A Poem Is a Naked Person

In this documentary we get a portrait of the musician Leon Russell in concert and the studio, sure, but we also get a portrait of the time and place, one that Les Blank paints so naturally. He seems to let his gaze fall on things which interest him, like the way the clouds float past the sun, making it look like it's swimming through them, the shimmering of colored lights in the water at night, or a little girl singing "Joy to the World," and then lets us simply enjoy these things too. Many other artists and musicians are given a chance to shine, some amateur, some professional, like George Jones and a young Willie Nelson. It's so organic, and a perfect match to Russell's genre-blending, improvisational style.

Filmmaker Les Blank spends 1972 to 1974 filming musician Leon Russell at his recording studio on Grand Lake in Oklahoma and as he plays his concerts. It has a younger Willie Nelson among others. It's a moody piece. I don't get much of a sense of anybody especially Leon Russell except when the snake has its meal. It's more a sense of place that seems to be on display. Some of the performances are fun and it's compelling music. There is an echo in an interview and I'm not sure if it's deliberate. The whole movie is a bit messy. I don't know anything about Leon Russell before this and after this, I'm not sure that I know him that well. That is really the start and the end of this. I don't care much about the drugged out philosophical ramblings of the band, the fans, and the hanger-on. The other people seem to be good ole boys and I don't care much about them either. Les is throwing everything at this including the kitchen sink or in this case, a building implosion. A guy is suddenly eating glass to show off and I don't know who he is. That's this movie.

This film is incredibly rare, and if you get the chance, you must see it. Les Blank screened this film to private audiences only, and now that he has passed away, who knows if it will ever be screened again. Les told me that he was waiting to see who died first, him or Leon, and if Leon died first Les would release the film. Les Blank and Leon Russell are both geniuses in their own regards, and I hope one day the rest of the world gets to see the magnificence of this masterful work of art. From time to time, a film comes along that changes the way we look at a specific object, idea, or person; this film does all three. Some of the images and sounds in this film have been burned into my mind forever, and I would love the opportunity to view this film again. Leon's work was, and still is, amazing, and this film showcases a part of his life that exhibits the true essence of rock and roll.

It's a visual poem without any real narrative. It has a few interesting edits but ultimately feels incoherent. This kind of film can be interesting but at an hour and a half it fails to retain the viewers attention.

Your enjoyment of the film will largely depend on your endurance for this kind of film making.

It's an hour and a half of visuals and music with a few interesting moments scattered throughout that ultimately doesn't say much.

The value of this film stems largely from its rarity and not from its content.

For those of you fortunate enough to have been in a situation where Les Blank personally showed his private copy of this film to a group of non-profits, you might get the title joke. Easily Les's least seen film for legal reasons, it is nevertheless one of his best. The film documents the recording period of musician Leon Russell in his Oklahoma recording studio from 1972-1974. The film alternates between vignettes of Leon at his sprawling studio, such as the painting of the mural in his pool, and scenes of local Oklahoma flair, like the great goose flight. While oftentimes it features persons who seem to be there to do nothing but lounge and generally disagree, there are those moments when Leon and his crew actually play music, and those moments are wonderful. It's a shame that Leon refuses to release this film, because it exists as a document of a person in a time that can't be gotten back, yet must be understood. Les is an aging man who may never show his film again so if you come across a situation where it will be shown, go out of your way to see it.