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| PI ONLINE: 8-15-03 | ||||||
| The
Setting Sun BY BEN WINTERS
Bob
Hope was the most-covered cultural celebrity death of the last couple
news cycles, and with good reason: The 100-year-old comedian was, as
David Zurawik wrote in the Baltimore Sun, 'the nation's entertainer
laureate.' Zarewik quotes Johnny Carson lavishing yet more expansive
praise: 'Bob Hope was the best loved, most admired and most successful
entertainer in all of history.' An arguable point, but who's going to
argue? Hope was a partner in inventing much of what we know as American
comedy, from the 'opening monologue' to the buddy picture to the winning
use of self-deprecation. His TV specials started with a chorus singing
'Here's the star of the show tonight, with lots of jokes and sayings
bright. His nose is shaped like a periscope, and here's Bob Hope.'
Hope's
death certainly deserved all the coverage it got, but it should not
have overshadowed another legend's recent demise. Sam Phillips, whose
effect on music was very possibly equal to Hope's on comedy, passed
away on July 30 at the age of 80. Phillips was the founder and proprietor
of Memphis' legendary Sun Studios. As the Newhouse News Service headline
had it, 'Sam Phillips Oversaw a Revolution, and Elvis Was Its King.'
And the Phillips Revolution wasn't just about music, although it certainly
was that; he's considered to have recorded the first real 'rock' record,
'Rocket 88' by Jackie Brenston and Ike Turner. But
'the revolution [Phillips] oversaw, and that Elvis dominated,' wrote
Delia M. Rios for Newhouse, 'transformed not only what we played on
our radios, but our clothes, language, politics, race relations and
even our sexuality.' Elvis' embrace of African-American musical traditions
(what was then known as race music) was matched by Phillips' love of
those same styles, an enthusiasm that can't be denied'even by those
who focus on the cynical aspect. In
his Rolling Stone obit, Andrew Dansby writes that 'Phillips' lore has
the producer telling confidantes that he was seeking a white singer
with a black sound, thinking such a pairing of elements would make him
a million dollars.' What it actually made him was $35,000, which Phillips
plowed back into Sun Records; the label went on to produce more rock
and country legends, like Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash. Phillips,
Dansby notes, was one of only nine artists who've been inducted into
both the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Country Music Hall of Fame.
The others, for the record, are Jimmie Rodgers, Hank Williams, Johnny
Cash, Elvis Presley, the Everly Brothers, Bob Wills, Chet Atkins and
Bill Monroe.
Being
and Artist Not Risky Enough for You? 'Although
the precise cause is unclear, a study of thousands of former students
of Glasgow University found that arts and law students were most likely
to die early.' That was the encouraging health news from the BBC on
July 31, which further notes that 'Arts students were most likely to
die from lung cancer or other forms of respiratory disease,' although
students of medicine 'were more likely to die as a result of accidents,
suicide and violence.' Possible
reasons for the tendency for artistic types to die earlier include,
A) where art students come from ('Arts students were more likely to
have experienced socioeconomic deprivation in childhood') and, B) how
they end up living: foolishly. 'It could simply be the case that the
'arts' culture was more likely to result in a student who smoked.' On
a similar note, Leonard Jacobs, writing in Backstage on July 30, cleared
up a little bit of confusion vis a vis New York's tough new anti-smoking
law, and how it relates to the theatrical community. 'New York State's
new Clean Indoor Air Act, which prohibits smoking in virtually every
public workplace, will apparently also apply to smoking by actors on
stage as well.' Things
aren't as a bad as they appear, though, if you do plan to put on Tennessee
Williams' Summer and Smoke. 'Contrary to press reports,' Jacobs continues,
'the anti-smoking law does not mean that actors will be forced, under
the threat of a civil penalty or worse, to use herbal cigarettes in
scenes in which they must smoke on stage.' Producers will still be able,
as they were under the previous laws, to apply to the City for a waiver
if they want their Smokey Joe's Café to remain smokey. Jacobs
then contends that the Clean Air Act, as applied in the theatre, creates
the potential for a Constitutional crisis. 'If a performance artist,
for example, wished to create a work in which he or she smokes a cigarette
onstage, would the Clean Indoor Air Act, in effect, be violating that
artist's First Amendment rights?' As
long as actors can still smoke in the alley at intermission while they
bitch about the stage manager, I think the Republic will be safe.
As
Stiffler Would Say, 'Who's your daddy?'
Many
of the reviews of American Wedding, the third'and supposedly last'in
the American Pie franchise, don't mention who the director's father
is. Those who do mention it sort of offhandedly, because it's sort of
hard to know what to say: At the helm of the latest silly sickout comedy
is the son of the great rock-folk poet of the late 20th century. Mick
LaSalle plays it cool in the San Francisco Chronicle: 'Director Jesse
Dylan (Bob's son, by the way) either allows or (unfathomably) encourages
Scott to play Stifler as a veritable freak'' Ditto Michael Machosky
at the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review. 'Often, first-time director Jesse
Dylan (son of Bob Dylan) will throw in a close-up shot of the gag for
good measure, just to make sure that you get what's supposed to be funny
about it.' (Machosky is wrong, by the way'Jesse Dylan isn't a first
time director. He debuted in 2001 with How High, starring Method Man.) Only Mike Clark, in USA Today, reaches for a Dylan-related pun in his review of the film. 'Taking his motivational cue from director Dylan's daddy Bob, walking libido Steve lives only to 'lay lady lay.'' Get it? That character likes sex. Dylan, Senior must be so proud.
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