By Steve Crum

Some of my favorite movies are biographies. Make that MANY. I am talking Hollywoodized versions of a celebrity’s life. The musical bio is a particular fav sub-genre. Respect, the Aretha Franklin saga, is a comfortable fit. It’s pretty much cookie-cutter predictable. (Hey, we all know Aretha’s songs…and there are 18 of them sung here by Jennifer Hudson over the 145-minute running time.) So the bottom line is if you are an Aretha Franklin fan, you will love Respect. The musical sequences are great. 

That said, fans and others will have to withstand some pretty grim realities of Aretha’s abusive upbringing and adult personal life. Regarding the latter, think of Tina Turner’s marriage to Ike…as depicted in 1993’s What’s Love Got to Do With It? Respect’s screenplay, by Tracy Scott Wilson, effectively punches literally and figuratively, yet leaves out some key facts—probably because they are just too shocking. 

Opening in 1952 Detroit, 12 year-old “Reth” (played by Skye Dakota Turner) is awakened by her Baptist minister father to once again get out of bed to entertain the loud party in the living room, whereupon she is told to dazzle the crowd by her adult-like singing. (Reth/Aretha and her two sisters live with their dad, who is divorced from an alcoholic mom she truly misses and loves.) Tragically, Reth is raped during one of her father’s parties—in her own bedroom—and gives birth to her first son when she is 13.

What Wilson’s screenplay fails to mention is the same thing occurs again when she is 14, resulting in her second son. The double whammy is that her pious father, Rev. C. L. Franklin (Forest Whitaker), raped a friend’s 12 year-old as well. And she gave birth too. These episodes were conveniently edited out.

Reth’s life if further devastated when her mother, Barbara Siggers Franklin (Audra McDonald), suddenly dies. Now she has no one who understands her, and no adult to confide in. Her father is anything but sympathetic or personable. 

As Reth grows older, with her own children being taken care of by her grandmother (?), she becomes more active in her father’s church and political aspirations. Her father’s close friends become her’s, including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (Gilbert Glenn Brown). 

It is not surprising that much of these early sequences include gospel songs—obviously a major influence on Aretha Franklin’s singing style. Early on, dad C. L. began planning her career as a recording artist. He is her agent/manager. Surprisingly, at least to me, C. L. encourages Reth to sign with Columbia Records in NYC, and is introduced to the legendary jazz authority John Hammond. The moderately successful jazz records lead to several albums of pop standards. At this point Aretha is only doing cover material, and nothing original. 

Aretha’s career then fluctuates until she breaks from her father’s supervision to old friend Ted White (Marlon Wayans), who establishes a successful career with original songs. She is on her way up in show biz, guided by an aggressive and very physically abusive husband, Ted. 

And so it goes with Respect, a sadly appropriate movie title which reflects both Aretha’s strife and one of her biggest songs.

Much more develops between Aretha and Ted, Aretha and C. L., Aretha and her sisters, and Aretha and her addictions. (Not much is said about her children, however.) 

There are some surprisingly good performances by Marc Maron as record producer Jerry Wexler, and Tituss Burgess and gospel singer/pianist/composer James Cleveland. 

While much of the script focuses on the recording studio and creative process, it is Jennifer Hudson’s treatment of Aretha Franklin’s songs that sparkles here. Hudson was the late Aretha’s personal choice to portray her. 

A wise choice indeed. 

 GRADE on an A-F Scale: B

By Steve Crum

Lucy and Desi is not the first documentary about the famed Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, but it is the best—the definitive. This fine work is comedian Amy Poehler’s baby via her directing. Her professionalism behind the camera is impressive.  The superb editing, so vital in any documentary, is by Robert A. Martinez. 

Still, what makes Lucy and Desi essential viewing even though at least three or four thematically similar documentaries preceded over the past decades? 

First of all, the 102 minutes is loaded with both loving and realistic dialogue and footage. A great deal of the words and pictures have never been seen or heard before. Featured commentator Lucie Arnaz Luckinbill, Lucy & Desi’s daughter, has truly opened the family “secrets,” making public many private cassette recordings made by Lucy and Desi (organized by Lucy—maybe for a future autobiography?) that have some revelations about their feelings and motivations. Thanks to Martinez’ skillful editing, these recordings are shown with the family’s privately shot silent home movies—most of them in color. The factors perfectly enhance each other. 

A fraction of the home movie footage has popped up in previous documentaries, but most is new and fascinating. For example, there is the story of Lucy’s very early years visiting her grandfather on his farm. That includes the near fatal rifle shooting on his property that caused him and the family to move to another state. Her grandfather’s later involvement with the Communist Party is also covered, as well as Lucy’s reason for “joining” the Party. 

This incident covers familiar territory exploited in Aaron Sorkin’s recent bio-drama, Being the Ricardos. Lucie Arnaz indirectly notes in this docu that Sorkin’s recreated sequence about J. Edgar Hoover defending Lucille Ball is factual! Many critics have disputed that claim.

Lucy and Desi runs the gamut of the duo’s incredible career and private life, from their “mixed marriage” to Desi’s alcoholism and philandering to the rise of Desilu Productions. It also digs back into Lucy’s early movie years at RKO and MGM, refugee Desi’s Cuban ancestry (with some incredible footage of his Havana family and home), and the fact that Lucy and Desi were actually married twice. (See the documentary for details.) 

There is footage of the pre-I Love Lucy couple guesting on a 1949 TV Ed Wynn Show, and their touring stage show (a precursor to their own TV program). The familiar is repeated here as well: I Love Lucy’s use of a live studio audience and the 3-camera filming innovation; the hiring of Vivian Vance and William Frawley; and Lucy and Desi’s divorce and new spouses—yet the two continued to love each other. 

I think I had heard about Lucy attributing Buster Keaton for her use of props in comedy, but it seemed fresh to realize her credit. She really did utilize props well to get big laughs.

What Lucy and Desi does NOT mention (even though I wanted to hear about such) is/are the two starring movies they made: The Long, Long Trailer (1953) and Forever Darling (1956). The former is particularly hilarious, even though one might call it an extended I Love Lucy episode. 

Guest speakers include Bette Midler, Carol Burnett, Charo, Norman Lear, Desi Arnaz Jr., Gregg Oppenheimer, and Laura Laplaca.

I was happy to hear Lucille Ball’s comment about herself in this documentary, “I’m not a funny person.” For years I have said Lucille Ball was not a great comedian, but instead a great comedy actress.

Lucy and Desi is a sublime documentary for fans. For all of us it is cherished early TV history. And it is a poignant love story. 

 GRADE on an A-F Scale: A

By Steve Crum

The first “Crummy Art” was “Sammy Shoe.” I started drawing these single panel cartoonies of a little guy with huge shoes during my elementary school years. They were distributed among childhood friends in my semi-rural Kansas City, Kansas neighborhood…around 1953-54, when I was 6 or 7. Incidentally, the Crum on Showbiz angle here surfaces soon enough. Trust me.

Influenced by comic books (Batman, Superman, Little Lulu, Herbie, Henry, and many others), I kept sketching. Yet I never took an art class in or out of school. Then came Wyandotte High School, and enrollment in journalism during my junior and senior years. On the Pantograph student newspaper, I was staff photographer, feature writer…and CARTOONIST! I later drew cartoons for my Emporia State University newspaper, “The Bulletin”; and for years created my own Crummy Christmas Cards. That led me to illustrating two textbooks, teaching posters, and a teacher’s tote bag at The University of Kansas. 

For a decade while teaching journalism in high school (35 years), I wrote a weekly entertainment column for “The Kansas City Kansan.” I would sometimes embellish my writing with cartoons. Samples follow. (You will probably need to enlarge your view.) 

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ON THE SAD OCCASION OF MILTON BERLE’S DEATH, I DREW HIM AS A WISP OF CIGAR SMOKE.

I PAID HOMAGE TO ONE OF THE BEST HOLIDAY MOVIES, A CHRISTMAS STORY, VIA THIS TWISTED RALPHIE IMAGE. 

THIS IS THE ORIGINAL PRE-PUBLICATION PASTE-UP FOR MY TAKE ON E.T.—WHICH MADE FUN OF A THEN POPULAR COMMERCIAL.

REFERENCING DAVID LEAN’S GREAT MOVIE IN CARTOONIE FORM…

I HAVE BEEN A MEMBER OF THE SONS OF THE DESERT, THE INTERNATIONAL LAUREL AND HARDY FAN CLUB, FOR DECADES. MY TAKE OF THE BOYS…

THE “TRUTH” ABOUT GROUCHO MARX AND JAMES STEWART!? (I REGRET THE MISTAKE OF NOT SHOWING GROUCHO IN A BOW TIE.)

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Thanks for perusing the Crum Gallery!

By Steve Crum

Mere minutes into the movie, you know something special, classically special, is unfolding. Its gentle grab of children cavorting in the street…the depiction of family life…the close proximity of the homes…are established. 

Set in August 1969, Belfast is the story of an Irish family living in Northern Ireland whose life is told mainly through the youngest of the six, 9 year-old Buddy. Although touted as comedy-drama, the emphasis is predominantly serious drama. But identifying itself as “semi-biographical” is apt, since writer/director Kenneth Branagh based Belfast on his childhood. Branagh tells his story so vividly, so movingly.

During that time, Ireland was undergoing a tumultuous conflict within Belfast neighborhoods wherein Protestants and Catholics chose to stake their claims by segregating households block by block. It became standard that an entire section of houses was occupied by either Catholics or Protestants—never mixing within the blocks. Streets became territorial. It was akin to inner city street gang procedure. In fact, organized gangs did violently enforce the segregation. So it goes in Belfast.

Amidst the peril of those times, we meet grade schooler Buddy and his family. (Their last names are not identified, presumably because they are closely based on Branagh’s family.) Their small house is one of lookalike dozens jammed next to each other and flanking the brick street. Their street is considered a Catholic neighborhood, and they are Protestant. They accept their neighbors, and vice versa. It is no surprise they are not popular with very nearby Protestant neighborhoods. When a Protestant-based gang decides to ramp up attacks (brick throwing, fire bombs), Buddy and his family are also targeted. As violence escalates, British soldiers are called in to keep the peace. That action is anything but calming, since the Brits and Irish are constantly at odds. 

Definitely in harm’s way are Buddy (Jude Hill) and his family: “Ma,” (Caitríona Balfe), “Pa” (Jamie Dornan), older brother Will (Lewis McAskie), “Granny,” (Judi Dench), and “Pop,” the grandfather, an Oscar worthy performance by Ciarán Hinds. Really, all six are Academy Award level. Certainly they would qualify for any Best Ensemble Award. 

Pa works overseas in England, and is absent for months at a time. That means Ma, Granny and Pop are left to raise the boys and keep the family safe. There are positives amidst the stress, however. Buddy and Will have fun with friends and teachers are school, and playing in the streets—whenever it is safe enough to do so. They watch cartoons on the small black and white TV in the living room, and play with wooden swords. Buddy, in particular, has adventures with other children—not always sanctioned by Ma. 

Buddy becomes very attached to Pop, and there is pause when Pop becomes ill. Pa wrestles with not being home to do his share in raising his boys, and being a good husband. When he does return home for a brief break, he is confronted by neighborhood bully/gang leader Billy Clanton (Colin Morgan), who pressures him to join the looting and burning “for the cause.” Pa rejects him, putting his family in more danger. Throughout all the tumult is a passion to love the family unit as well as one’s neighbors. 

The look of the film, crediting both Branagh and cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos, is quite wonderful. The neighborhood becomes OUR neighborhood. So distinct it is, long past its 97 minute running time. 

Special mention goes to Van Morrison, a Belfast native, who performs eight of his classic songs featured on the soundtrack…as well as a new one he wrote.

The challenges felt by Buddy and his family do evolve to a finale laced with both hope and sadness. Granny’s closing remark evokes memories of Ma Joad in The Grapes of Wrath. Like then, it works. So well. 

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GRADE on an A-F Scale: A

By Steve Crum

It is worth your while to look up (via Netflix) the satirically funny science fiction epic, Don’t Look Up. While you’re there, watch it closely for all the nuances and parallels to current events over the past five years—during the Trump presidency years particularly. You can’t miss them, since writer/director Adam McKay blatantly lays them out. That is the film’s strength AND weakness—explored later in this piece. 

Don’t Look Up is a big production, not only in its 138-minute running time, but by its diamond studded cast of Oscar winners and nominees. Consider these Tiffany types: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Jonah Hill, Mark Rylance, Timothée Chalamet, Cate Blanchett, and Meryl Streep. It is also big in terms of the scope (the end of the world) and visual depictions thereof. (Not to give away too much, but the outer worldly sets and digitals are particularly spotlighted late in the movie.) 

Plot-wise, the time is the present. Michigan State astronomers Dr. Randall Mindy (DiCaprio) and Kate Dibiasky (Lawrence) discover the potential end of earth via a large comet which will obliterate our planet in six
months. After informing NASA’s Planetary Defense Coordination Office honcho, Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe (Rob Morgan), the three trek to The White House to present the doomsday findings to President Janie Orlean (Meryl Streep) and her son, Chief of Staff Jason Orlean (Jonah Hill). 

After the Prez and her son reject the impending doom, Mindy and Dibiasky decide to alert the public through the media. Why not guest on a popular morning talk show hosted by Jack Bremmer (Tyler Perry) and Brie Evantee (Cate Blanchett)! Unfortunately, the talk show hosts spin the news as happy talk entertainment. When a high ranking official finally approves a plan to launch a missile to collide with the comet, offsetting its earth trajectory, billionaire Peter Isherwell (Mark Rylance) successfully cancels the plan. He has discovered a money making scheme to allow the comet to actually collide with earth.

Enough of the plot details. Just realize that more government execs, business bigwigs, and military brass enter into the wild scenario. “Don’t Look Up” becomes a logo printed on baseball caps worn by President Orlean and her anti-destroy the comet followers. She and her compatriots have turned disaster into a fake news fantasy. A rallying cry is heard throughout the land—at least from the loud minority. 

 Although no real names are mentioned in this fantasy sci-fi tale, it is easy to translate the symbolism. President Janie Orlean is a more than a mere shade of Donald Trump; Hill’s Chief of Staff Jason Orlean could be a variety of lackeys, but comes across as Don Jr.; and on and on. The caps really tell the story. 

Acting by all is stellar, particularly the zaniness of Jonah Hill and Mark Rylance. They mesh perfectly with the film’s absurdism.

The big problem of Don’t Look Up is that which is being satirized is linked to a nightmarish satire itself. In other words, absorbing DLU becomes a bothersome dèjá vu unto itself. In most ways, it is too painfully true to be funny. It plays its wicked laughs to the proverbial choir of America’s political liberal and middle-of-the-roaders. That kick in the butt of recent history will surely not be appreciated by conservatives and far rightists. DLU reinterprets their red hat-ism. 

Don’t Look Up is no Dr. Strangelove in achieving lasting political satire brilliance, but it does mirror the times in which it was produced. We are talking some sad, pathetic and desperate years of fear and loathing in the good ol’ USA….that still exist with this writing. 

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Incidentally, be sure to watch the end credits. More footage exists!

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GRADE on an A-F Scale: B