laughing into the wind

“God’s machine” has turned atheist on us here at chez Jimbo’s girlfriend. You may recall that FCC Chairman Michael Powell once referred to TiVo as “God’s machine,” and in a blog I wrote back in November I said I agreed with his characterization entirely. Unfortunately, the TiVo in the living room-- the one that is connected to the big screen television-- is going bad on us. It records only sporadically and, because it doubles as the receiver for the satellite, sometimes it freezes and messes up live television, too.

O tempora. O mores.

If you don’t mind my borrowing a phrase that Cicero used in describing the Catilinarian conspiracy.

I know you are thinking, “Now, Jimbo, don’t be so dramatic. You’ve lived most of your adult life without TiVo. You can get by without it now.”

My answer is, but I don’t want to.

Anyway, we were watching live television last night, and fortunately it was working, and A Mighty Wind was playing on HBO. We got in in the middle, but we watched the last half of the movie. This morning I turned on the guide and found it was playing again. Normally I would have recorded it, but knowing TiVo was probably not going to record it right, I made a note of the time and did something I rarely do during the day, I watched something other than CNBC. I rarely turn on the TV during the day, and usually I only watch CNBC for a few minutes, when I get bored. Today, I watched an entire movie.

I’ve seen the movie This Is Spinal Tap a dozen times. I believe it was my son who bought me the DVD, but I watched it on VHS a lot over the last fifteen years. It’s one of those movies you can watch twenty times and see and hear new things each time you watch it. A number of the actors from This Is Spinal Tap also appear in A Mighty Wind. Both movies are fictional documentaries about fictional musical groups, the former about a rock group and the later about folk groups. In both movies, the story is told in the form of interviews with the various musicians, publicists, agents and peripheral characters interspersed throughout the film. You learn what is going on in bits and pieces in what is known as an unreliable narration. That means the people in the movie don’t always know what is going on, but you are able to figure it out. It was like in the movie Forrest Gump. You were able to know from his story what was going on, even though he didn’t know, himself.

Anyway, I particularly liked the performance of Mitch Cohen, played by Eugene Levy, a burned out musician, half of a folk duet called Mitch and Mickey, even though he reminds me too much of my ex-wife‘s seventh ex-husband, a gentleman with whom I am also estranged. Note to my son: if you ever see the movie, tell me if you agree.

As John Prine sang in his song Donald and Lydia, “There were spaces between” Mitch “and whatever he said.” Mitch and Mickey reunite after thirty or forty years to do a memorial concert for the late Irving Steinbloom, a folk music promoter who has recently passed on. The “Ode to Irving” concert around which this movie gravitates, will feature three groups formerly promoted by Steinbloom. In addition to Mitch and Mickey, a trio called the Folksmen, made up of Harry Shearer, Michael McKean and Christopher Guess (yes, the three principles of the band Spinal Tap) and The New Main Street Singers will perform. The New Main Street Singers are a re-incarnation of a group from the 1960s called the Main Street Singers, with one elderly original member and eight fresh faced youngsters.

The concert is being organized by Steinbloom’s family, his two sons and his wife, who appears to be the same age or younger than the progeny. In an interview, the family tells us they are not close and it appears that is also understated.

A married couple, the Bohners, in The New Main Street Singers tell us how they met and then they describe their faith to us. When the original Main Street Singers broke up, one of the founders started a pornography store. Mrs. Bohner worked for him and made movies, doing things “the other girls wouldn’t do.” Through this career she met Mr. Bohner who is sort of the front man for The New Main Street Singers. Their religion is based on color. “Humankind is simply materialized color operating on the forty-ninth vibration,” they tell us.

I think this movie would be a lot like This Is Spinal Tap in that the third or fourth time it is viewed it is the funniest, and when the words to the songs start to sink in, it becomes the most humorous part of the movie. Therefore I probably won’t have the full appreciation of A Mighty Wind until I see it a few more times. Damn that TiVo.

At one point The Folksmen are singing a song called Old Joe’s Place about a diner with a burned out neon sign, and one of the lines they sing is:

“I often think about a place I’ve never seen.”

That struck me funny, in a twisted sort of way.

There are a number of peripheral characters in this movie who add a lot in just a few sparse lines. Larry Miller as a public relations person for the concert says he doesn’t really like folk music, but “It doesn’t matter what we think, it’s what we make you think.” And Fred Willard as Agent Mike LaFontaine tells us about how thirty years ago he starred in a television series for one season and popularized the phrase “Wha’ Happened?” And we conclude his fifteen minutes ended there.

This is a movie that doesn’t have you rolling on the floor, but the dry, cerebral wit makes it worthwhile to watch. And, although I’ve only seen it once, in toto, I’d recommend seeing it several times, at the risk of sounding like The Folksmen and thinking about a place I’ve never seen.

Because in Jimbo’s world we like to see a good movie, especially in the comfort of our own living room.