 Off the Charts: The Song-Poem Story (2003) The film was created as a PBS "Independent Lens" documentary, so it doesn't get too deep into the murky song-poem waters. At 50 minutes, it's just the right length to be satisfying in an NPR-report sort of way. Song-poem aficionados, though, will find it to be kind of cursory and a little preening, even while enjoying seeing this neglected little genre given some screen time. Appreciation of song-poem records is nothing new, and it's become one of the more annoying line items on the musical-hipster checklist over the past few years, having broken wide open with the release of the Rodd Keith CD I Died Today. That disc brought what was a strictly underground passion to a significantly more mainstream underground passion; Off the Charts builds on this and elevates song-poems squarely into the mainstream. It's the kind of film that could connect to the Leno crowd, nicely packaging a strange thing in the gentlest possible way, and winking a lot at the audience to let them know it's okay to hear this music as "so bad it's good." So opinion will be divided on the ultimate usefulness of this film, as it endeavors to cater to both a protective and self-satisfied audience of hipsters who want to keep song-poems all to themselves, and an audience who has never heard of song-poems, but might find the whole thing amusing. To Jamie Meltzer's credit, he mostly veers away from the temptation to poke fun at song-poems (and specifically, at the creators of song-poems), and settles on a tone that would befit, like, a guided-tour video at some theoretical Song-Poem Museum. Where Off the Charts really wins is in its identification of the compulsion to make music. The people who compose lyrics for song-poems usually have no musical skill and no access to equipment with which they might record a song. The producers who write song-poem music are folks who do have talent, but not the sort of talent that would ever result in a genuine hit song. So, the confluence of these personalities represents this sort of dream that everyone seems to harbor somewhere deep down: to write a song! Meltzer presents a few examples of the colorful characters who submit lyrics (and pay $250) to have their song turned into a record: Caglar, an exuberant and perhaps somewhat retarded black nerd, who channels his interest in martial arts, religion, science-fiction, and famous historical women into songs … sometimes all in the same song. Admittedly, his shit is hilarious ("Non-Violent Taekwando Troopers," "Annie Oakley"), but it's his satisfaction with having (in his mind) made a record that allows us to share in his happiness instead of merely laughing at him. Though the song-poem world is glutted with insane and baffling songs, Meltzer chooses to focus on folks who are totally sincere about their art. Gary Forney, a nerdy older hippie-type dude, contributes the rambling "Caravan," which is neither funny nor particularly notable, and he's utterly serious when he talks about his music. It's a little sad to watch him phone a Danish DJ whom he mistakenly believes has been playing his song with great frequency, or to struggle with insecurities about performing live (in front of about a dozen people at a park). The harsh realities of the music industry are kept at bay with a gigantic fortress of denial. Another writer, Van Garner, is actually pretty good, which illuminates the point that there are plenty of people out there who might have been hit songwriters, had their circumstances been any different. Garner's song "Nighttime Whispers" is performed by song-poem producer Ramsey Kearney, who manages to give it the perfect melancholy and some great chords, despite being on total auto-pilot while writing it. Meltzer introduces us to a few others on the production end of song-poems, including Art Kaufman (aka David Fox) who, as the camera rolls, cranks out a song-poem, from initial reading of lyrics to finished production, in 48 minutes! Gene Merlino, a former vocalist with the Anita Kerr Singers in the 60s, brings his showbiz "legend" status to a career as the "king of the demo singers" – he claims to have done sessions where they knocked out upwards of 90 songs in 4 hours! Merlino is also a Sinatra-esque bastard in the studio, berating his guitarist and insisting on everything being done his way. That particular scene seems falsified, though if it's true, it's funny to think of this peripheral, completely minor showbiz figure having such a Napoleonic ego. But there are enough faked moments in the film to call some of this drama into question – as in a scene where Merlino and his band run through a song-poem called "I Am a Ginseng Digger," playing it like they're seeing it for the first time, when in fact that song is a noted song-poem "classic." But what documentary doesn't fake some shit to punch things up, you know? Expert testimonials from Ellery Eskelin (son of Rodd Keith) and Tom Ardolino (NRBQ member who is considered one of the pioneers in disseminating song-poems in the hipster world) offer context, history, and appreciation, lending needed credence so that the audience understands that people do, in fact, live and breathe song-poems. Sadly, in both cases, Eskelin's and Ardolino's rooms look almost exactly like mine. *Sigh* Off the Charts isn't the be-all, end-all movie about song-poems; it glosses over a lot of good stuff in favor of jsut presenting a clear and loving introduction. One day someone will have to do a great biopic of Rodd Keith – something on the grandiose and indulgent scale of Oliver Stone's The Doors – to truly do this world justice. Or, alternately, maybe someone should try to make 90 movies in 4 hours for the cinematic equivalent of song-poems … script-movies???
Review by La Fée |