A Poem Is a Naked Person

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.

Documentary filmmaker Les Blank turns his attention to the remarkable career and talent of musician, singer, songwriter, producer Leon Russell in this rather scattered and poorly edited doc on his life and career circa mid 70s. Enormously informative on a session player (early pop, Wrecking Crew member) who wrote hits as well as contribute mightily to others with an eclectic array of artists stretching from The Byrds to Frank Sinatra, Barbara Streisand to The Rolling Stones, the enigmatic Russell was indeed a major player in the music scene over his career.

Leaving The Monkees plus Mad Dogs and Englishmen behind, Russell retreats to his Oklahoma studio to record with Blank camera in tow, not only focusing on Russell but the people and culture surrounding as well. Leon an folk deserve better.

Blank's finished product is a disjointed mess held together by the charismatic Russell. Sloppily edited, the down moments are turgid and self indulgent with Russell escaping to the stage to bring the doc life and energy. There are some precious segments (George Jones warbling a tune with a beer, a young [40?] Willie Nelson on stage) but outside of Leon's stirring performances and his truly "blown away" audiences response the film is a cut and paste unkempt doc. Hopefully the future will present a more conscious effort on a man who influenced, Dylan, The Beates and Elton John.

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.

Leon is shown in his element-from a hand-held camera, behind-the-scenes without any adornment or attempt to glamorize the subject. Nevertheless, it comes off as a tribute to his musical power and ability to transfix his audience. George Jones and Willie both contribute songs that are as powerful as Leon. Just great music throughout.

For some reason, Leon held up the film's release for decades. According to the Bill Janovitz bio, Leon objected to a scene of a python eating a baby chick and his proximity in the narrative to this scene. His reservations were unfounded however. He is the Master of Space and Time throughout this great film.

Besides Jones and Willie, a who's who of great Nashville players drift in and out like Pete Drake, David Briggs, Charlie McCoy. Even JJ Cale-another artist on Leon's record label, Shelter-is somewhere in the film, but I couldn't find him.

The director, Les Blank, attempted to make a documentary about Leon Russell and the whole crazy scene he surrounded himself with at the height of his fame. There is a lot of room for error in this type of story, but not here. It all works, especially if you like the music in the first place.

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.