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.

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.

The gist of "Paul Williams Still Alive" (which I caught at its final SXSW screening in Austin this March) is simply this: would-be feature film documentary maker Stephen Kessler was so obsessed with the way the AM-radio hits penned by diminutive 1970s entertainer Paul Williams had made his teen-aged heart go all a-flutter that he decided to make a documentary about Williams -- without even realizing that his "late, great" musical hero was still very much alive!

This is a cinematic concept that should'nt have worked -- but, thank the Pop Culture gods, it did!

Mind you, it never would have come close to passing muster if Williams hadn't kept a veritably complete reference library of his clips on every bad music, comedy, variety, game and chat show that existed during the 70s and 80s. Nor would it have worked if Williams hadn't allowed Kessler full use of that library to reveal the inevitable downhill slide that nearly all of Hollywood's denizens of that time period were prone to follow!

For his part, Kessler reveals himself to be (potentially) the world's worst director of a film like this as well! It's only when he and his childhood hero miraculously find them-selves on "the same page" (courtesy of an encounter with third-world terrorism, of all things!) that the alchemy begins to take place and the hill of Tinseltown dross turns miraculously into a mountain of pure gold!!!

Fans of schlock will be delighted either way, as they roll about ecstatically in the slushy mounds of 70s celebrity offal expelled by the coked-up likes of Robert Blake, Karen Carpenter, Dick Clark, Kermit the Frog, Jack Klugman, Peter Lawford, Tony Randall, Burt Reynolds, Telly Savalas, Barbra Streisand, John Travolta and more!

But more sensitive viewers will find themselves fighting to hold back the tears as the characters refuse to merely remain the two-dimensional "stars" that we enjoyed chuckling derisively at on our little cathode-ray tubes.

Watch in stunned semi-silence as a slack-jawed star-gazer, obsessed with the tear-jerking tune-age that kept his appreciation of Paul Williams from advancing beyond the analytical level of a 12-year-old, metamorphoses into an insightful, savvy observer of character before your very eyes! Shudder in awe as the short-statured subject reveals himself to be more than worth the effort of analyzing!

Whether your personal reference point to Williams is The Muppets ("The Rainbow Connection"), The Carpenters (Rainy Days & Mondays"), or Brian DePalma's midnight movie cult classic "The Phantom of the Paradise", you can trust me at least on one thing about this film: it WILL make you glad that Paul Williams is still alive!

-- Kenneth W. Lieck

As many others my age, I just assumed that Paul Williams had passed away since he was no longer in the public eye. He was everywhere in the 70's. A truly talented songwriter, with a self aware wit, he was an excellent talk show guest. Then he disappeared.

Netflix showed this documentary as a recommendation after I watch the Glen Campbell documentary and I actually think I enjoyed this documentary more.

At first, it was hard to watch as the director came off as stalker-ish and often seemed disinterested when Williams was sharing more poignant aspects of his upbringing, but as the documentary progressed, Wllliams story of addiction, recovery and the discovery of true happiness shone through.

I highly recommend this to anyone who has fond memories of Paul Williams in his hey day. This documentary really shows an interesting perspective on celebrity and what truly brings happiness.

This is a wonderful treat for Paul Williams fans (of which I am one), and it's also a semi-serious portrait of recovery and survival from 1970's celebrity and the excesses that often came with that lifestyle.

My only problem with this film is that the director, Stephen Kessler, a self-professed fan, is a presence in the film the same way Michael Moore often is in his movies. Kessler is likable and it's apparent that the film probably couldn't have been presented without some insight as to how and why he made it (no way he could have been invisible). And some of the film's funniest moments stem from the awkward and sometimes intrusive presence of Kessler and his crew.

But I would have liked a better sense of Kessler as an individual and a passionate fan rather than a challenged documentarian (he's a constant presence but we don't get to know him well enough). His approach also left me wanting a more linear treatment, like that of an A&E Biography; Williams' output was so extensive that much of his career retrospective here seems rushed. Kessler includes a lot of awkward cinema-verite moments, many of which are entertaining, but for me there's not enough coverage of Williams' acting, writing and recording work and I would have liked more focus on that.

Still, I'm grateful that he made the film, and that Mr. Williams was a (sometimes) willing subject.