Louis Armstrong's Black & Blues

 

King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band

Armstrong with his mother and sister

Armstrong and Lucille

Director Sacha Jenkins

LOUIS ARMSTRONG’S BLACK AND BLUES               B                                                       USA  (106 mi)  2022  d: Sacha Jenkins

My only sin is in my skin, what did I do to be so black and blue.                                     —“(What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue,” Fats Waller, 1929

Sacha Jenkins is an American documentary filmmaker, a pioneering hip-hop journalist and cultural historian who profoundly shaped how hip-hop, graffiti, and black culture has been documented and celebrated, who died a year ago from complications from a rare and progressive neurodegenerative disorder.  Shot by Ed Lachman, this is another film that relies heavily upon archival material, much of it from preeminent Armstrong scholar Ricky Riccardi, director of research collections at the Louis Armstrong House Museum in New Orleans, where throughout his life Armstrong was a prolific writer, avidly tapping out thousands of pages of handwritten notes on stationery from his touring days, writings that explored everything from his musical philosophy to the trauma of Jim Crow segregation.  Lovingly called “Satchmo” or “Pops,” his personal letters reveal an intensely private anger regarding systemic racism, where he frequently bemoaned the indignity of playing in venues and staying at hotels where he, as an internationally celebrated star, was legally prohibited from entering.  In this way, the film offers an interiority of Armstrong that has rarely been known or seen, as we’re so used to seeing the smiling face of his showbiz persona.  Perhaps the biggest surprise, however, and most disappointing, is how the majority of the film accentuates his singing instead of his playing, yet Armstrong is a legendary jazz trumpet or cornet player, especially during his Hot Five or Hot Seven recordings of the 1920’s, where it was staggering how good he was, literally inventing the art of the jazz solo, but never developed that same reputation for his raspy-throated singing, though he is one of the inventors of scat singing.  It’s hugely disappointing, especially considering how accomplished he was so early in his life, standing out above all others, developing a legacy as a founding father of jazz, and one of the first internationally known or recognized stars, serving as a cultural ambassador for the United States.  But in the budding era of television in the 50’s and 60’s, Armstrong was seen on plenty of TV shows, one of the first blacks to be accepted by white audiences, yet he was often seen patronized by white talk show hosts, where he seemed to bear no relation to that earlier version of himself, instead viewed as an Uncle Tom in the radical coming-of-age of the Civil Rights era, where openly defiant civil disobedience became part of the black experience.  At the time of his death in 1971, Armstrong was viewed as one of the most famous black entertainers of all time, which is not the same as being one of the great performers of jazz, one of the first to accentuate the art of improvisation.  

Born in the black Storyville neighborhood of New Orleans, a legalized red-light district where music and entertainment were prominent sidelines, Armstrong spent his youth in poverty, the son of an absent father and a mother who occasionally resorted to prostitution, living in a rough Back o’ Town neighborhood known as The Battlefield, filled with working-class families, gamblers, and hustlers, where as a child he met the great jazz cornet player Bunk Johnson, one of the early pioneers of jazz.  Supposedly, after firing a pistol in the air, he was arrested and sent to what was known as the Colored Waifs Home for Boys, a reformatory where Armstrong developed his cornet skills by playing in the band, marching in parades, and playing music at other venues across the city.  A remarkably self-taught and original musician, Armstrong listened to the early sounds of jazz from bands that played in brothels and dance halls, where he saw King Oliver performing, who soon took him under his wing to become his mentor and teacher.  Oliver sent for him from Chicago to play second cornet in Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band, one of the most influential jazz bands in the early 1920’s, but made sure he always stood at least fifteen feet away so his sound didn’t drown out his solos.  It was there that he met the female pianist Lil Hardin, who he would marry, but she urged Armstrong to come out from under Oliver’s shadow and develop his own style, where he immediately switched to trumpet, suddenly responsible for some of the greatest recordings in jazz history, where it was positively uncanny the amount of talent he displayed between the years of 1925 to 1940, where no other jazz musician was able to transcend the music industry for so long.  World War II seems to be the dividing line in his career, as he was solidly a black entertainer in the earlier years, written about extensively in black newspapers, and mobbed by ardent fans when he walked through black neighborhoods, where he went from being praised as a black cultural hero to being denounced as an Uncle Tom.  Following the war, he became, in effect, a white entertainer, steadily losing his black audience.  The film addresses this situation in the words of Wynton Marsalis, a fellow New Orleans jazz trumpeter who was familiar with the Uncle Tom reputation of Armstrong, which cost him a lot of respect by black musicians who saw that as the worst thing a black artist could do.  It was the father of Marsalis who sent his son a 1928 recording of Armstrong’s West End Blues YouTube (3:16), and it was only when he attempted to emulate the sonic range and meticulous phrasing of the notes that Marsalis realized just how difficult it was, suddenly gaining profound respect for his “electric virtuosity,” claiming “It was not a simple-minded happiness, it was a transcendent joy.”

Perhaps the biggest criticism of the film is just how conventional it is, which is a major distraction, never really distinguishing itself artistically, using a standard format to release lifelong biographical information, mostly told in chronological order, much of it through Armstrong’s own private audio diaries, personal home recordings, and unseen archival footage, as Armstrong was obsessed by reel-to-reel tape recordings, leaving behind about 700 of them, taping conversations with his friends and family, conversations with himself, where he spoke his mind, cursing prolifically on tape, expressing himself in a frank manner, with American hip-hop rapper Nas reading many of his diary entries.  So in effect, it’s a story told by Armstrong himself, as we hear his own personal reflections about the events in his life, suddenly hearing the fomenting anger at the continuing discrimination he faced, revealing a different truth, that he adopted this accommodating persona as a professional survival tool, using it as a shield to mask deep, personal pain.  His frustration with the Eisenhower administration’s inaction during the 1957 Little Rock school integration crisis (The Little Rock Nine) led him to fiercely condemn the President as “two-faced” in recorded interviews. Armstrong learned to demand better treatment for blacks in his business contracts, indicating that if he couldn’t stay there, he wouldn’t play there, offering an avenue to discuss race and racism in a direct and more authentic manner.  To help articulate this point, the late actor Ossie Davis was also inclined to believe Armstrong was pandering to white America, but he shares a personal experience where he learned more about what Armstrong was like behind the scenes, loyal to a fault, and always looking out for those less fortunate, helping out in any way he could, which was often substantial monetary contributions.  White managers and record company executives made a fortune off his talent, as they took heavy percentages of his earnings, denied him royalties, and subjected his bands to devastatingly low pay, where there was little he could do about it, even performing at gunpoint at one point, so he hired a mob-connected white manager, Joe Glaser, to protect his life and stop getting ripped off.  This is the underside of the predominately white music business that he lived through.  Armstrong’s kind demeanor and generosity are explored in depth, living with his beloved fourth wife, Lucille, in a humble Queens home for decades, a simple life free of pretense or grandiosity, where there’s a special warmth in the way he sings one of his signature songs, Louis Armstrong - What A Wonderful World (At The BBC) YouTube (2:24).

Hit Man

 

Director Richard Linklater

Linklater on the set

Linklater with Glen Powell

Linklater directing a scene with Powell and Adria Arjona

Journalist Skip Hollandsworth

HIT MAN                   B+                                                                                                             USA  (115 mi)  2023  ‘Scope  d: Richard Linklater

What Johnson knows, perhaps better than anyone else, is the capability of people, given certain circumstances, to do absolutely savage things to each another.                                                  —Hit Man, Skip Hollandsworth from Texas Monthly, October 2001

While it’s not as funny as the outrageously hilarious Martin McDonagh hit man crime thriller In Bruges (2008), Linklater takes us back into the highly satiric, black comedy crime drama of Bernie (2011), which is largely a love letter to the East Texas region where Linklater grew up, based upon a Skip Hollandsworth article the director read in The Texas Monthly, January 1998, Midnight in the Garden of East Texas.  Hollandsworth, a crime journalist and editor of the magazine, again provided the source material for this film as well, very loosely based on his 2001 Texas Monthly article Hit Man about a man named Gary Johnson (who passed away in 2022), a psychology college professor who moonlighted for the Houston Police Department as a surveillance tech guy, transported here to the city of New Orleans for the movie, adding a few stylish twists, like a setting on Allen Toussaint Boulevard, for instance, complete with brief excerpts of vintage Big Easy songs, music that represents that festive state of mind of the city, as there’s a sly, tongue-in-cheek hilarity in play when Johnson turns into a fake hit man, with Linklater making one of the most joyously entertaining films of his career.  In the 60’s Johnson spent a year in Vietnam as a military policeman overseeing convoys, embarking on a domestic law enforcement career when he returned home, starting as a sheriff’s deputy in Louisiana in the 1970’s, performing undercover work related to drug busts.  His real interest, however, was teaching college psychology, moving to Houston in 1981, but was rejected in the psychology doctoral program, instead taking a job as an investigator for the district attorney’s office, going undercover when the police received a tip that a woman was plotting to kill her husband.  Dressed as a biker, using a fake name and identity, while wired for sound, he posed as a hit man for hire, getting the woman to confess to her intentions, making an arrest after receiving an initial down payment, where she was eventually sentenced to 80 years in prison, the first of literally hundreds of murder-for-hire sting operations (most turned out to be unfounded) that led to more than 60 arrests.  The surprising aspect is that most come from people with no criminal background, ordinary law-abiding citizens with no run-ins with the law, yet looking for a quick fix to eliminate the source of their frustrations, revealing an underbelly of pent-up anger that reflects the current state of a nation teetering on the edge of violence.  Linklater turns this into a hilarious screwball comedy costume drama, as Johnson, played by co-writer and co-producer Glen Powell from Everybody Wants Some !! (2016), expertly changes his personality and uses various disguises (à la Jerry Lewis) custom designed to cater to the interests of each specific client.  Powell is an Austin, Texas actor Linklater first started working with in FAST FOOD NATION (2006) when he was still in high school, but he lights up the screen here, exhibiting extreme confidence in being ruthless, displaying phenomenal range as an actor, yet also a knack for improvising on the spot, Hit Man - Official Clip (2024) Glen Powell, Adria Arjona | IGN ... YouTube (1:14), continually probing different levels of his character, where a montage of these scenes is typically followed by a dopey looking mug shot of the perpetrators after the arrest.     

Johnson is seen as a nerdy, introverted guy who simply doesn’t stand out, as he lives alone with a goldfish and two cats (Ego and Id), leading a quiet life, often seen bird watching or working in his garden, seemingly comfortable with who he is, as he reads Shakespeare, books on Carl Jung, and even Gandhi, with his neighbors reporting he’s always polite.  In his classroom, his philosophic teachings are about identity, weaving together lectures on Freud and Nietzsche and the nature of the self, questioning who you are and how you can transform yourself into a better version of yourself, encouraging them to get out of their shells and “live dangerously,” which is ironic as the students view him as this utterly conventional guy driving a Honda Civic, so completely forgettable that he’s nearly invisible, the complete opposite of a man of action.  His first marriage failed because he was just too boring, though he and his ex-wife continue to maintain a close friendship as they share common interests.  In the undercover work that he performs, he’s the guy sitting in the van ensuring that the mics work for surveillance, providing the necessary recording tapes that can be used in court.  But this all changes when Jasper (Austin Amello, also from Everybody Wants Some !!), the dirty undercover cop who is normally sent in on these operations, gets suspended for questionable on-duty behavior, as video of him pummeling teenagers has gone viral, showing no remorse afterwards, believing they deserved it, so Gary is essentially forced into the role of meeting with the suspect.  Rather than avoid responsibility or passively shirk from his duties, he immediately transforms into this edgy persona, calling himself Ron the hit man, willing to do whatever the situation calls for.  Of course, his job is to convince the suspect that he’s professionally qualified to discreetly handle the dirty work, setting their mind at ease, playing into their fantasies, as he’s simply the guy who can get things done.  His coworkers are shocked at what they hear, hard to believe it’s the same guy, as he expresses a vigorous sense of urgency, easily adopting the tough guy language each situation calls for, something that seemingly only happens in the movies.  Think Humphrey Bogart or Robert Mitchum, where they are smooth talkers who exude masculinity, willing to back up their threats or promises with results.  After a string of arrests, he’s the new police darling, the exact opposite of Jasper’s shortcomings, who’s an embarrassment to the force, while Ron is making them all look good.  Even when Jasper returns, he’s relegated to a supporting role, as Ron is just too good to be true and they don’t want to break his streak.  Jasper, of course, is pissed, and continually looks for an opportunity to undermine him, but Ron is a smooth operator who’s like a chameleon, as he simply transforms himself into whatever’s needed, telling them what they want to hear, talking the same language of his suspects, so relaxed and self-assured, blending perfectly into the scenery of a would-be hit man.  Even the students in his classroom notice the transformation, as he’s suddenly cool and captivating, where his newfound charisma becomes the talk of the school.  

The film goes off the rails when one suspect, a terrified woman caught up in an abusive marriage with an over-controlling husband she wants to escape from, is a former beauty queen, Madison (Adria Arjona), that Ron steers away from making her confession, actually convincing her to change her mind, urging her to leave her husband, to take the money and start a new life, a sympathetic switcheroo that immediately captures the attention of his coworkers, especially Jasper, who finds it such a rookie move, and so unprofessional.  But what stands out is the chemistry between them (“Chivalry may be dead, but I didn't kill it.”), as not long afterwards a steamy relationship ensues between them, which is the way she chooses to celebrate her newfound freedom, veering into the same territory as Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity (1944) or Lawrence Kasdan’s Body Heat (1981), where you keep waiting for the double cross.  Her intoxicating sexuality brings out the best in Ron, as she exudes the femme fatale sexuality in so many crime stories, where she may actually be role-playing herself, while Gary is equally surprised by the sudden machismo coming from Ron, making him do things he wouldn’t ordinarily do, yet both make a convincing couple as things get more complicated and dangerous.  When they accidently run into her ex-husband Ray (Evan Holtzman) on the street, a violent confrontation leads to immediate threats, causing Ron to pull out a gun and stick it in his face, causing him to back off, a move that positively thrills Madison, who claims no one has ever stuck up for her like that before, leading to more bedroom seduction titillation, entering even more murky waters as we go down the road of a film noir landscape.  However, when you look at Gary back in the precinct, he’s just an ordinary guy that could easily be mistaken as an office clerk, where nothing leads you to believe what he does for a living.  This split personality that results from his continued role-playing becomes part of his existential dilemma, amusingly expressed in his ongoing voiceover narration, as he’s trying to figure out who he actually is, wondering which version will prevail.  Pondering his own identity mirrors what he teaches in class, embracing what Jung describes as his “shadow side,” but the wigs, changing accents, and multiple identities he employs add an uncommon element to this film, as we never really know what to expect, with photos of real-world disguises used by Johnson shown over the final credits, making very clear what was made up, taking some surprising turns that he was to twist his way out of, like some mythical labrynthian puzzle.  Mixing crime, romance, and comedy, Linklater, one of the more influential directors of American independent cinema, always has such a keen sense of telling original stories in a touching and humorous way, and seems to be having a blast with this film, a throwback to the feelgood movies that Paul Newman and Robert Redford used to make, where he ends up channeling Frank Capra’s ARSENIC AND OLD LACE (1944), having an infectious quality that is hard not to like, doing what few films can do, blending intelligence with a clever flair for the absurd, told with a comic panache that is a constant delight.