Paul Williams: Still Alive

Whether realized or not, Paul Williams has had a tremendous musical impact on my generation. Easily the redeeming factor of this film are the juxtapositions of Williams in his heyday and Williams today.

The documentary is populated with gasp-inducing ("I remember that!" "I saw that when it aired!") moments, terrific vintage clips, and good interviews, especially with his long-time band leader.

Williams comes off completely accessible and a very self-aware guy. The tragedy of this entire project is the fact that the person at the film's helm is Stephen Kessler, who is intrusive, obnoxious, paranoid, xenophobic, and, most of all, so self-absorbed that every action Williams makes (a tour of Vegas, to the Philippines, etc.) is about him. Not 30 flippin' seconds go by in this documentary, where Kessler isn't self-referential.

Williams is shockingly gracious despite Kessler's repeated attempts at "gotcha" moments. Kessler is so arrogant that he actually interrupts Williams' poignant childhood memory. He's the kind of "reporter" (term used very loosely) who isn't listening to his subject. Kessler has an agenda, and no matter how many times he refers to Williams as his "idol," that agenda is a despicable one. Kessler's "fame" (Oscar for a short film) wasn't even a blip on the entertainment scene and he is determined to make this film about him.

If only Kessler had used this amazing opportunity to showcase Williams -- who is certainly as interesting and engaging as he'd been at the height of his fame -- this could have been a very remarkable film portrait. It wouldn't even have had to be a tribute; Williams shows moments of curmudgeonly behavior (and really, who wouldn't be, in Kessler's presence), but Williams' humor and undeniable talent deserve a showcase.

Kessler repeatedly (and cringing-ly) keeps asking questions that are the equivalent of "how does it feel to have been so famous and to become so irrelevant?" The truly horrible moment is when Kessler (who clearly has been chomping at the bit, stalking Williams for two years for this opportunity) makes Williams awkwardly and uncomfortably sit through a late 70s-vintage television clip of a clearly high, Williams hosting the "Mike Douglas Show."

Kessler wants to make a film about himself, and frame it with a compelling subject like Williams. For Williams -- who generously consented to Kessler's cameras AND provided him with boxes of videos for the documentary (without these contributions there would be absolutely no film) -- this film provides a reminder of Williams. But he deserves so much better.

The reason I was interested in seeing "Paul Williams Still Alive" is because of his recent and entirely unexpected entrance into the limelight at the Grammy Awards. When the enigmatic French band Daft Punk won the award for Best Album, folks were wondering how they'd accept the award. After all, this group's members are anonymous-- wearing strange getup that conceal who they are. So their representative to speak for them was Paul Williams, as he'd produced some of their music. Imagine...a European electro-pop group whose front man is the 1970s TV and recording icon Paul Williams. His tragically unhip songs today (such as "Rainy Days and Mondays" and "Rainbow Connection") are not the sort of stuff you could imagine Daft Punk listening to, that's for sure! To me, THIS makes for a great story...and isn't even mentioned in any way, as the documentary came out just before his work with Daft Punk.

As for the documentary, I have very mixed feelings about it. On the positive side, it celebrates the huge number of hit songs he gave us in the 70s and 80s--song you heard all the time during that era. It also gives you a nice portrait of the man today--having worked on his substance abuse recovery to create a nice, but busy, life for himself. All this is great. But, the film also has a huge distraction--the filmmaker, Stephen Kessler. He is much of the film--as unlike many documentaries where you don't see or even hear from the filmmakers themselves (my favorites, by the way), much of the film is Kessler talking about himself and insinuating himself into Williams' life. And I didn't care that Kessler was like a proverbial 'ugly American' in that he refused to eat the local food when he was traveling in the Philippines...who cares if he's like this or not since the film is NOT supposed to be about him!?! Maybe I am reading something into it, but he just seemed annoying (his interviewing style was obnoxious at times) and I didn't want to hear about him and his love for Williams. I just wanted to see and hear Williams. As for Williams, he seemed like a nice guy--and put up with a lot and seemed to roll with what came. All in all, it was nice to see that he is a happy guy who isn't spending his time looking back but without Kessler's ever-present presence, i think it would have been a much better film.

To any filmmaker out there reading this, why don't YOU make a good documentary about Paul Williams? He's very interesting and a worthy topic for a film...and you couldn't possibly do a worse job than this mess!!

Funny - 2012 must have been the year for depressing documentaries about aging great singer-songwriters.

Like the Neil Young Journeys fiasco, this film disappoints. It's not boring like Young's film, but it is sad, sad, sad!!!

And why did Stephen Kessler hound Williams until the end, with old video clips that only humiliated him and made him want to throw Kessler out of his house?

I was a writer for Downbeat magazine years ago and I profiled famous jazz musicians, some of whom had personal rough spots and most of whom had seen their careers die down with age. But I knew enough not to make them uncomfortable or embarrass them with insulting questions...and, in the telling, I didn't emphasize the darker side of things. Yes, tell the tale, but with giants like Paul Williams (those of you who weren't around might not know he was on the top of the world once, having written scores of great hit songs sung by many - including himself - and he rose to celebrityhood also on his wit and charm) need to be treated with a little more respect.

And PS Kessler, I - the grandson of a great songwriter and bandleader - can tell you that the music industry eats you up and spits you out. It's a rare person whose fame or popularity lasts a lifetime and it's no fault of the artist.

The Monkees' Davy Jones, may he rest in peace, had a career in later life much like Williams. This is what happens in the fickle music industry. Even Boston's lead singer, Brad Delp, who sadly took his own life not long ago, experienced disappointment after having been on top of the world in one of the best rock bands ever.

So...there's a bigger story here and it's not told.

It was only in the 1970s that Paul Williams could have occurred. Short, with curly lips that made him look like a smirky Little Lord Fauntleroy, he was a fixture on talk shows, a cheeseball actor, and a profoundly talented melancholy pop composer like "Rainy Days and Mondays." He's a humbled man in the doc of Stephen Kessler who regrets the spoiled child he once was.The film is fascinating, although it smacks a little too much of its own lips at the tackiness of the stardom of the freak seventies

This film is not a traditional biopic, but rather the director's recounting of the role Paul Williams has played throughout his life. How he remembers him from his youth, and how he figures into his current life. There are touches of Paul's early career and life, but the primary focus is on the friendship which grew between him and the director throughout the years of filming.

Stephen Kessler, a once hopeful, now floundering director, had been a fan of Williams' work growing up, but lost track of him somewhere around the early 80's. Much to his surprise, he found out that the entertainer was not dead, as he had long assumed, and was still making public appearances. He then went on a journey to discover where Paul had disappeared to for all those absent years.

The only flaw with this idea is that, for many of us, Paul never disappeared. Sure, his presence wasn't as strongly felt as it may have been a few decades ago, but even with his struggles with drug and alcohol abuse (now clean for 20 years), Paul was still making music and appearing in several films and TV shows. While I realize that Paul may have been flying under the radar for many, he was far from underground.

Kessler ignores these recent efforts, leaving blank Paul's creative history between 1980 and the late 2000s when he started filming this documentary. When asked during a Q&A following a screening of this film if he was still writing music, Paul lovingly jokes that he is and he thinks Kessler would have been happier to have found him living a trailer and eating out of trashcans, as it would have been better for his movie.

This film is not really one about Paul Williams, per se, it seems more about Kessler's search to find out something about his past, about his own slipping into obscurity, and the ways in which filming Paul transforms from an idea, to a crutch, to a renewed hope in his own career...and a friendship between the two.

While I feel like some discredit was done to Paul by lacking to mention the full spectrum of his work, I am glad to have a film that can renew interest in him and his many talents. The film is fully entertaining and Williams is delightful, albeit not quite the focus that the title might lead one to believe.