gig at each stop. Taking place the year after the New York spectacular, there weren't as many bands on the Festival Express as were at Woodstock but that certainly didn't dampen anyone's enthusiasm. Sadly, they didn't avoid the chaos of Woodstock either.

The music is once again terrific. The Grateful Dead are on top form; Buddy Guy was there, performing his brand of blues magic; The Band played all their classics (here performing on home soil); Sha Na Na make another brief appearance as they did at Woodstock; also following a knock-down performance at Woodstock, Janis Joplin would once again wow the crowds.

However, as enjoyable as the music is, the film is fascinating almost as much for off-stage activity as on-stage.

A window into another time and place, the film showcases incredible footage of many top artists of the day sitting around the train together drinking, chatting and jamming - the sight of these musicians all sitting playing together is something, but equally interesting are the quieter moments when, as with other concert movie highlights, once again we catch sight of rare glimpses of those who have since faded into rock legend (in one scene, Janis Joplin sits in with Rick Danko of the band and Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead - all of whom are sadly no longer with us).

The tribulations captured by the film remind us that it wasn't all drink, drugs and rock'n'roll however. Well, maybe it does remind us about the drink, since one incident sees the train being drunk dry and having to make an emergency stop to fill up, at which point some lucky/unlucky off-licence owner witnessed a trainful of rock stars empty the shelves of his shop.

The main chaos ensued however when it was decided by a group of people, perhaps inspired by Woodstock before them, that the concert should be free. The hippie notion of how morally wrong it was to be charging for such concerts was always going to be a problem (idealist it may be, but practical it certainly wasn't) and trouble ensued, with the young concert attenders clashing with the police outside the venue.

This news travelled and similar problems would greet the organisers as they turned up for the next stops on the line, resulting in a series of free concerts being given just to keep the peace.

The notion that something should be free just because it's possible, regardless of the practicalities, is not one that has disappeared in the wake of these festivals. In the late 60s and early 70s such ideas were obviously aimed at music events like these, but is it really any different from the belief held today by many that music, films, software, etc. should be downloaded illegally from the internet just because it's possible, rather than paying for the product? The more things change...

FESTIVAL EXPRESS is a wonderful concert movie and fascinating for capturing the best and worst of the festival (the music and the crowd trouble respectively) but is also one piece of evidence that perhaps the love generation's ideals and dreams were beginning to turn sour. It certainly wasn't the only film to show the dark side of the Woodstock spirit - similar events occurred that same year over in England.

And you can read about that tomorrow...

Three days of peace and music

With the currently available director's cut weighing in at about three and a half hours, you can't accuse Michael Wadleigh's WOODSTOCK of skimping with the material. At that length, your willingness to sit and watch may well depend on your opinion of the music - most of which I love - but that's a shame because in between songs it paints a fascinating portrait of the hippie ideals that were sweeping America's youth in the late sixties.

Putting the music to one side, the film stands as more than just a document of a concert, but that is largely to do with the fact that Woodstock was no ordinary concert.

While originally ticketed, the organisers had to eventually give in and make it a free concert by virtue of the number of people who turned up - estimates always vary but there were certainly well in excess of half a million people in the crowd. One of the most stunning sights in the movie is when you see the crowd from outside or from on stage and realise that you can't actually see where it ends - there are literally people as far as the eye can see.

Of course this popularity brought its own problems. Roads were blocked, people died, other people gave birth, food was dropped in from the sky as the whole area officially became classified as a disaster area. Injuries and bad trips aside (they were actually doing drugs, can you believe it?) it certainly didn't look like a disaster from the inside.

The highlights for me, from a musical perspective, are almost too numerous to count - the concert exploding into life with a fine performance by Richie Havens; Joan Baez being on fine form with the song Joe Hill; the madcap energy of rock'n'roll outfit Sha-Na-Na; Arlo Guthrie, Jefferson Airplane and Janis Joplin all performing at the top of their game; the hilarious though biting performance of Country Joe McDonald and his anti-Vietnam ditty I Feel Like I'm Fixing to Die Rag (if that performance doesn't raise a chuckle and have you tapping your feet, it's probably worth checking for a pulse); and the Lovin' Spoonful's John Sebastian coming on stage to perform, clearly having indulged in a little too much of the Woodstock spirit and exclaiming various messages of love and "far out" style shenanigans (but still delivering a memorable performance of Younger Generation).

The only weak points in my opinion (and these are solely a reflection of my musical tastes) are those that other people might well afford "legend" status. The Who were typically Who-like but I just don't rate their cover version of Eddie Cochrane's Summertime Blues; and the legendary performance of Jimi Hendrix (particularly his Star Spangled Banner rendition) when half the crowd had gone home, which has passed into legend but doesn't impress me particularly. I appreciate that it's very clever being able to play the guitar with your teeth and make it perform all manner of weird noises, but I'm one of those traditional folks who would rather hear someone simply play a tune, and when his rendition of the American national anthem descends into a cacophonous racket designed to showcase his technical skills I find it hard to keep paying attention.

The film captures the event like no other movie had ever done - Wadleigh (with assistant director Martin Scorsese - there's that man again) employed a groundbreaking split-screen technique that not only allowed coverage of the music acts from different angles simultaneously but also allowed him to show one of the acts at the same time as some of the crowd, or to show two opposing sides of the same scene. It's here that it becomes particularly useful as the film employs fascinating documentary footage not just to show the behind the scenes manoevres at the concert but also the divided opinions of the youths attending the gig and the locals who had to put up with it (some of whom were very understanding while others were very much of the stereotypical "you're a disgrace" kind of attitude).

It might be a long movie but it's worth sitting through from both a musical perspective and a historical one - there had never been an event quite like Woodstock and there never would be again... and you could argue the same thing about the movie itself.

It's also significant because the "peace and love" ideals of the flower children were to turn sour very soon - as we'll see very shortly...

California dreaming

1967, the Summer of Love - Monterey, California. Amidst a crowd of hippies and "normal" folk, one of the greatest ever music festivals was to take place, showcasing some of the finest musicians of the late sixties. Luckily for us folks too young to remember (and those old enough to want to relive it), filmmaker D.A. Pennebaker was on hand with his crew to cover the occasion.

From the many, many hours of footage shot it would be a tough choice deciding what would make the film (the simply titled MONTEREY POP) and what would end up on the cutting room floor, but the end film (or rather films - I'll get to that in a minute) is an engrossing documentary of the concert that manages a good spread of artists while capturing the spirit of the occasion. While many key performances are captured, there are still plenty scenes of the flower children enjoying themselves and espousing their beliefs - it's a real snapshot of a bygone era, and a very special time in modern history.

The first live performance is that of the Mamas and the Papas performing their famous California Dreaming. It's not a note perfect rendition but it's a perfect evocation of the time and an appropriate choice given that this first (and only) Monterey Pop Festival was organised by their very own John Phillips.

There are plenty of musical highlights to choose from - Simon & Garfunkel in their prime; Jefferson Airplane demonstrating why they were one of the biggest bands in the psychedlic scene; The Who inevitably give us a blast of My Generation. Some of the briefest moments are the most perfectly realised, such as Michelle Phillips' excitement at Ravi Shankar's performance, or her companion Mama Cass registering her obvious amazement at the vocal gymnastics of the late, great Janis Joplin.

And it's things like this that make it truly special - the capturing of performances by so many artists in their prime who were sadly not to grace the music world for as long as we would have wished. Performances by Janis Joplin, Otis Redding and Jimi Hendrix all stick in the mind. While Hendrix decides he's going to outdo the antics of Pete Townsend and friends by performing all manner of feats with his guitar (including, eventually, setting it on fire and throwing pieces to the crowd) it's the performance of Otis Redding that makes the film.

At the time, Otis was just beginning to establish himself as something special but it was his appearance at Monterey where he truly made his mark. Having already seen a wonderful selection of bands performing, he had his work cut out for him. Indeed, the love generation must have wondered what to make of it all, seeing backing band Booker T & The MGs standing on stage in their matching lime green suits before the big O himself marched out dressed in a not dissimilar dark green number. Any doubts were relieved with his powerhouse performance of Shake! but it was his soulful rendition of his untouchable ballad I've Been Loving You Too Long that wowed the audience and marked the emergence of a giant.

Both performances were captured in MONTEREY POP but his whole five-song set was preserved, like that of Hendrix, in a separate short film. The Hendrix performance (JIMI PLAYS MONTEREY) is more of a documentary which culminates in his live performance at Monterey; the film centering on Redding however was simply a document of his set at Monterey (SHAKE! OTIS AT MONTEREY) that lasts less than 20 minutes but is among the most amazing musical performances ever recorded.

Redding was to meet his tragic death a matter of months after this appearance but thanks to Pennebaker's MONTEREY POP and SHAKE! films we are at least lucky enough to have this special performance preserved - a live recording that is truly commensurate with the full magnitude of Redding's greatness.

From the Summer of Love, it seems the only logical progression is move forward another couple of years to the very pinnacle of the love generation's musical achievements. Join me again tomorrow, when we'll be at a farm somewhere in New York State...

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Before I go on with my appreciation of Elvis in concert, I should lay down a couple more rules. When I said I was going to cover concert movies, I should have clarified what I meant - these are movies that are more than just a recording of a concert. They are frequently spread over many concerts, or maybe cover one concert but with the complete build up, or are laced with behind the scenes footage, or whatever.

The other rule I set myself is that, since I'm talking about movies here, I wasn't going to allow the inclusion of TV specials either. Due to both of the aforementioned rules, the broadcast of Live Aid for example would not count - it's just a live TV broadcast of a concert rather than a movie with any kind of narrative structure. There's also the fact that a great deal of the music it presented is, in hindsight, utter pish. Look, I'm sorry, I know it was a good cause and I sat and watched it myself at the time, but I couldn't sit through it again now.

The reason this digression occurs now is that it means that when I decided which movie could suitably represent the king of rock'n'roll I immediately had to discount two of my personal favourites, THE 1968 COMEBACK SPECIAL and ALOHA FROM HAWAII. Both were conceived of as TV events, and in the case of the former, it wasn't really a concert anyway.

That left me with the obvious choice - ELVIS: THAT'S THE WAY IT IS. Recorded on his tour in 1970, this concert movie captures Elvis in what many might describe as his prime - he'd transcended the mere rock'n'roll performances of his early career but had not yet turned into the lardy-arsed parody of himself that everyone remembers from just before that fatal trip to the john. It's not an opinion that's going to be shared by everyone (even I have to confess that I think Presley's music got better in direct proportion to the size of his gut, so the Vegas pie-master would always get my vote) but there's no denying that the performance captured in the movie is special.

The most well-known number in the movie is probably his performance of Suspicious Minds, since it was not only used in the UK as an advert for Sky TV but was also released as a single when the movie was re-released a few years back. It undoubtedly captures Elvis in all his glory but the real energy of the performance owes much to his backing band too - as much as the king gives it his all, every time I see this performance of Suspicious Minds I can't help wondering how Ronnie Tutt managed to play the drums at such speed without his arms dislocating in several places.

The movie is more than just a concert though. It captures the essence of two things, Elvis the performer and Elvis the phenomenon. The former is reflected not just in the stage performances captured but also in the behind the scenes footage showing the build up and the rehearsals as Elvis and the band work out the arrangements for each song. To all the doubters who say that because he never wrote a song Elvis was "only" a singer, this film demonstrates that he had a very much hands on approach to the music and how it was performed.

As for Elvis the phenomenon... this is documented throughout the movie (usually in the form of young girls screaming - happens to me all the time, but for the wrong reasons), whether it be the excitement of his fans or the sight of celebrities in the crowd (Sammy Davis Jr and Cary Grant both pop up). The pinnacle of the Elvismania however surely has to be his performance of Love Me Tender, at which point he wanders off stage to go round the crowd kissing lots of women, all of whom swoon, scream, faint, or all three. It's the kind of thing that, were it not so famous, you just wouldn't believe.

And among it all, somewhere, there are a few songs performed too.

Although I feel THAT'S THE WAY IT IS is the better movie, there's every chance you might prefer ELVIS ON TOUR (which, as mentioned yesterday, had a little involvement from Martin Scorsese). It's a more straightforward movie covering his tour a couple of years after THAT'S THE WAY IT IS (and he's visibly carrying a few more pounds) which features some cracking performances once more. Indeed from a strictly musical point of view it's my favourite of the two, which may be largely to do with the presence of An American Trilogy, one of my favourite Elvis numbers - a song so fantastic it even sounded good when performed in Hungarian by Elvis tribute singer Laszlo Komar. (Don't ask.)

As a movie however, it's not quite the same. There's a bit of behind the scenes footage but nothing particularly insightful and, despite attempts to show the progression of Elvis with some old montages, it's really the concert footage that stands out. There are some nice moments such as when Elvis has to perform the then-new Burning Love with the lyrics written on a piece of paper in front of him.

However, one of the most striking moments (for me, anyway) was when one breathless young female fan is being interviewed and professes her undying love for Elvis and goes on at great length about how she'll always love him - stating that "he'll never grow too old"... a remark that, in hindsight, proves to be eerily on-the-mark but sadly for all the wrong reasons. He'd be dead before the decade was out. And on that cheery note I'll move on.

So far I've concentrated on one band and one solo artist - but many of the great concert movies showcase a variety of talents and I'll now be covering some of them. For, as we'll see, while Elvis was making his comeback to the live arena, a new movement was sweeping America - the world of hippies, psychedelia, free love and all that groovy stuff, man.

Join me tomorrow as we rewind the clock a few years to the Summer of Love...

A concert movie that's worth The Weight

First up in the concert movie marathon is THE LAST WALTZ, the film documenting the farewell concert of The Band, who'd been on the road together for 16 years before calling it a day. This wasn't to be just any old concert though - staged in the venue where they'd first played together all those years ago, the warm-up was to be a thanksgiving dinner laid on for all the attendees first (a few thousand of them) before the concert proper.

The concert itself was more than just The Band playing a selection of their hits too - they were joined on stage throughout the evening by a selection of guests. As you'd expect, Ronnie Hawkins and Bob Dylan were there (The Band having supported both acts in the past) but in addition they were joined by the likes of Muddy Waters, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Eric Clapton, Van Morrison, Neil Diamond, Dr John... the list goes on. And on.

It's hard to go wrong with an assortment like that - it's enjoyable enough to see The Band belting out all the classics with which they'd become associated (The Weight, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, I Shall Be Released) but when backed by a stellar line-up like that it's something special.

Not that it was all songs from The Band's playlist. Part of the thrill is seeing this wonderful line-up of artists performing their own songs, backed by the musical artistry of The Band, whether it be Neil Young's Helpless (backed by Joni Mitchell), Mitchell's Coyote, or blues legend Muddy Waters giving us the classic Mannish Boy.

There's not a bum note in the whole film and you can't help but be impressed by the finale in which every artist comes back on stage to join in on the classic I Shall Be Released.

In order to document the film, The Band called on director Martin Scorsese, who brought with him Michael Chapman as director of photography (with whom he'd already made TAXI DRIVER). He also brought with him a love of the music (not his only foray into music documentary, he'd also been involved with the likes of ELVIS ON TOUR and the legendary WOODSTOCK - more about them later - and would go on to offer a fascinating insight into The Band's special guest Bob Dylan many years later in NO DIRECTION HOME).

The end result is not only a film that looks and sounds terrific but demonstrates Scorsese's reverence for the musicians themselves and captures the real sense of occasion. Unlike "event" films such as WOODSTOCK, this film, like the concert itself, was all about The Band. There were no interviews with die-hard fans, no shots of awed spectators, no lingering shots of the build up. What is documented in THE LAST WALTZ is the concert itself, or highlights at least, interspersed with a few numbers recorded in the studio (including a theme written for the movie and collaborations with the Staple Singers and Emmylou Harris) and interviews with The Band themselves.

The interviews bring an added dimension to the film, as the band members (Robbie Robertson in particular) talk at length about their experiences on the road and why, after all this time, they had decided to call it quits.

The film we are left with is part biography, part concert document, and all celebration - a fitting tribute to an extremely talented group of musicians and a testament to all they achieved.

So from a band marking the end of an era to an artist who was arguably in his prime - join me tomorrow where I'll be casting my eye over everyone's favourite spangly-suited burger-monkey...

The Freakpit Concert Movie Marathon!

Okay, sorry - I've spent so much time recently during my recovery period watching other films, reading stuff and watching the World Cup (and getting the odd bit of exercise too, I should point out) that I've neglected the oh-so-important task of forcing other people to listen to my opinions.

One of the downsides to my convalescence is that I did not get to the cinema, which in turn meant I missed out on the screenings at my local independent cinemas of Julian Temple's documentary GLASTONBURY. In case you hadn't guessed, it's a documentary charting the three decades of England's famous music festival.

It's not that I'm particularly interested in the festival itself - I'm not - but I do like a good concert movie now and again. Therefore, in the absence of the aforementioned film I thought I'd settle down with a few of my own favourite concert films. The result of this is the string of blog entries you're about to see over the next week or so.

Yes, it's another Freakpit marathon, one of those ones where I spread lots of things out over a longer period to make it look like I made more of an effort writing them - one a day, probably for about the next week or so. Sort of like I did with the BLIND DEAD films only this time there isn't a horse-riding zombie in sight. Mind you, with some of the antics that prog rock bands used to get up to on stage you might not bet against it.

I'll draw the line at concerts though - strictly concert movies only, not any other form of music-based films. My reason for that is simple enough. Plenty of films have been made to showcase a particular band or artist, but if I decide to cover them then I'll inevitably end up writing about CAN'T STOP THE MUSIC, the early-1980s debacle starring the Village People - and believe me, that's a memory that none of us want reminded of. Except that I just did. Sorry.

So what's first? Join me tomorrow and find out! (Oooh, I'm such a tease)