Much like the world of film, the world of music is often divided and subdivided into smaller and smaller boxes. What was once just “a movie” became a drama or a comedy, only to be faced with more decisions: thriller or adventure, farce or slapstick, slasher or suspense? If anything, the distinctions tend to be even more finely drawn for musicians—a pop star who puts out a jazz album (or vice versa, a worse sin still) will be excoriated before the needle finds the groove.
And yet the best of our films are those that, like life, don’t really recognize genre lines. The Godfather, full of bullets, could never be called a shoot-’em-up. And so it is with music, where the most interesting of the people making it tend not to see where one sound ends and another picks up. These are the people who didn’t listen when told (or, if they were lucky, were never told at all) that they were playing their instrument wrong.
Sandy Bull was one of those people. Over an almost half-century-long career, Bull’s insistently eclectic sensibility—he arranged Carmina Burana for banjo when Bela Fleck was still a toddler—while not a huge commercial success, drew a cultish following that persists today. On Monday night, Northampton’s Pleasant Street Theater welcomes Bull’s daughter KC Bull for a special presentation of No Deposit, No Return Blues, her short documentary about her father and his music.
Particularly adept with stringed instruments, Bull was drawn to the oud—usually thought of as an instrument for Middle Eastern music. Bull’s originality on the instrument is highlighted by the appearance of oud master Hamza El Din, and he spent years melding Arabic influences with his own American inheritance of folk and fingerpicking sounds. But Bull’s music was no mere pastiche; tellingly, the sidemen on his albums include some of the best jazz improvisers of the time.
To put Bull’s life in context, the event will also feature a reading by rock critic Byron Coley and a live performance by three musicians Bull would have been glad to have on hand: Thurston Moore, Kim Gordon and Bill Nace, each of whom has helped carry on the musician’s legacy of genre-crossing and musical honesty. The show starts at 9 p.m.
Also this week: the Pioneer Valley Jewish Film Festival gets up a head of steam as it rolls into its first full week of screenings. With films being shown from Springfield to Shelburne Falls, the PVJFF is never too far away. Get the full schedule at pvjff.org; in the meantime, here are some of this week’s highlights.
In Dror Zahavi’s 2008 drama For My Father, a Palestinian man forced on a suicide mission is given a chance to change his life when his explosive vest malfunctions. Forced to live in Tel Aviv for the weekend—among his supposed enemies—Tarek finds himself connecting with the Israelis fate has thrown in his path. As the weekend winds down, Tarek is faced with a decision that, whatever the answer, will change lives.
Also screening this week is My So-Called Enemy, a look at the Building Bridges for Peace program and its effect on the lives of the young Palestinian and Israeli women who went through it together. In 2002, they were two dozen teenagers still learning about each other’s cultures; the 2010 film follows up with six of them to see how the experience has influenced their last seven years. Also appearing as part of a discussion panel will be Academy Award-winning documentary film-maker Cynthia Wade, a Smith College graduate who worked on the film.
And finally, one cannot help but recommend a Jewish baseball film with a title like The Yankles. (Tag line: “In The Big Inning.”) Billed as a “dramatic comedy,” it’s the story of Charlie, a washed-up and washed-out former pro doing community service for a drunk driving conviction. When he offers to be a volunteer baseball coach, he finds that the only people willing to take him on are the local yeshiva students.
One might imagine that what follows involves some mix of redemption, laughter, and a good schmear. And you’d be right, but you’ll also find a sensitive look at Orthodox life. An added bonus: Don “don’t call me Donny” Most—better known as Ralph Malph of Happy Days fame—costars. A home run.
Jack Brown can be reached at cinemadope@gmail.com.
