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God of the Piano – An Ambitious Tale

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Is ambition a good thing or a setting for disaster? Certainly it can challenge people to great things, but it also may lead to our downfalls. In the Israeli film God of the Piano, directed by Itay Tal, we see the darker side of ambition as it plays out in the life of a woman and her child.

Anat (Naama Preis) is a concert pianist (part of a very musically inclined family). The film opens with her at the piano in a concert hall. Her water breaks. When she delivers the child, it is discovered he is born deaf. How will such a child ever become the great musician Anat is planning on him becoming? After switching bracelets with another baby, she takes home a hearing child. In no time at all he son Idan (Andi Levi) is becoming an excellent pianist, and moving into composing. At 12 years old, he is seeking to be accepted into a prestigious music program.

Anat has become the musical version of a pushy stage mother. She has abandoned her own career to make sure that Idan has every advantage. And she will stop at nothing to advance his possibilities. Idan seems to go along with this, but he also wants some of the other things in life that 12 year olds enjoy. What will happen to Anat’s dreams if Idan just isn’t quite good enough? Does that bring new guilt to the act in the hospital when she swapped babies?

One of the comments made during the film is that there are composers and musicians, and then there are technicians. There are those who can achieve greatness. Others may have great skill, but lack the little bit that will make them artists. When Anat’s father tells her this, he adds, “You know who he inherited it from.”

That last line hints at issues of nature versus nurture. Is musical ability something in the genes or is it learned? Both perspectives could be seen as an inheritance. For Anat, those words certainly trigger guilt. Her actual child would never have had the abilities Idan had. (We never see just what abilities he might have, although in the end, Anat is becoming curious.) And the abilities she has nurtured in Idan may not be enough either. Her father’s comment cuts at her from both directions.

Anat’s life has been centered in ambition. Her talent was adequate, but not exceptional. Probably even before the birth of her son, she had plans for what his life in music would be like. That the gods of fate had stepped in to dash those dreams at the very beginning, did not stop her. But even then, she is still in danger of having the goals of her life blocked. Her ambitions have become the cause of her unhappiness. It seems very like a Greek tragedy.

What makes this even more tragic is that it is so centered in music—something that brings joy to most of us. Often we feed our souls with music. We use it as an act of celebration. Yet for Anat, and others in this story, music is only a tool to be mastered and used for self. So music, and the ambition it drives in these characters, is not something of joy, but of pain. Perhaps it would be better to be deaf.

God of the Piano is available on Virtual Cinema through local arthouses.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

I Am Woman – Raising Her Voice

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♫ “I am strong. I am invincible. I am woman.” ♫

Those words were part of what became the anthem of the Second Wave Women’s Movement in the 1970s. Unjoo Moon makes it the cornerstone of her Helen Reddy biopic, I Am Woman. The film is in part a celebration of her music set within her story amidst the background of the Women’s Movement.

Helen Reddy (Tilda Cobham-Hervey) arrives with her daughter in New York in 1966 thinking she has won a record contract. It turns out the label has no plans for her. She sings in a lounge trying to make ends meet, but it is a struggle. She is befriended by fellow Aussie Lilian Roxon (Danielle Macdonald). At a party, she also meets Jeff Wald (Evan Peters) who is seeking a way into the management business. Jeff and Helen hit it off romantically. They move to Los Angeles where Jeff gets his foot in the door of the industry, but Helen is languishing in the role of housewife. She nags him into doing for her what he does for other clients, eventually getting her a chance to record some covers. That gets her started on her career.

Throughout the first half of the film, the demeaning nature of the male dominated entertainment industry (and culture as a whole) is obvious. She is pigeon-holed in a certain genre of music. Her husband is in many ways just as bad as everyone else in his view of the place of women, but he knows how to help Helen find success. It becomes obvious when she writes “I Am Woman” and wants to include it on her album. The men react to it, thinking it sounds “angry” and “man-hating”. But Jeff convinces them to bury it in the last half of the album because no one listens to that part anyway. But Jeff promotes that song in ways that make it a hit. Helen is one her way.

This is a by-the-numbers biopic. Intro. Struggle. Love interest. Success. Marital problems. Finding a new personal fulfillment. That motif is frequently used to tell stories that are designed to inspire. I Am Woman is a story of a woman who has to overcome both the struggle to find success, and the effects of attaining it.

Playing in the background is the society-wide struggle that women faced during that period. We see bits of the Women’s Movement and the battle for the Equal Rights Amendment. In some ways, Helen Reddy’s story reflects that period. She faces being talked down to because she is a woman. But she also becomes a symbol of a successful woman, with her own TV show, and worldwide fame. But there is also a downside to the life she has tried so hard at achieve. And in the end, like the ERA, perhaps all the success is just for show and there needs to be more done.

I Am Woman is playing in theaters and on VOD.

Music that Changed the World: 1on1 with Brent Wilson (STREETLIGHT HARMONIES)

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Directed by Brent Wilson, Streetlight Harmonies shines a spotlight on the origins of doo-wop and its influence on the broader culture. Among the endless jukebox of melodies and memories, we hear how these performers found themselves on the front lines of the battle over segregation as they toured deep south towns, where Jim Crow was the law of the land. Courageous musicians, white and black, contributed to concert desegregation and helped sway the public against Jim Crow, using the great common denominator of music to bring audiences together. Asked what sparked his interest in this very specific (and unique) era of music history, Wilson says that his love of the style extends back into his childhood.

“I grew up in a time where we didn’t have as many choices as we have today,” he recalls. “You were kind of forced to listen to your parent’s music. This was before the Walkman, and I certainly didn’t have iPods and things like that. So, you got in the car, and you listened to your parents’ records and, on the weekends, it was your parents who were having parties and playing music. So, I just put up with it and I liked it. I didn’t rebel against it. I really enjoyed just some of those great groups of the ‘60s that they were listening to. I just enjoyed it. Then, as a young teenager, I really loved the movie American Graffiti. The soundtrack on that film is just one of the greatest soundtracks ever to this day (and, maybe a few years later, Stand By Me.) That was the one that really hooked me in and got me loving the music. I’ve always been a big believer in the power of music in films.”

“As for the film itself, our producer Tim Headington is a collector and lover of art and he loves music. We were talking about doo-wop music and how it had never really been taken very seriously and we both really liked it. It was Tim and Susan who [asked] has there ever actually been a serious documentary done on the genre? Of course, there’ve been dozens on rock and roll and blues, jazz, and some of the other American art forms. Sure enough, no one had actually ever done one before. That began our journey. We knew that at that point that we had something pretty special. When you can find something as dynamic as [the story of] this music and it’s not been told before, it really excites you as a filmmaker and that’s what kicked us off down that path.”

Despite its historical significance, Wilson soon discovered that doo-wop was vastly underrepresented in terms of information. 

“One of the things that we discovered was just how overlooked the genre had become,” he explains. “We initially reached out to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame to see about any kind of resource materials they had and we discovered just how few of these groups were in there. It really began to kind of shape our philosophy for the film. Also, as we began to do the research, you’re looking to read books and there’s only like two books out there. There are a thousand books on the blues, jazz and country but there was like two written on doo-wop and they were never true examinations of it. It really did form a lot of our philosophy in the film that this music was so overlooked and we explore the different reasons for that and the impact that it had. It was a short time, but man, what it did in that time we felt was really important.”

Given the incredible contribution of groups like Franky Lymon and the Teenagers and the Flamingos to today’s popular culture, one might expect that today’s vocal artists would have a deep appreciation of their place in music history. Nevertheless, Wilson believes that many of the this generation’s performers are simply unaware of the impact of groups that came before.

“I know Lance [Bass], Justin [Timberlake] and the ‘NSync guys really well, and I know they recognize it but I don’t know if some of these others that have come a little bit later in these last couple of years are [as familiar with them],” Wilson explains. “When I think about ‘NSync and Backstreet Boys and the surge there in the early ’90s, I think there was a more of a little bit more of a direct connect [to the genre], certainly at least to Motown. But I think now it’s become a copy of a copy of the copy. I don’t know if they recognize it. Certainly, when you talk to Charlie Thomas and La La Brooks and some of those pioneers, they’ll definitely tell you that they don’t recognize it. I think one of the things that’s culturally an issue, where we just don’t recognize those enough that have come before us. I think this music was never just taken that seriously. So, I hope this film, in some small way, will help these artists just recognize the ones that came before them.” 

“All this K-pop and [styles like that], there’d be none of that if it hadn’t been for Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers,” he continues. “[Newer groups] have rights in their contracts and their contracts are better protected because so many of those kids in the ‘50s got taken and now, the laws are much stricter. People are much more savvy. Back then, there was no precedent for these kinds of things and they paid a high, high price to be first. I hope a few of those [younger] artists [see the film] and give a shout out to The Drifters to The Teenagers and The Flamingos. That would be wonderful. There are some [that know the history]. I’ve seen [Bruno Mars] talk about it before. We tried to reach out to Bruno but he was just always on tour. That made it very difficult. So, there are some that are out there but we do certainly need more.”

In light of this, one of the most powerful moments within Harmonies comes towards the end of the film as Wilson and his team invites legends such as Charlie Thomas, La La Brooks and Vito Picone to band together for a performance with a cappella group, Straight No Chaser. To Wilson, the opportunity to see generations come together was not only exciting but powerful as well.

“The idea [to include the final song together] was [that] we really wanted to show that direct connection [between generations],” he beams. “Straight No Chaser is just a phenomenal group of talented young men and to have them bridging that creative gap with some of those legends was just [amazing]. It was producer Theresa Page’s idea to have them record “Stand By Me” and it was just a stroke of genius. Every time I watched that scene, I get chills. If Charlie Thomas’ voice doesn’t make the hair on your arms stand up, I don’t know what to tell you. [laughs]”

While exploring the roots of doo-wop, Streetlight Harmonies is also willing to explore the darker experiences of black vocal groups during the era of racial segregation. However, despite the pain and difficulties of the time, Wilson’s film also shows the power of music to begin to tear down barriers between people.

“One of the key themes as a film itself is that, despite all that these artists went through going through the Jim Crow South and having to sing to the wall, at one point they got mixed audiences,” he points out. “They would have white audiences on the left and black audiences on the right and then as the audiences started to mingle and dance and take down the ropes, they wouldn’t even let them look at the audience. They would make them turn their back to [them]. So, it seems like every time society would try to curtail what was happening, which was an acceptance of a people, they would find a way to continue to push the boundaries. It’s just because of the power of music.” 

“In the film, [we point out] that music has no color. I think that began very much with doo-wop and, if you go back to the Ink Spots and some of those groups in ‘40s, they’re trying to sound ‘white’. That was their hook. We’re not going to sound threatening and we’re going to do this kind of smooth Bing Crosby sound. Then, as we got into the Orioles, which we talk about in the film, and that first kind of earthy sound where they were doing Ink Spot-type of music and harmonies, but they weren’t going to sound ‘white’ anymore. Once you start to do that and audiences are listening on the radio, I think then [people] began to ask [themselves], ‘Well, if I like their music, why do I have to hate these people? What is it that’s making me dislike something or someone who’s generating something that I like so much?’ I think that’s what makes music the great equalizer is that it just forces you to ask yourself that question…” 

In fact, Wilson even suggests that music has such a powerful impact that one could draw a direct line between the rise of doo-wop and the beginnings of the civil rights movement.

“This was I think the first music to really do that,” he says. “That’s at the heart of this film is here we are in ’54-’56 and rock and roll was certainly starting to happen. You had the blues. You had Howling Wolf’s and things like that, but they were forbidden. It was absolutely on the black radio stations and there was no crossover. But now we began to have crossover and now you began to kind of seep into the white home. I think once that started to happen, it really did open up a door that led to civil rights. One of the things that I am most proud of what the film is that we shine a light on the impact and power of hearing ‘In The Still Of The Night’ and what that must have meant to the thirteen-year-old girl or boy in love in Indianapolis or from the middle of the country, pointing out that that was a black artist that wrote that song and thinking maybe I don’t have to think the same way that my parents do. I think that’s what music does at its best as it just makes us think. It makes us question the status quo.”

Considering the music’s impact upon tearing down social barriers, it comes as little surprise that music itself is often perceived as a ‘threat’ to the dominant culture. With this in mind, Wilson believes that much of the perceived threat stems from music’s ability to cut straight to the heart.

“It happens in every generation,” he clarifies. “The very first rock and roll riot was in 1955 in Asbury park with Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers… You get it again a little bit later with the Beatles and their long hair and even the late ‘60s and early ‘70s with the Rolling Stones and the Who smashing their guitars. You get into the ‘80s and Madonna and ascending the church and the Pope coming out against her. Then you get into thick heavy metal there and Tipper Gore testifying before Congress, saying ‘We’ve got to save our children.’ Look at what happens with hip hop and Eminem. Music is always a threat because it’s a direct line to a young person’s heart. When you hear that song, whether it’s Bob Dylan or Eminem or whoever the case may be, and you just say, ‘Holy heck, nobody can speak to me like that person. Nobody understands me like that person.’ It’s such a powerful, powerful moment and you become hooked. It can transform your thinking. I don’t think there’s any other form of art in the 20th Century that has that direct connection to the heart, like popular music does.”

“It’s never been the threat that everybody thinks it is but, at the time, you think it’s just the end all be all… Now it just kinda seems kind of silly to think that that’s such a threat. Right? But it does. I think, as a parent, you [say] nobody’s getting to my kid anymore. They’re only listening to X or Y or Z. But, it’s a direct line to the heart and I think will always will be.”

Having said this, Wilson also contends that the perfect song is indeed much more of a subjective experience where the listener feels directly connected to the artist through the music and lyrics.

“[I think that a great song] is one that I think speaks to you [in] that moment where you think [it] was written specifically for [you],” he feels. “[You say] I don’t know who this person is or who this artist is, but clearly they got inside of my head and they wrote that song specifically for me. You think there’s nobody else in the world that will understand that song the way you do. When you’re hearing that song in your car, or maybe you’re at home at night in the bedroom and got your headphones on or wherever the case may be, there is a moment where you just think to yourself, how did this person get in my soul? How did this artist do that? How do they understand the way I feel? That, to me, is always a great song… I think that’s what great art does. [It] evokes emotion. That emotion can be anger, joy, pride, identification, whatever it may be. But if it’s evoking an emotion, then I think you’ve got a great song.”

For full audio of our interview with director Brent Wilson, click here.

Streetlight Harmonies is available on demand now.

5.22 A Day in the Life of YESTERDAY

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In Danny Boyle’s YESTERDAY, it’s just another day in the life for struggling musician Jack Malik (Himesh Patel)… until he’s suddenly hit by a car. With a little help from his friends, Jack wakes up to discover that he is the only person left alive that remembers the music of the Beatles. Realizing that this music is his ticket to ride, Jack’s fame increases to global proportions… but will this paperback writer be revealed as a fraud? Or will he be able to let it be? This week, Steve, ScreenFish’r Shelley McVea and musician Dave Frazee come together to talk about whether the world really is better off with the music of the Beatles and what Jack really did wrong.

You can also stream the episode above on podomatic, Alexa (via Stitcher), Spotify or Soundcloud! Or, you can download the ep on Apple Podcasts or Google Play!

Want to continue to conversation at home?  Click the link below to download ‘Fishing for More’ — some small group questions for you to bring to those in your area.

5.22 YesterdayDownload

Slamdance Film Festival – Day 3

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Since most of the films (exceptions: Boni Bonita and This Teacher) I’m reporting on today are docs, I’d like to highlight some documentary filmmakers who have premiered work at Slamdance: Marilyn Agrelo (Mad Hot Ballroom), Seth Gordon, (King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters), Kurt Kuenne (Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father), and Dana Nachman (Batkid Begins). The festival continues to nurture filmmakers, including in the documentary field.

Movies can be a time machine. Memphis ’69 takes us back fifty years to the Memphis Blues Festival. The local blues society put on a festival each year from 1964-69. Gene Rosenthal, a Maryland-based enthusiast brought camera and recording equipment to capture the three-day event. But processing the 40,000 feet of film used up all his money. It sat unseen for almost fifty years until he was selling his archives to Fat Possum Records and director/editor Joe LaMattina, who now brings us this look back to a festival the same year as the famed Woodstock festival, but with a much different vibe. It shows us a good bit of the spirit of the time, but mostly it is a celebration of the music—mostly traditional blues with musicians like Piano Red, Nathan Beauregard (106 at the time of the festival), Furry Lewis, John D. Loudermilk, and Rev. Robert Wilkins and Family; but also showing the influence the blues brought to rock with acts like Molock and Johnny Winter, and the Sunday Gospel program.

Another doc focused on music is Dons of Disco from director Jonathan Sutak. In the 1980s Den Harrow was an American-born star of Italo Disco in Europe—possible more popular than Michael Jackson. He was blond, handsome, had great stage presence. Girls couldn’t get enough of him or his wonderful voice. Except…it wasn’t his voice. And he wasn’t American and didn’t even speak English. Dem Harrow was the creation of record producers who wanted to have a great act. Den Harrow is close to the Italian word for money—and that’s what he represents. The real voice belonged to a singer named Tom Hooker (who also co-wrote all the songs along with Miki Chieregato). Years later, Hooker (now named Tom Barbèy) is a photographer living in Las Vegas, but beginning to seek recognition for his musical work. As the film plays out, questions arise about what it means to make art. Is the writer and singer more of an artist than a lip-syncer who is the face of the music for all of the fans? Is image a part of what makes art complete? It is at times strange to hear the justifications made by Stefano Zandri (who became Den Harrow) of why he is the real Den Harrow even if the persona is based in falsehood. (It is at times not unlike the justifications one hears from Donald Trump.) The truth of the situation is obvious, but why is it that the truth itself is never enough?

Daniel Barosa’s Boni Bonita traces a relationship over nine years in four chapters. Sixteen year-old Beatriz, who was recently expelled from school and kicked out of her father’s house, connects with Rogério, an older musician. The relationship is at times very inappropriate—fueled by lust and jealousy. This coming-of-age story is a story of pain not being dealt with properly, which lead the two to hurt each other in various ways, but also perhaps the tools each needs to grow a bit. But we are given the impression that as much as the two mean to each other, they can never find happiness together, and perhaps are doomed to lives of coldness and emptiness because of their history.

A ruined vacation leads a woman to what is perhaps a divine revelation in Mark Jackson’s This Teacher. Hafsia, a French-Arab woman, comes to New York to have a reunion with her childhood friend Zahra (now going by Sarah). The reunion does not go well, and Hafsia uses Sarah’s AirB&B account to rent a remote cabin upstate. After a sleepless night, she has what could be a bit of a breakdown, or it might be a discovery of God speaking to her. She begins to see a world without borders, where we are all the same, where love flows freely. But when, during an alcohol-fueled evening (Hafsia’s first time to drink), others discover she is Muslim, she is confronted with the Islamophobia. She does not respond well, which makes it build to a dangerous point. It is interesting to watch how the filmmaker brings her new spiritual awareness into a setting that may contradict that revelation, and in the end allows her to affirm who she is in her new vision of the world.

Does extinction diminish the world? I tend to think so, especially when that extinction is not a result of nature. Kifaru, from documentarian David Hambridge, tells the story of the last of the Northern White Rhinos and their caretakers in a Kenya preserve. There are only three: Sudan, the last male; Najin, his daughter; and Fata, his granddaughter. Over a four year period, Hambridge shows us the commitment and care of three of the rangers who protect and care for the last few animals. And we see the sorrow, when Sudan, after a life far past life expectancy, dies, effectively making the species extinct. The real focus of the story is the rangers who spend ten months a year away from their families. They form a bond with these rhinos. They also know that their mission is one that is ultimately hopeless. The extinction is just a matter of time. Although there are other species of rhinos around, the film notes at the present rate, all rhinos will be extinct in ten years.

Slamdance also features shorts. One that I’ve been able to screen is Tungrus and the Chicken From Hell. This documentary short is about a middle class family in Mumbai with a chicken in their apartment. The father thought a chick might be a fun thing for the cats to play with. Six months later the rooster now terrorizes the whole family. They know the answer is that the chicken has to go. But will it be given to someone else, or become their dinner?

5.02 Messy Celebrities in A STAR IS BORN

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With A STAR IS BORN, Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga have (re)created a timeless love story for modern times. Exploring the relationship between love and mental health (with an amazing soundtrack as well), the film is clearly gearing up for a run at next year’s Oscars. This week, Steve welcomes back Shelley McVea and Andrew Eaton to talk about love, celebrity and music with soul.

Want to continue to conversation at home?  Click the link below to download ‘Fishing for More’ — some small group questions for you to bring to those in your area.

5.02 A Star is Born

Thanks Shelley and Andrew for joining us!

Melting the Tin Man’s Heart: 1on1 with Terrell Carter

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In FOX’s epic series Empire, power is everything. Now in its fourth season, Empire continues to tell distinct stories and creating unique characters that break stereotypes in the genre. Following the lives of the Lyon family, the show continues to tackle a wide variety of social issues while also offering some of the finest music on television in the process. As series newcomer Terrell Carter indicates, the chance to join a show with such rare sensibilities was simply too good to pass up.

“I was able to play a role that wasn’t a traditional gay character. It also was the music. Music is my first love and, although he’s a civil rights attorney, he’s a singer also. He wants to be a singer. So, being able to play a character who’s a singer that’s also not traditional and also the nephew of Phylicia Rashad: all of those things add up to the role of a lifetime for me. Everybody on this show is amazing but Phylicia was one of my favourites.”

In addition to the appeal of working on such an incredible show, it was the opportunity to work with Phylicia Rashad that proved to be the clinching factor in his decision.

“The excitement about working with Phylicia Rashad isn’t just that she was The Cosby Show’s mother,” he reflects. “For me, growing up the way that I did… what Phylicia Rashad represented to me was something that I had never seen before. I’d never seen people live like that. It wasn’t just black or white, because, at that time, I was never thought about [that type of] separation and division, which is why it blows my mind right now. I just never thought things about it like that. I told her on the first day, that [she was] a hero to me because [she] gave me an idea that there was something else—another life—and [she] put the idea in my head that I could do something like this. [She’s] more than just an amazing actress for me in the black world. To work with her, to see that she’s gracious, beautiful, hilarious and wraps you up in all of this love but yet, at the same time, is like a queen [who is] graceful and amazing. To me, being able to work on a show like this with her, that’s a treat in itself. I couldn’t ask for anything better. [There are] all the other amazing actors on this show, but for her, it was someone who was a representation of something for all of us.”

In this season of Empire, Carter plays Warren, a relative to Rashad’s maniacal Diana Dubois who is hell-bent on destroying the Lyon family. Playing a key role in her plot, Warren is tasked with seducing young Jamal Lyon (Jussie Smollett), in an effort to put a wedge in the family unit. Nevertheless, as their relationship develops, Carter says that Warren has become conflicted.

“Warren is a pawn for Phylicia Rashad’s character, [Diana Dubois],” he says. “Warren is a little bit different than the rest of members of the Dubois family, actually. Warren has a little bit of a conscience. From the very beginning, he was kind of excommunicated and his father has kind of done things to be pushed away from the family. He kind of says yes to do this whole mission because of that situation. Kind of like a Kennedy who wants to be back in the family because your father is the one who got thrown out. So, he says yes to her before he realizes what it actually all entails. If you watch the first episode, and Diana Dubois is lying on the table, she looks at him and says she wants to pick the meat off of their bones… He kind of looks at her and says “Wow”. I don’t think it was that deep for him. I think he was just more interested in becoming a part of the family so he has a heart.”

“In his relationship with Jamal, Jamal is one of the few Lyon family members that always seems to have a heart and it just really the nicest one. So, Warren is just a guy who’s sort of guided himself into a position where he has bitten off more than he can chew, even with his own family. He’s trying to figure out whether or not blood is thicker than love or water. He’s always wanted to be a singer and, even those he’s in a position where this is a guy he’s supposed to take down, this is a guy who’s showing him things he’s always wanted to see. I think Warren is a bit torn or shaken to say ‘Wait a minute now. What am I doing?’”

Of course, one might assume that it would be intimidating to step onto the set with a cast that’s been so well established. However, Carter’s previous relationship with series regular Jessie Smullet helped make his entry onto the team much easier.

EMPIRE: Pictured L-R: Terrel Carter and Jussie Smollett in the “Evil Manners” episode of EMPIRE airing Wednesday, Oct. 11 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT) on FOX. ©2017 Fox Broadcasting Co. CR: Jean Whiteside/FOX

“The good thing was that I already knew Jussie Smollett prior to coming. So, it was good to know someone who was part of the original cast who can sort of show you the ropes. I think that, although this was a breakout role for me, it was a role I was ready for. It was challenging, like the first day of school, for the first day or so but this was something that I’ve been preparing for so long that I was at the point where I was just excited and happy to be a part of it.”

It’s important to note, however, that Empire’s legacy extends far beyond its all-star cast and outstanding music. According to Carter, the true importance of Empire lies in its multi-dimensional portrayal of African Americans in a variety of roles.

“I think Empire is not only showing African Americans in a different light,” he argues. “It shows them in a light of power and especially with what’s going on politically and in society, it’s not just [about] African American characters. It’s talking about a lot of other social issues. The gay characters are not the traditional gay characters. There are different situations and scenarios, but, yet, at the same time, they’re still showing things that happen in the ‘hood’. They’re taking that to a different level. In Empire, they’re dealing with different issues that haven’t been dealt with in a long time in different ways. You have an all pretty much black cast (like in The Cosby Show, The Jeffersons) but that was a long time ago. This is a powerful show along with all this original music and [wraps] all of this stuff up into one.”

Given that a key theme of the show is the nature of power, Carter also asserts that power manifest itself in different ways. When asked what he thinks his character would say about power, Carter believes that Warren would argue that it relates to control.

“[Warren] would look at it from a number of different ways,” he begins. “He would say Diana Dubois. He’s torn with the same thing. Power for him would be looking at the matriarch of his family. She speaks and we all listen. But yet, at the same time, he looks at Jamal and I think he’d say the power of love and the heart. Power moves people. I think that Warren would say that, when people use the word ‘power’, it usually comes in the form of something mean or evil but not necessarily. Power is just getting people to get people to do what you want them to do by just being and saying who you are. It’s having the power over people. Jamal isn’t saying anything except adoring and loving him but, at the same time, it’s moving him to do something different than what he wants to do. He can’t help it… and that’s what power is. I think he’d say that power is just getting people to do what you want them to do when they’re powerless to just say no.”

While he thoroughly enjoys acting, it is music that is Carter’s first love, a talent that serves him well on a show like Empire. Having recorded several independent albums, he believes that music unlocks the key to his soul in a way that he could never do otherwise.

EMPIRE: Pictured L-R: Terrell Carter and guest star Phylicia Rashad in the “Noble Memory” episode of EMPIRE premiering Wednesday, Sept. 27 (8:00-9:00 PM ET/PT) on FOX. ©2017 Fox Broadcasting Co. CR: Chuck Hodes/FOX

“Everything that I do, when it comes to acting, writing, comes back to music,” he muses. “Music is such a passion because it was a way for me, even as a kid to express myself. All of the things that I couldn’t say to someone in a conversation, I could sing it. Then, I learned to do it in a way that people loved how it sounds but I could write the things that are in my heart. So, music is a passion for me because it’s a way for me to express myself comfortably when I wasn’t comfortable in any other aspects in my life.”

Throughout his journey to success, Carter and his family have fought against numerous challenges that have caused them to struggle emotionally. As a result, he has also started to write a memoir that tells his story in a way he hopes will inspire others.

According to Carter, “I’m writing a book about my life story but it’s more about from a motivational standpoint. It’s for everyone who are dealing with the things. It’s about my mom. My story is that, my mom was 10 years old and she was raped by my dad who was 23-year-old who was from the same family. She was mentally retarded. All of her organs were supposed to fail. So, I was kind of this baby who just didn’t have this connection growing up and just dealing with all of that. And becoming this guy who ends up on this number one show. It’s not about ‘this is what I did’, it’s more about the journey. The book takes you on the at roller coaster ride.”

With Empire returning from its brief hiatus, Carter suggests that Warren is soon heading towards a crossroads in his relationships within the show, potentially having to choose between his love for Jamal and his loyalty to Diana Dubois.

“In the last episode, you could see on his face that there is some type of unsettled about the entire thing,” he hints. “When that comes in, the direct orders of Diana Dubois aren’t so easily delivered. Now, she is not the type of woman that you toy with. She is like the Godfather in so many ways. She doesn’t have to raise her voice and she has no loyalty to anyone. So, if you do that and don’t do what she wants, what is she going to do?”

Empire returns this Wednesday night at 9pm on FOX.

To stream our full interview with Terrell, click below.

 

Terrell Carter image credited to Eric Hobbs

The Passion of Augustine – When Times Were A-Changin’

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“Modernity is killing me.”

The 1960s were a time of momentous change. We remember much of the social upheaval, but we often forget what major shifts happened in the church. As a bishop says in The Passion of Augustine, “Everything is moving too fast. Modernism is attacking us on all fronts: Vatican II, loss of faith, fewer vocations, and worst of all: the Ministry of Education . . .. Prepare for the worst.” The pressures of the changes play out within a small convent school in Quebec.

Mother Augustine (Céline Bonnier) heads the Sacred Heart Convent and the school for girls that specializes in music training. It is a very regimented life—both for the nuns and the students. The school often turns out winners in the provincial music contest. But things may change. The government wants to take over education, and the convent schools may have to close. Augustine battles with her superior over the convent. And then Augustine’s niece Alice (Lysandre Ménard) is brought to the school because her mother must leave. Alice is a gifted pianist, but is disruptive. Alice brings a bit of the social changes of the outside world into the convent. She also brings change into Augustine’s relationships.

At the same time, the church and convent are going through changes brought on by Vatican II (the 1962-65 Ecumenical Council of Catholic Bishops that brought major revolutions to the Church). At the beginning of the film we see a bit of a Latin mass. At just about the midpoint there is a folk mass. The shift is startling—and more than a bit jarring for those who have built their lives around the church. When the time comes for the nuns to abandon their old habits and vails, we see that it is a painful and emotional time for them. Not just because of the clothes, but because the security of their chosen life was being stripped away. How shocking and even distressing it must have been for them to go from dressing “like 18th century widows” (as one of the nuns put it) to airline stewardesses.

But this is also a very personal trial for Augustine. It is not just the changes around her, but the changes within her as well. We see glimpses of her past that show us she was not always a pious nun. And in her struggles with the church hierarchy, she must choose how she is going to best fulfil her gifts.

Change often brings a feeling of chaos. But that chaos often soon becomes the new established order. The changes from Vatican II were not easily embraced by some in the Catholic Church. In all churches the prospect of change can lead to dissension. (How many church board members does it take to change a light bulb? CHANGE?) Everything around us seems to be in a state of constant flux. We may rely on what we think are foundational institutions like the church to keep us grounded. But like everything else, those too undergo change. It is good to remember that often God can work through those changes to continue to fill the world and our lives with God’s love.

I first saw the film at the Newport Beach Film Festival two years ago. At NBFF it won five jury prizes: Best Feature Film, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actress, Best Director, and Best Screenplay. I don’t know if it ever got a non-festival release in the US, but now it is becoming available on VOD. I’m happy to have the chance to revisit this story of the struggles of faith in a changing world.

Photos courtesy of Under the Milky Way

Serenading Haiti – An Interview with Father Cesar

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Directed by the award-winning documentary filmmaker Owsley Brown (Night Waltz: The Music of Paul Bowles; Music Makes a City), Serenade for Haiti (Serenad pou Ayiti) reveals a side of the country that is often misunderstood by the rest of the world. By focusing its lens on Father Cesar and his dedicated staff at Sainte Trinite Music School, this documentary reveals the burgeoning artistic side of the children of Haiti and their commitment to hope. Raised on the grounds of Sainte Trinite, Father Cesar has fond memories of his early childhood at the music school.

“My mother was a teacher at the Elementary School,” he remembers. “So I was always at Sainte Trinite.  The director of the school—she was my godmother.  I was in her office all the time, with her kids.  I went to Sainte Trinite to study and started with music [when I was] two years old.  It was the beginning of a long journey.”

Having grown up in the school, it is not unexpected that Father Cesar would be so passionate about music.  However, what one might find surprising is that his passion for music stems from its impact on the lives of the children themselves.  In fact, he believes that the gift of music offers hope to children that they might not find elsewhere.

“I use myself as an example,” he begins. “If it didn’t have Sainte Trinite to play music, I could be on the streets.  Music gave me the confidence to meet other people, to work with other people, to work in harmony and discipline.  It’s what the music does.”

“Music is so important for Haitians.  It is a part of our lives.  When we are happy, we sing.  When we are sad, we sing.  We dance.  It’s a part of our lives.  Music will never stop.  Whatever the situation.”

Of course, when most North Americans think of Haiti, they immediately associate the country with the devastating earthquake that struck in January 2010, leaving millions in poverty.  Originally titled the Sainte Trinite School Complex, the music school also once housed an elementary and trade school as well. With a heavy heart, Father Cesar is saddened by the many ways in which that day changed their lives.

“I can remember that day…,” Father Cesar recalls.  “It was very difficult for us because we had just spent $3.5 Million for infrastructure for the school… and we lost all of that during the earthquake.  During the earthquake, 50 people were at the music school and 2 people died.  We didn’t know how we’d get out, if we got out.  We would have died.  Three days afterwards, you could hear voices trapped in the rubble in the trade school [that is associated with Sainte Trinite].  We could not say how many people died at the trade school.  Could be 200.  Could be 300… We lost also instruments and the only music hall of the whole country.  We lost everything.”

With this in mind, he also believes that films like Serenade for Haiti can help provide a fresh perspective of hope within Haitian culture, not only to their own people but to the world as well.  To him, the musical heart of the culture is essential to the nation’s healing, and creating a more positive image to those around the globe.

“This is what this film can show.  What we did before the earthquake, the challenges afterward.  And this is what this film can show—how music can make a difference… and to show what we are doing.”

Says Father Cesar, “Many people are shocked that, after the earthquake, we got together three days later with the teachers and I said, ‘We have to do something because now our people needs us as musicians.’ So, we started to play in different cities.  After the earthquake, we used the music as a kind of therapy for our people and, at the same time, as I said to our teachers, this is what we can do.  This is what we can bring to our people.  This is what we can give… We try to find talent and to have the music in different schools… and to show another image of Haiti to the culture through music.”

Most importantly, however, he may actually be seeing the results of his hard work as well.  By passionately pursuing the healing power of music within his culture, Father Cesar has witnessed interest in the school explode in recent years, as people search for hope in a time of challenge and change.

“[Since the earthquake], we have more people asking to be a part of the music school…  We have had challenges with the lack of instruments and space since the earthquake.  It is a challenging time and a transition time.  Everyone accepts the situation and we try to focus on the music.”

In doing so, Father Cesar and his dedicated team continue to show that, not only is there hope in the midst of strife, they also make beautiful music together.

 

Serenade for Haiti is currently touring the festival circuit.

so i’m so sad after seeing Father John Misty sing on SNL

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so i’m so sad
after seeing
Father John Misty sing
on SNL

he sang two songs,
but the one he sung that so
got.
me.
was “Pure Comedy”

see here:

( for both performances,
with lyrics
(which i’ll refer to below)
and editorializing,
see “Father John Misty Questions Virtual Reality And Religion on ‘Saturday Night Live'” )

so why so sad?

first let me say:
my reaction
reminds me of
that i had
when reading and
writing about
(the so excellent
and amazing book)
House of Leaves
(see said react here)

both Misty’s song
and that book
are in similar vein,
saying similar things,
and even in similar strain,
format-wise
(experimental, sprawling)

so, saying what?
exactly?

something like
what one might say
if one tried to say
the interlocking gist of
a whole twisted mass of
a certain set of
“isms” all at once:
relativism/deconstructionism/
postmodernism/materialism/
naturalism/nihilism/
atheism/secularism/
existentialism/humanism

tldr version:
God is dead.
So now what?

House of Leaves
says it like this,
with this metaphor
where the world’s a
groundless tree:

Y g g
d
r
a
s
i
l

What miracle is this? This giant tree.
It stands ten thousand feet high
But doesn’t reach the ground. Still it stands.
Its roots must hold the sky.

“Pure Comedy”
sums our situation like this,
with its quiet,
out-of-the-cacophany
coda:

Just random matter suspended in the dark

I hate to say it, but each other’s all we got

so is that why
i’m so sad
after seeing
Father John Misty sing
on SNL?

cuz he sang so of
all them -isms?

nah.

i’m so sad cuz
“Pure Comedy,”
ironically
(intentionally),
is a sad song

it’s artful
and soulful
and beautiful
and musically adventurous
and plenty accurate
and justifiably biting
and eminently understandable
and relatable in its perspective,
but it’s darkly,
ironically, intentionally,
undeniably sad –
not a “pure comedy”
in the
story-where-things-
work-out-in-the-end sense;
that purer, older,
original meaning
of “comedy;”
but in the bitter, dark
“…comedy…it’s like something that a madman would conceive!”
sense

so i’m so sad
cuz the song‘s so sad

and
i’m so sad
cuz Father John Misty hisself
is so sad about said so sad song

how do i know?

go back and watch
the performance;
it is the performance
of a man who knows
that what he says is –
however clever,
regardless of its
apropos and earnest delivery –
bleak and hopeless
and ultimately sad

and why is he sad
about it?

cuz, assumedly,
presumably,
he thinks the
song he sings is
also so –
that it is true
(whatever that even means)

it is the lyric of a man
a quick Googling
reveals was raised a Christian,
but who now faux-mocks Jesus as a
“risen zombie,” son of a
“celestial virgin,” as the song says –
a man who now sees humans
not as “special” beings,
not as “created in God’s image,”
but as “godless animals,”
“…random matter suspended in the dark.”

and so i’m so sad
cuz the song‘s so sad,
and cuz he‘s so sad,
cuz he thinks the song’s so

finally,
lastly,
mostly,
i’m so sad cuz
the failed-palliative status of
“I hate to say it, but each other’s all we got”
is so apparent,
yet still, apparently –
if you take
Father John Misty at his word –
is a perspective that’s
supposed to be embraced

the fact that he
even offers a
palliative at that point
is instructive, isn’t it?
it’s interesting that
softening the blow
is intuitive to him
at that moment,
isn’t it?

regardless,
he does offer it,
though he “hate[s] to say it,”
and concludes,
leaving us to feel . . .
sad.
so sad.
so understandably sad.
like him.

so that’s why
i’m so sad
after seeing
Father John Misty sing
on SNL:
sad cuz the song,
sad cuz he’s sad,
sad cuz it‘s sad
that he has
seemingly knowingly owned
the problem of
groundless trees
and “random matter”

the problem of:
God is dead.
So now what?

the problem he has no
fix for,
though he
grudgingly offers
an already-failed one

the problem,
in the end,
there is no fix for,
unless you just
deny it altogether,
and rediscover –
reimagine –
that purer, older,
original meaning
of “comedy”