Cinematic Synchronicity: Moms, Sons, and fresh starts

I have a thing for Sally Field. There, I said it. Or, rather a thing for Sally Field circa 1976 to 1984, not the Boniva Sally Field. I mean, seriously, is there anything in the world cuter than Frog in Smokey and the Bandit? The answer, of course, is "no". Regardless, it's probably why Murphy's Romance was in my queue.

Field plays Emma, a tough single mom and horse trainer in this pretty obscure movie from 1985 starring a still-adorable Sally opposite a less-adorable but ruggedly handsome James Garner. Recently divorced Emma starts a new life with her young son (Corey Haim), faces some gender discrimination, befriends lovable liberal shop owner Murphy (Garner)...but when her exceedingly good-looking but no-good mustachioed ex-husband Bobby Jack shows up, she has to juggle his efforts to reconcile, Murphy's increasing interest (despite the three-decade age difference), and her duties as a mother.

Okay, sounds like a winner already, right? Well, it kind of was, despite the original soundtrack by Carole King and David Sanborn (yikes). The 80's got a lot of things right with movies, but synths and saxes over scenes of an Arizona horse farm is not one of them.

There were some problems; the stakes never seemed that high, everything kind of always seemed like it was gonna work out (it did). The bank never tries to take Emma's farm, Bobby Jack never acted like a total psycho, her son was a little too well-behaved. There's a kind of embarrassing dance hall bit when Murphy (Garner) and the ex-husband are competing for Emma's attention. It drags at points, but the scenery is so nice I didn't mind too much. The politics seemed a little shoehorned in. And I already mentioned the soundtrack.

But due to strong performances by Field and Garner and the fact that the quaint town, complete with soda shop/pharmacy, Elks bingo hall, and old-timey movie theater, was a place nobody would mind spending a couple of hours, this movie works. Garner's like a shot of Adavan, coolly nailing the wise widower who's been through the ringer and has come out stronger for it.

A highlight is when Murphy, after being accused of "banging" Emma by Bobby Jack, delivered this line without so much as raising his voice, in that way only James Garner can:

"You are a miserable son-of-a-bitch, you know that? I don't know why she took you in the house; I'd bed you down with the dogs, and I'll tell you something else, mister--you may be a lot younger and stronger, but you're about to get your ass kicked from here to the state line. And I'm wearing the boots that can do it."

Damn Straight.



Okay, so I used the stupid word synchronicity because that's what happens sometimes, you pull two movies off your "watch instantly" queue, you don't know the plot of either, but they are remarkably similar in some major way. Or, maybe my subconscious knew the plots somehow and that's why, after Murphy's Romance, I started up Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (1974).

Like Murphy, Alice is about a mid-thirtees mother (played by Ellen Burstyn) recently extricated from an unfulfilling marriage (via fatal car wreck instead of divorce) and must hit the road and head West to carve out a new life for her and her young son. In both films mother and son look out for each other, both do what it takes to get by, and they are extremely close, dodging the pitfalls of new surroundings and questionable men.

I got it on good authority from separate sources that Alice is a great flick. And I bet most cinephiles would argue that even a somewhat overlooked Scorcese film is better than anything Sally Field's been in. And they might be right. And maybe chalk it up to watching Alice pretty late at night, but I liked Murphy better.

Maybe Alice is a more critically admired movie, but honestly I had to turn it off a half hour before it ended. Again, I was tired, but that movie is too damn long. There were full minutes where I wondered why wasn't that on the cutting room floor? Answer: technically it's a gorgeous movie, and totally ahead of its time in that regard, but pretty shots don't always move the story forward.

I heard Kris Kristofferson was in this movie. By an hour in, and still no Kris, I was starting to wonder if I'd heard correctly. Honestly, that character needed to be in WAY before that. By the time he appears, I've honestly stopped caring. And though a lot of the mother/son dialogue was golden, the kid's starting to annoy me, and as admirable as Alice is, I just didn't like her very much, perhaps due to lack of character development.

The scenes in the diner were just unbearable. I didn't like the spin-off sitcom Alice, and I didn't like it here. Is it supposed to be funny? Is it supposed to be depressing and dramatic? It could be both simultaneously, but it just seemed to swing back and forth willy-nilly. It was exhausting.

And when Kris flipped out and smacked the kid during the guitar lesson, I just turned it off and went to sleep. I was done. I needed him to be a nice guy, not another asshole in these poor people's lives, and I certainly didn't have the patience or interest to see him change, and why.

Murphy showed up within the first ten minutes of Murphy's Romance, and we got a lot of time to get to know him, get to like him. And when he finally gets the girl, it's really satisfying because of it. If Murphy had shown up an hour into the movie and then smacked Ella's boy, I would have turned it off too.

But, maybe I'll watch the rest just for kicks.

Marvin Gaye - Live! (in Oakland CA) - 1974

The first two things immediately noticeable about this album, given that Marvin doesn't start singing for at least a couple of minutes in, was (1) the crowd is going absolutely bananas, and (2) the band is stellar. Neither of these observations comes as a big shock. Beyond that, there's not a whole lot more to say about this except that it's is a near-perfect, spectacular performance.

The arrangements are impressive; songs strung together in a seamless, powerful medlies that make for lots of crowd-pleasing moments. When Marvin starts "Distant Lover" and "Let's Get It On", the crowd damn near drowns him out. The subtle, looping lead guitar part on "Let's Get It On" is wonderfully playful.

Marvin introduces "Jan" as a new tune, explaining that a friend asked him to write a song for her, and he did. Lucky girl. I'd never heard it before, and it's charming. It definitely holds up aside the heavy hitters on this record.

The only problem is technical; some ugly feedback creeps in a couple of times, but other than that, the show is flawless. Marvin sounds amazing, the band is outstanding, the energy is electric... I wish I could have seen this performance, but this recording is the next best thing.

Oh, and dig those boots!

Phil Collins - Hello, I Must Be Going! 1982

I had a premonition that the first randomly selected album would be Phil Collins. Honestly, I did. However, I wasn't even aware that this one was in there. I was thinking No Jacket Required, maybe. I'm not sure why I picked this up, or if I ever even listened to it. It's a little cheesy at points, but there are some nice surprises, and the songs, naturally, are excellently written.

With "I Don't Care Anymore", Phil comes out swinging; he's a bit pissed about a failed relationship. The drums are bombastic and the structure is interesting, with a McCartneyan bridge that appears only once in the middle of the lyrically bitter song. Good way to start out. I thought I might have an idea about how this album was going to go, but then "I Cannot Believe It's True" hits like a 80's TV theme song lost to time. The only redeeming thing about this cut is that if played at a dance party (or possibly aerobics class), folks would get down.

There's a lot of remembering on this album; specifically Phil remembering his huge hit "In the Air Tonight", from the previous year's Face Value. Twice, Phil sings "I remember" in almost the same way he does on that track. Also, in "Thru These Walls", the huge drums from "In the Air..." are replicated almost exactly. I don't mind, I love the way that drum machine sounds. "Thru These Walls" might be my favorite tune; the combination of the real and canned drums is really cool, and the vocal melodies doubled by the synth are great.

The cover of "You Can't Hurry Love", despite it's 80's production stiffness, has a considerable amount of soul. And the "Motown, we salute you!" in the liner notes is a funny touch. But, it seems a little out of place on this album.

"Don't Let Him Steal Your Heart Away", a nice piano ballad with synth swells, and "Why Can't It Wait 'Til Morning", a glossy but effectively heartwrenching account of a fighting couple, showcase Phil's mastery of songwriting. "West Side", a sax instrumental with a Quincy Jones vibe, could have easily been worked into any number of Lethal Weapon movie soundtracks. Not necessarily a bad thing.

We have well drawn ballads that touch on themes of resignation, rejection, jealosy, and desperation. There's midtempo drum machine-driven songs that are Phil's expertise. And we have few upbeat, synthy dance tunes thrown in for good measure. And of course, we're treated to a ton of incredibly performed drumming. This might not be Phil's most cohesive or memorable album, but it's worth a listen.

Dance party songs: "You Can't Hurry Love", "I Cannot Believe It's True", "It Don't Matter To Me"

Another move, another backache (originally written 11/2/09)

My record collection is heavier than anything else I own. And I keep moving it around, from place to place, apartment to apartment. It grows, and each move is a little more difficult than the last. I've never counted my LP's; maybe I will at some point. But I guess there might be... let's see, six records in a stack is about an inch, I've got about nine wooden crates worth that measure about fourteen inches I guess, so, about 800 records? I don't have them in front of me, but my back is telling me that's about right.

I developed a love for records as a kid, when I listened to my dad's old records every night while going to sleep. The Beatles' Rubber Soul was one of my favorites. I had this old wooden monstrosity next to my bed that looked like a writing desk, but the hinged top would lift and reveal a turntable inside. You could load up several records onto this contraption that was supposed to drop and play them in order, one beginning at the conclusion of the last. It rarely worked properly.

My first apartment after my brief college career was with two friends in my hometown of Little Rock. It was in a depressing complex with a swimming pool. The apartment shortly became a party house, and the speed with which it became trashed was astounding. As much as I should have enjoyed a place like that at nineteen, I didn't. I tried to avoid the mayhem by staying in my room and listening to records, mostly ones I'd convinced my dad to let me pilfer from his collection. It was comforting; I would pretend it was an earlier time.

When I moved to Boston in 1996, the first thing I did was buy a turntable at the Goodwill. I didn't bring records with me; no room in my one bag on the Greyhound. But I soon began collecting, from thrift stores and flea markets and record stores. On my days off, I had a route all around Boston and Cambridge; in a few hours you could hit at least a dozen places that sold mostly vinyl. If there was a choice at a live show, I'd usually grab the record over the CD. I've filled in some blues, jazz, country and folk over the last few years.

So, back to the move...

Things tend to get mixed up in a move, and my genre-based and alphabetical system is now a mess. I was contemplating doing a full reorganization, so I could find things easily. But then I realized that recently I've tended to listen to the same records over and over, ignoring large swaths of my collection. What if I just pulled something out at random and put it on the turntable, no matter what it was? It doesn't seem like a crazy idea, but it never really occurred to me before.

I find myself alone in a little bedroom with not much else other than music. I guess it's time to rediscover my record collection.