The Post-Rockist

As the final image of a seventy-year old austere Leonard Cohen fades to black and the credits commence, the viewer is confronted with a credit that reveals Mel Gibson to be the executive producer of this film. No wonder there were a few unwarranted shadow images of Jesus on the cross, too many discussions of the Biblical and the Christian elements of Cohen’s music (although certainly they are there). At least at one point the director allows Cohen to announce that he is a Jew, a fact that is essential to understanding the poet-songwriter. I guess I do have to give Gibson some credit: He loves the music of Cohen so much that he would fund a sub-par film about a man whose ancestors killed Gibson’s Savior.

That aside, the film is a must see for any Cohen fan, although I might suggest you wait for the DVD version to hit the shelves of Netflix (do they have shelves at Netflix?). The DVD will probably include bonus features and, I can only hope, more interview footage with Cohen. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect upon entering the theatre. I had read that much of the film consisted of a tribute concert staged in Sidney, Australia in January 2005, featuring artists such as Nick Cave, Rufus Wainwright, Martha Wainwright, Beth Orton, and others. That was in there. I also heard that the film would outline the basic facts of Cohen’s life and would feature short commentaries upon the genesis of the songs by the writer himself. This was in there too. I also heard that the director wanted to make the film arty. Yeah, that was kind of there too.

However, all of these elements didn’t blend as well as one would wish. The performances were often cut in half with short commentary by the singer of a particular song or by a soundbite from a Cohen interview. The director often chose to film the performer from neck up for most of their performances, which was just kind of weird and a bit disappointing since such a technique cuts the panorama view that we enjoy when attending a real show. In addition, the camera captured many artists at so close a proximity and for such long increments of time that I would begin to focus more on the facial transfigurations of the performer instead of focusing on the song. Martha Wainwright’s rendition of “The Traitor” was particularly irksome on film. I couldn’t concentrate on her voice, on her interpretation, or on the lyrics, so drawn were my eyes to the slightly grotesque transfigurations of her mouth and cheeks while singing and the close-up of the pores on her face and spaces between her teeth (not that she’s unattractive in the least). The director would have been wise to follow the maxim that a film about music must not allow images to get in the way of sound.

The performances themselves are, on the whole, good. Nick Cave opens the film with a crooning rendition of “I’m Your Man,” animated and moving with all the grace and coolness of Sinatra circa 1940 (and wearing some pretty cool dreds to boot). Rufus Wainwright (who is allowed three songs, the most of any of the performers) delivers a zesty cabaret version of “Everybody Knows,” probably the best perfomance of the film. The only other possible contender for the best performance would be Pulp-famed Jarvis Cocker’s interpretation of “I Can’t Forget,” which he executes with a perfect brew of ebbulience, gravity, and rakery, depending upon the lyric. Such a brew could actually be said of the Cave and Rufus performances as well, and cannot be said of the performaces that fell flat.

The Post-Rockist doesn’t like to traffic in negativity, but glory in our love and appreciation of music, the most positive force IN THE UNIVERSE. But negativity and criticism of the traditional type must be unleashed like a wild dog when one insults another’s love of a song so abominably. Teddy Thompson delivered not only the most boring performance of the entire film, but also revealed that he knows nothing about the songs of Leonard Cohen. Thompson plays “Tonight Will Be Fine,” from Songs from a Room, as a slow country-gospel song, closed-eyed and closed-teethed as well. The song drags musically and he sings with dead seriousness–a complete misinterpretation of the song. Cohen–like Morrissey, Elliott Smith, and Aimee Mann–are far too often portrayed by the listen-one-time-and-write-the-review critics and occasional listeners as the saddest and most depressing of songwriters: the Edgar Allen Poes and Emily Dickensons of pop music. I believe all four of these writers are absolutely hilarious at times, and “Tonight We’ll Be Fine” may be one of Cohen’s funniest songs. It’s sung by Cohen up-tempo, a melody that could be set to the lyrics of Dr. Suess, soft but playful nonetheless, with a distant jew’s harp plucking away in the background and, near the song’s end, Cohen actually whistling the tune. Almost every single lyric is absolutely ironic or playful:

Sometimes I find I get to thinking of the past.
We swore to each other then that our love would surely last.
You kept right on loving, I went on a fast,
Now I am too thin and your love is too vast.
But I know from your eyes
And I know from your smile
That tonight will be fine,
Will be fine, will be fine, will be fine
For a while.

I mean, if you didn’t get it by the comedy of the third and forth lines, then the pause after the final “will be fine” leading to the negating “for a while” should reveal that this is a song that is not of despair, but of the comedy of human relationships and how they end. The whistling at the song’s end is almost joyful. I imagine that the look in her eyes and her smile are stern and unrelenting. Maybe she isn’t smiling at all. That’s the wool being pulled over the listeners ears. Either way, Thomspon’s interpretation of the song hinges on the stereotype of Cohen and the depressive romantic and not upon the song itself. It makes sense to me that Thompson’s performance is the only one in the film that is not prefaced by a few short comments about the song by Cohen himself. What can you say when someone doesn’t get your joke.

However, the greatest disappointment of the film is the lack of time we are able to spend with Cohen himself. He is always poetic, introspective, or funny in every snippet we are given by the director–he is either absolutely sagelike, or absolutely charming. Yet I’m pretty sure that Rufus Wainwright spends almost as much time on film as Cohen himself (which is nothing against Rufus, but the film is about Cohen). One of the finest moments with Cohen is his reading of a preface he has written for a Chinese translation of his novel Beautiful Losers. It’s great–read it here.

Finally, I’m not going to write too much about U2’s role in the movie. This review is already getting a bit too long. Let’s just say that Bono offers his usual superlative-puffed psuedo-philosophizing on topics music-related, attempting metaphor after unintelligable metaphor to describe a music which (one cannot deny) means so much to him. As usual, just as he says something intelligent and affecting, he destroys that intelligence with pure gobbledygook. He just needs to learn when to quit talking.

The film ends with a performance of “Tower of Song” by Cohen himself, backed by U2. Throughout the performance, Cohen keeps a sedate face, not so much singing the song as talking it, with his eyes upturned, staring into space. Bono tries to look really into it and close headshots of the other band members (particularly U2’s bassist) reveal that they are probably pretending to play along with a recording. The whole performance seems a fabrication for the purpose of self-aggrandizement (U2 are old pros at this). But throughout the performance, Cohen carries a barely-recognizable little smile, pronounced slightly by the upturned corners of his mouth. It’s a coy, little smile. It’s a smile that gives away the truth that Cohen knows this performance is a sham, an end to a film that is trying to more than what it is. The smile is poker tell that Cohen gives freely and by choice. He knows that the film itself and all films of its kind are a kind of forgery that tries to present truth but cannot. And that he finds it all very amusing.

Posted by Scotter