IS THERE A PERFECT JAZZ MOVIE? - PART 3: THE RUNNER-UP
Just to remind you, gentle reader, the search is for a film which has a look, dialogue and ambience which comes nearest to capturing the essence of the jazz culture and experience.
Here is my (totally subjective) runner up:
LIVING JAZZ (1961)
Yes, a seemingly strange choice. A “short” (coming in at 40 mins approx) shot in black and white about not very famous British mainstream musicians on a very small budget. Contrast the expensive full-length colour features we have looked at before like BIRD, with a cast of name movie actors, and ROUND MIDNIGHT with appearances by Francois Cluzet and Martin Scorsese.
If you have read previous Musings on this website, you will recall that I have already made reference to this little film while paying homage to the legendary jazz buff and record dealer JOHN KENDALL. I referred to the scene where he is waiting for (and ultimately missing) a No.13 bus to Baker St. when he is spotted by the members of the BRUCE TURNER JUMP BAND (the subject of the film) who are loading up drummer Johnny Armitage’s Ford Zephyr prior to setting off for an out-of-town gig.
[I imagine Johnny Kendall’s cameo role was a result of the film being partly financed and produced by DOUG DOBELL.]
LIVING JAZZ was expertly directed by JACK GOLD whose more famous credits include THE NAKED CIVIL SERVANT (1975)with John Hurt playing Quentin Crisp, THE NATIONAL HEALTH (1973), a surreal black comedy based on Peter Nicholls’s play and the very last TV episode of INSPECTOR MORSE.
Gold brings a combination of warmth, humour and authenticity to this earlier modest project. The cast consists entirely of non-actors – the members of the JUMP BAND: Bruce Turner(alto), John Chilton(tpt), John Mumford(tmb), Colin Bates(p), Jim Bray(bs) and Johnny Armitage(d).
Their playing is swinging, unpretentious and delightful. The dialogue which they are assigned is sometimes awkwardly and amateurishly delivered (the laboured joke John Chilton tells in the street, the mugging in the empty dance hall on arrival) and sometimes realistic and unselfconscious (the rehearsal scene at the Six Bells). In any case the scenes when dialogue occurs are without exception convincing.
The film plays out a simple sequence of events in chronological order
· A gig at the SIX BELLS, King’s Rd, Chelsea
· A rehearsal the next day at the same venue
· The journey to, and performance of, an out-of-town gig.
The large upstairs room at the SIX BELLS pub was a famous venue for mainstream jazz in the Sixties. I did my first gig with Humphrey Lyttleton there.
The film opens with the JUMP BAND’s final number and then there is a lovely sequence of packing up and getting paid – “Fours, Dad” Bruce tells his sidemen as he dishes out four £1 notes to each. [Sounds about right although Humph was known for paying more!]
There’s a great moment when John Mumford on his way downstairs makes to take a cigarette out of his mouth but finds both hands occupied with his overcoat and trombone case respectively.
Then we cut to the next day, same place (sunlight, empty room stacked with chairs ) where the band are rehearsing before their next gig. This sequence, naturally acted, is framed by shots of pianist Colin Bates in the street with his wife and daughter and the wife and daughter going upstairs to collect him just before the band have finished.
The next thing we see, on the third day, is Jim Bray humping his bass along the pavement with Madame Tussauds in the background. The other musicians are assembling by the drummer’s car. The latter is muttering that he can’t start loading up until the bass has arrived and can be secured, along with the bass drum, to the roof rack. Everything else has to be squeezed into the boot which has to remain slightly open, tied by string. After the brief Johnny Kendall interlude, they set off along a dual carriageway and into the country. They make a stop at a transport café and eventually arrive at their destination. It is raining all the time, windscreen wipers working overtime, and the trip is accompanied by a well chosen soundtrack of their own music.
The venue is a dance hall. Colin tries the grand piano which is mercifully in reasonable tune. Alto and piano perform a faux sentimental snatch of Drink to me only (purely for the camera, one suspects) and then the drummer, as he alone struggles to unpack and set up, hears the dread words “We’re off to get something to eat”. Thanks a bunch, chaps! I know the feeling!
The dance hall seems to be a relic which escaped demolition because the next scenes are shot in a hideous new town shopping precinct. The camera at a discreet distance shoots Turner and Chilton chatting up three birds, while Mumford stares dubiously at a travel agent’s window display for flights to Hawaii.
Cut straight into the gig. Seems to be going OK. Despite the modern style of the beat and solos, the audience are jiving enthusiastically on the floor. The number they had particularly rehearsed back at the Six Bells goes perfectly. Fade out to credits.
What is it about this little film that ticks almost all of my boxes? Every detail just rings so true! This is the real unglamorous deal. This is the jazz life. Jack Gold has succeeded in capturing its essence.
My only reservation is that there is no attempted insight into the personality of the musicians. (They are all, Bruce Turner and John Mumford in particular, “cards”!) That was not, I accept, the object of this exercise and it would not have been feasible to expand this perfectly paced film by examining character traits. Nevertheless, personal traits/problems/ eccentricities would need to be an ingredient in the totally perfect film I’m looking for.
9.5/10
THAT’S ALL FOLKS Next time, the winner……………………..