December 2004

The image of the hip black detective played by Richard Roundtree in Gordon Parks’s unforgettable 1971 film, Shaft, precursor to the “blaxploitation” film explosion of the 70s, is inseparable from the brilliant musical soundtrack composed for that movie by Isaac Hayes (“...Shaft is a bad muther—Shut your mouth!”).

Movie musicals are not dead. They didn’t die in the 1930s. Television didn’t kill them. And expensive 1970s flops didn’t knock them out, either. They may have been hibernating or relegated to children’s animated films, but the musical keeps coming back, to haunt or to thrill, depending on your attitude.

While so many of Hollywood’s high-paid actors spend their paychecks on the kind of luxury items the rest of the world only comes in contact with on trashy celebrity television shows, some are emptying their bank accounts and charging up their credit cards like the rest of us—making movies. A rising group of thespians are stepping behind the camera and taking a shot at directing. And their format of choice is increasingly the short film.

The line to see The Last Word at the Minneapolis Oak Street Cinema snakes down the block, splitting in two directions. It’s a pleasing sight, even after a week spent loitering around movie theatres. Of the numerous events I’ve attended, The Last Word (2003) screening has the highest draw. It’s a locally produced independent feature, directed by Tim McCusker and starring former radio personality and Minnesota music champion Mary Lucia and acoustic-pop duo The Flops—Matt Wilson and John Munson (both ex of Minneapolis art-rock band Trip Shakespeare).

I knew Mira Nair’s Vanity Fair was going to be an interesting and challenging project. It was filmed with lots of attention to the visual details, and the sound of the Foley effects—naturalistic sounds recorded to match the action in a scene tracks—would need to be as audibly clean and meticulous as the film is visually stunning.

Dear Doc Doctor:
Many people suggested that I add more narration and music to my documentary, which I did, but now other people are saying there is too much of both. How do I achieve the right balance between image and sound in documentary film?

Marcelo Zarvos is scoring big in the independent film world these days. The thirty-five-year old Brazilian-born Zarvos, who has made New York his home for the past twelve years, has composed music for a handful of independent films, including Tully (2000), Kissing Jessica Stein (2001), and this year’s The Door in the Floor—all award-winning and critically acclaimed.

Stanley Crouch is one of America’s most eloquent and original social critics. In the last three decades, Crouch has published several books and his essays have appeared in numerous national publications including Harper’s and The New Republic. In 1993 he was awarded the MacArthur “genius grant” in recognition of his work.

Although the cinematic possibilities of Hawai’i—those that lay beyond the tropical tropes of tourism and military patriotism— have always been clear to local residents of the island, only recently has there been notable validation of that truth. The sudden abundance of studio work, a new school for multimedia, and the proliferation of local film festivals, are all signs of Hawai’i developing into a vibrant place to make film and video and for local filmmakers to cultivate a strong community.