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After Honkytonk Man lays the groundwork, Clint Eastwood's impressionism takes off. Charlie Parker, traveling while standing still with eyes shut behind a saxophone, a complete representation of inner life. The tyke playing a pipe astride a pony in Kansas City, the half-lidded bear inventing musical forms in New York clubs. "Smooth as butter and sweet as a little sister's ass." Forest Whitaker's portrayal is gently haunted, the better to contrast with Diane Venora's sharpness as Chan, who must "hunt for drugs during the day and lead the applause at night." A look at the flourishing bebop scene on a busy Saturday night allows a rare bit of bravura for the filmmaker, a continuous tracking shot floating along with a sidewalk barker and suddenly punctuated by Keith David's roaring laugh. Addiction, anguish, mistresses, a matter of crying over spilled iodine, "a paradox." Dizzy Gillespie (Samuel E. Wright) explains the difference before a black ocean: "I'm a reformer, and you're trying to be a martyr." Pure mood and polish, one of Eastwood's most deeply felt compositions. The artist's vicissitudes, dope bust and dying daughter, a shower of roses in Paris and a clammy bed in Bellevue. The recurring image is Jo Jones' cymbal tossed to rouse teenage Parker out of an improvisation, it sails like a flying saucer through blue smoke. A glimpse of Stravinsky in Hollywood, the muse who cares not for serenity, across the Deep South with "Albino Red" Rodney (Michael Zelniker). Death is a morgue attendant's prophecy fulfilled, 34 going on 65 at a patroness' mansion. "You're so fucking dramatic all the time. You ought to go into show business." Allen takes another tack at the condition in Sweet and Lowdown. Cinematography by Jack N. Green. With Michael McGuire, James Handy, Damon Whitaker, Arlen Dean Snyder, Sam Robards, Hamilton Camp, Bill Cobbs, Jason Bernard, Diane Salinger, John Witherspoon, and Anna Thomson.
--- Fernando F. Croce |