Tender Mercies

 

Palmer, Texas

farmhouse as it is today, just East of Waxahachie

 

Director Bruce Beresford

Duvall winning a Best Actor Academy Award

TENDER MERCIES          A                                                                                                  USA  (92 mi)  1983  d: Bruce Beresford

You see, I don’t trust happiness.   I never did.  I never will.                                                         —Max Sledge (Robert Duvall)

With the recent death of actor Robert Duvall, who died of natural causes in February at the age of 95, it’s worth remembering the one role that won him an Academy Award for Best Actor, as it’s a throwback to gentler times, where his hugely understated presence infuses the film with a quiet simplicity in this organically realized redemption story about the price of fame, the devastating destruction of the bottle, and the will to recover from horrendous mistakes in life.  Completely unpretentious, never offering any easy resolutions, nothing is ever taken for granted, as each day matters in the road to recovery.  Not nearly as well known as it deserves to be, curiously turned down by David Lynch after he made ELEPHANT MAN (1980), thinking he wasn’t right for the film, it’s aptly named, written by Texas native Horton Foote, a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright who won an Academy Award for the lyrical screenplay, having won the same award for his earlier adaptation of Harper Lee’s novel in To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), with Foote developing a reputation for evoking everyday American life in beautifully observed minimal stories that allow the actors to shine, as Gregory Peck also won an Academy Award for his role as Atticus Finch in Lee’s legendary novel, one of the most beloved roles in American cinema, and a film where Duvall makes his first screen presence as the reclusive and pathologically shy Boo Radley.  Foote and Duvall were good friends spanning five decades, with Duvall reading a letter honoring their friendship at Foote’s funeral in 2009 (Remembering Robert Duvall and Horton Foote).  Duvall is known for his larger-than-life presence in Francis Ford Coppola’s APOCALYPSE NOW (1978), uttering the infamous line, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning,” and will always be associated as the level-headed consigliere in Coppola’s THE GODFATHER (1972), where his favorite role, according to interviews, was playing an ex-Texas Ranger in Lonesome Dove — TV mini-series (1989), but it is here that he really carves out a distinctive place in his career, as this is a quieter, more reserved performance, defined by stifled emotions and the decency of the human spirit, listed at #14 of Premiere magazine’s 100 Greatest Movie Performances of All Time.  Described by film critic Pauline Kael as a “bare-bones ‘art’ movie,” intentionally avoiding big grandiose scenes, even the use of close-ups, instead filming from a respectful distance, this is a spare depiction of rural Southern life where not much ever happens, filled with long silences and the dialed-down poetry of spoken words, a reminder of simpler times where honesty prevails, having a neighborly respect for others, and above all, an effortless display of human kindness.  Very few films are able to achieve the authenticity established here, not just in the immensity of the empty landscapes, but in the personal connections, as we’ve lost this ability to connect on such an intensely personal level, where this becomes a beautiful portrait of the human spirit.

Robert Duvall stars as a washed-up country singer Mac Sledge, a star who’s fallen on hard times, almost always seen wearing a Stetson hat, an alcoholic estranged from his family who has hit rock bottom at the beginning of the film, seen as just a shadow through the window, where all we hear are the violent voices and sounds taking place behind closed doors in a remote country gas station motel on an isolated stretch of highway, with Mac eventually sleeping off a two day bender, finding himself completely broke and unable to pay for his lodging, so he asks motel owner Rosa Lee (Tess Harper in her first screen role), if he can work off his debt, which she kindly agrees to, but only with the stipulation that no alcohol is allowed while working.  Widowed at a young age, she lost her high school sweetheart husband during the Vietnam War, which looms in the background like a ghost, leaving her to raise her young son alone, a child who never knew his father.  Surprisingly, Mac ends up sticking around for months, working for his room and board, with a small salary thrown in, literally disappearing off the face of the earth, with no one knowing where he’d gone, where that anonymity seems to help him come to his senses, regain some semblance of stability, and recover from his own largely self-inflicted personal tragedies.  Like a safe port in a storm, they end up getting married (entirely offscreen, even the proposal), but he still struggles with his demons while haunted by his past, as we’re not even aware he was once a major star until well into the picture.  Country music is a thread that runs through this movie, something the studio executives failed to comprehend, eventually losing faith in the film, failing to understand what it was about and how the music connects to what was at that time a massive unidentified audience, providing few resources to promote it, but country star Willie Nelson was impressed by the authenticity of Duvall’s performance and offered to step in to help promote it.  Most importantly, co-producer Robert Duvall wrote some of the songs he sings in the film and does all his own singing, feeling a genuine connection to the character, which is why it works so well.  Authenticity is the key, something movie studios today still have a hard time understanding, producing very few films that fit that criteria.  The film helped define the American independent film movement of the 1980’s by initiating a trend of personal filmmaking that often looks beyond Hollywood conventions.  Emblematic of that is an early scene with Mac playing a song for Rosa Lee’s son Sonny (Allan Hubbard, who never made another film) in the kitchen, which is remarkably minimalistic, yet rooted in something we all universally understand, Tender Mercies Scene YouTube (2:07).   

The relatively barren locations are perhaps more reflective of West Texas, taking place on a little desolate stretch of flat land, yet the film was mostly shot in and around Waxahachie and Palmer in north central Texas by Australian cinematographer Russell Boyd, who has the distinction of shooting one of the most beautiful films ever made, Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975), while the film is directed by fellow Aussie Bruce Beresford, whose groundbreaking war drama BREAKER MORANT (1980) helped usher in an Australian New Wave, so it may come as a surprise to some that an Australian is able to so eloquently capture the poetic nuances of small-town America, yet that is what truly elevates this film over so many others.  Perhaps the only other film that gets the unique distinctiveness of the South right, particularly Texas, is Peter Bogdanovich’s The Last Picture Show (1971), which was adapted by Larry McMurtry from his own novel, though the Truman Capote autobiographical adaptation of David Perry’s A Christmas Memory - made for TV (1966) captures the subtle nuances of small-town life in rural Alabama.  Tess Harper was raised as rural and working class herself, coming from the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas, providing just the right touch of firmness, grace, and mercy, with an ever-observant eye, always watching over others.  The film has a stripped down, almost raw feel to the narrative, taking its time, only revealing what’s essential, as so much is expressed by what is left unsaid, where every scene feels valued, contributing to the overall build-up of the interior realms of the characters.  With its themes of sin and redemption, forgiveness, hope, and personal transformation through religious faith, some may recognize this as a religious movie, as it also speaks to the power of prayer, which is where the title comes from, with the kind-hearted frontier woman Rosa Lee, a devout Christian, revealing, “Each night when I say my prayers I thank God for his tender mercies,” which is simply a wonderful revelation, whether it has religious intent or not.  The church also figures prominently, as the family attends a Baptist church on a regular basis, accentuating the singing of the hymns and the idea of baptism (the visual expression of baptism by immersion is rare in films), where it eludes to the possibility of being reborn in the spirit of the Lord.  God does not protect us from the inevitable pains and sufferings of life, but he knowingly sends the “tender mercies” that somehow make life worth living, regardless of the circumstances.  Most people do not recognize this as a religious movie, but to those who see it that way, this is a profoundly powerful film, as religious a movie as you could ever find, as it speaks of God in an unusually secular way, yet is also fundamentally human, expressing the stirrings of love in an existential sense.

Initially released in only a handful of theaters, coinciding with the early days of MTV, which is diametrically opposite to what this represents, it was a box office dud until word of mouth spread, as critics who saw it provided enthusiastic reviews.  While it’s rare for movies to portray rural characters as complex human beings, the back story revolves around Mac’s embittered ex-wife, Dixie (Tony Award winning actress/singer Betty Buckley), who became famous singing Mac’s songs, Betty Buckley from "Tender Mercies" singing "Over You YouTube (3:59), the first country single to be nominated for an Oscar, with Wilford Brimley as her over-protective manager Harry, but their contentious divorce-filled allegations of alcohol-fueled violence left their daughter in limbo, with Dixie refusing to allow Mac to see or speak to her as she grew up.  Now that she’s reached the age of 18, Sue Ann (the wonderful Ellen Barkin sparkles in a very early role) can decide for herself, as their worlds intersect briefly when she pays him a visit, a girl he barely knows, where she remembers a song he sang to her at night, but she can’t quite remember it.  Taken by surprise, Mac doesn’t either, but the moment she leaves he’s seen alone at a window with his back to the camera quietly remembering the song in what may be the film’s most poignant moment, with the song carrying the central theme of the movie, “On the wings of a snow white dove, God sends his pure, sweet love,” Tender Mercies (1983) - “A Song You Used To Sing To Me ... YouTube (2:59).  With the encouragement of a band of local kids who idolize him, Mac makes a comeback, of sorts, balancing the sacred and the profane, singing with them in a honky tonk bar, Clip from "Tender Mercies (1983)" YouTube (3:22).  The film deals with a constant refrain of “champagne ladies” and “broken dreams,” the subjects of his old songs, but also paints a picture of how much it hurts to face reality, expressing the pain of mortality, where nothing can explain the sudden loss of life of a loved one, especially a child, as there is so much meaning packed into such a devastating loss, where there are simply no words that can fill the empty hole in one’s heart, but love may be the closest thing we have, in all its forms and permutations, with real emotion literally filling the screen in the haunting final moments when reality comes crashing into our lives in the most unexpected way, Scenes & End Credits from "Tender Mercies (1983)" YouTube (4:31).  The final musical ballad, the Craig Bickhardt song You Are What Love Means to Me YouTube (4:11), which takes the film to the end credits, feels surprisingly commercial and out of place, completely altering the tone of bare essentials and stripped-down authenticity, though the lyrics do fit the story.  Still, it may be the film’s only misfire.  Mac comes to embody a second chance in life, whose redemptive arc is largely a symbol of a possible resolution to the American chaos and disorder inherited from the 60’s and 70’s, yet despite the anguish and grief associated with death, where there’s no clear answer or road map, love prevails, in all its simplicity and grace, as in the end that’s all we really have to fill the void of meaninglessness. 

Priscilla

 

Director Sofia Coppola

Cailee Spaeny with Best Actress prize from Venice

Elvis and Priscilla

Coppola on the set with Spaeny and Jacob Elordi

Sofia Coppola with Priscilla Presley

PRISCILLA               B+                                                                                                             USA  Italy  (113 mi)  2023  d: Sofia Coppola

I wanted to write about love and precious, wonderful moments and ones filled with grief and disappointments, about a man’s triumphs and defeats, much of it with a child-woman at his side, feeling and experiencing his pain and joys as if they were one.

—Priscilla Presley, from the epilogue of Elvis and Me, 1985

Sofia Coppola is an acquired taste, and not everyone gets her, including yours truly, where her career has largely been viewed as a series of hits or misses, with Lost in Translation (2002), Somewhere (2010), and now this film remaining the most successful examples of her highly personalized, semi-autobiographical style.  Yet do we really need another Elvis story, coming so soon after Baz Luhrmann’s ELVIS (2022)?  Probably not, but with each of these directors you’re likely to get a mystifyingly unique take on a familiar subject.  Having grown up in the era of Elvis, seeing him plastered on magazine covers, he was the Hollywood matinee idol in the music world, yet his celebrity status was elevated beyond comprehension.  And that’s where Coppola comes in, as that’s a world she not only knows but is intimately familiar with in ways the rest of us aren’t.  So perhaps she’s as good as anyone to guide us through this journey.  The beauty of this film is it’s not really about Elvis, who is a gargantuan force, obviously, but purely secondary, as the entire film, literally every moment, is seen through the young and impressionable eyes of Priscilla, who remains starstruck by the powerful presence and superstar power of a man who is ten years older, already known as the King, an icon in the music industry, one of the most popular and influential artists of the 20th century, where his popularity was unprecedented, providing an almost fairy tale existence of wealth beyond her wildest dreams, where this becomes a Beauty and the Beast saga.  Unlike Coppola’s MARIE ANTOINETTE (2006), which was dripping with artificiality, this is a fairly realistic but minimalist portrayal, providing an exclusive look at what went on behind the scenes, confining much of the story to the bedroom, living room, and other private quarters, where so much of it takes place in the dark, shutting out the outside world, which is a fitting metaphor for the cloistered isolation of fame, where her suffocating marriage is viewed as a gilded cage, becoming something of a metaphorical prison.  Adapted from Priscilla Presley’s 1985 memoir Elvis and Me (co-written with Sandra Harmon), she is listed as an executive producer, though the film does not have the support of the rest of Presley’s family, which denied the rights to any of his music, though early in the film an instrumental version of “Love Me Tender” can be heard.  Nonetheless, at the Venice Film Festival premiere, Priscilla was reduced to tears while the film received a 7-minute standing ovation.  Coppola simply doesn’t make films like anybody else, where each is a unique experience, giving viewers an opportunity to experience the familiar with a new awareness, as this is a much different perspective on both Elvis and Priscilla, providing an intimate and unflinching human portrait, recalling another famous figure in Pablo Larraín’s Jackie (2016), yet Coppola’s restrained and thoroughly impressionable style can be confounding to viewers who expect a coherent storyline, or a recognizable biographical timeline, where this is a quieter and more understated character study that is essentially a love story, with a killer soundtrack that couldn’t be more mesmerizing, providing a poetic, internalized narrative, while the personalized nature of the subject matter is unmistakable. 

While Lisa Marie Presley (who died from a heart attack earlier this year), the only child of Elvis and Priscilla Presley, praised the Baz Luhrmann film that earned close to $300 million dollars worldwide, which explored the relationship between Elvis and his longtime manager Colonel Tom Parker, she had nothing but scorn for Coppola’s script, revealed in exchanged emails with the director, claiming “My father only comes across as a predator and manipulative.  As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character.  I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father.  I read this and see your shockingly vengeful and contemptuous perspective and I don’t understand why?”  However she died before ever seeing the film, though it was not likely to change her view, as she was the sole executor of the Presley estate and extremely protective of her father’s legacy.  Priscilla Presley, on the other hand, was free to express her own life without any restrictions or limitations, and praised Coppola’s film for its realism.  Her book was actually dedicated to Lisa Marie, and was a #1 New York Times bestseller, yet the content of the film that Lisa Marie found so objectionable originated in her mother’s autobiographical book, as there’s nothing fictitiously added in Coppola’s version that’s not found in the book.  One unmistakable connection exists between Lisa Marie Presley and Sofia Coppola, as they are both daughters of famous celebrities.  All of that is a curious backdrop to the film, where what’s perhaps the most surprising is the age of Priscilla (Cailee Spaeny) when she first met Elvis (Jacob Elordi) at a party, as she was only 14, and in 9th grade, while he was the biggest rock star in the world, with Elvis acknowledging “Why, you’re just a baby.”  How do you discreetly address the rock ‘n’ roll dilemma of grown men romancing young school girls?  Chuck Berry, Muddy Waters, the Grateful Dead, and dozens of others regularly performed the sexist blues standard “Good Morning Little School Girl” and no one blinked an eye.   When Jerry Lee Lewis married his 13-year old cousin, it caused an uproar, but he continued recording well into his 70’s.  While this is an unsettling reminder of how often “little school girls” are on the periphery of pop music, a troublesome aspect of the male-dominated music industry, Coppola’s film doesn’t shy away from it, with Presley even seen performing Lewis’s signature number Jerry Lee Lewis -Whole Lotta Shakin Going On (Live 1964) YouTube (7:02) at a party, but she also doesn’t moralize over what was obviously a more accepted practice at the time.  Instead she chooses a different way to present the story, where it all unfolds like a dream, with inescapable realities that suggest problematic behavior, but others have gone down that same road as Elvis who died at the age of 42 after struggling with a decades-long substance abuse problem, which worsened in the years leading up to his death, where celebrity status leads to pills, drugs, or alcohol, and a fractured reality, where the history of rock ‘n’ roll is littered with the dead bodies of male and female legends who died before their time.

Set in 1959 near a U.S. military base in Germany, Elvis was drafted into the Army near the peak of his fame, while Priscilla’s stepfather was a career officer, U.S. Air Force Captain Beaulieu (Ari Cohen).  Having grown up in Texas, when we first meet Priscilla she is an overly shy yet pretty girl who is used to being unsettled, unhappily moving from base to base every few years, now finding herself on the other side of the world, much like Coppola moving from movie set to movie set during her childhood, going to different schools in different towns, attending kindergarten in the Philippines during the extended shooting of APOCALYPSE NOW (1979).  While sitting in a local diner catering to American military families, listening to Frankie Avalon’s “Venus,” Frankie Avalon - Venus (1959) 4K YouTube (2:25), she is approached by an Air Force serviceman who asked if she liked Elvis Presley, as he and his wife would be attending a Presley party at his home this weekend and asked if she’d like to come along, assuring her family that he’d be her chaperone.  This simple gesture started it all, literally plucked from obscurity, finding it hard to believe she’d make any kind of impression on a man so famous, but he’s immediately taken by her beauty and innocence, asking a lot of questions about what kind of music the kids back home listen to these days, sharing a first kiss, where she is positively enthralled he actually “liked” her and wanted to see her again.  Unable to concentrate in school the next day, Coppola’s impeccable musical choice is Tommy James and the Shondells - Crimson & Clover - YouTube (3:25), with love blossoming in the air (“Now I don’t hardly know her, but I think I could love her”), as Priscilla is seen with a slight smile on her face as she gracefully walks through the high school corridor as if on a cloud.  And the dream has begun.  According to Priscilla during a Venice Film Festival press conference, “Elvis would pour his heart out to me in every way in Germany: his fears, his hopes, the loss of his mother—which he never ever got over.  And I was the person who really, really sat there to listen and to comfort him.  That was really our connection.”  After regularly seeing each other, developing more than an infatuation, though always playing a passive, subordinate role, she’s positively heartbroken when his tour of duty is over and he returns to the States, as despite his many promises, she doesn’t hear from him again in years, thinking he’s forgotten all about her while she follows his budding movie career in all the magazines, including the much publicized affairs with his female costars.  Then suddenly out of the blue, he calls and wants her to visit his Memphis estate in Graceland, sending her airfare, welcomed by his friends and business associates, where the luxuriousness of the massive estate is hard to even imagine, but they take a side detour to Las Vegas where he introduces her to his prescription pills, amphetamines (Dexedrine) and barbiturates (Placidyls), uppers and downers that he initially stole from his mother (who was trying to lose weight) when he was in high school, the same lethal combination that led to the substance abuse problems of country singer Johnny Cash, which is something he regularly utilizes to get through the punishing work schedule arranged by his manager, Colonel Tom Parker (who is never shown onscreen).  When she returns back from her visit, she looks like a ghost of her former self, sending red flags to her parents, but Elvis convinces them to allow her to live with his family and staff at Graceland, while promising her parents she will enroll in Catholic school to complete her senior year, where she becomes an object of fascination to the other students.   

Incredulously, Priscilla’s drug use continues, taking a pill each morning before school, which may help get her through the day, but her concentration and mental focus is lost in the fog, leaving her scraping by just trying to graduate, resorting to unethical means (cheating) to do so, while the unorthodox nature of her relationship stands out, with a domineering partner who has an overcontrolling nature and a vicious temper problem, as Priscilla wasn’t allowed to work or have outside interests, but was required to be at home when he “needed” her, even as he was away for weeks or months at a time.  Elvis picked out her wardrobe, make-up, and hairstyle, refusing to allow her input, actually threatening to send her back to her parents when she disagreed, reducing her to tears, even doing her packing before relenting and reminding her how lucky she was to be with him, as any woman in America would love to be in her place.  Part of his celebrity mystique is women threw themselves at him, sent him love letters, and willingly offered themselves in the wild chance that he might agree.  While Elvis projected himself as a sex symbol and free spirit, he was extraordinarily conservative, believing the male was the stronger sex and that women needed to know their place, insisting that she needed to remain faithful to him even while he engaged in multiple affairs.  He was obsessed with firearms and loved to take target practice on the premises, providing Priscilla with a matching pistol for each dress.  What’s most evident is that Elvis was a grown-up kid, enjoying playing pranks, roughhousing, and hanging out with the guys, surrounding himself with a circle of friends who showed blind allegiance (his all-male entourage was nicknamed the Memphis Mafia), where he was always allowed to get his way, growing furious with her if she showed any signs of resistance, while denying all rumors of sexual romances with other movie stars he worked with, especially Ann Margaret, despite the saturated headlines in all the magazines and newspapers.  To his credit, he could be very persuasive, where his sweet talk could be utterly charming, and she could fall under his spell, with the euphoria of their marriage evoking a musical reference to the outlaw lovers in Terrence Malick’s BADLANDS (1973), Badlands • Gassenhauer • Carl Orff YouTube (2:50).  While much of this sounds manipulative and controlling, there can be no doubt that they also loved each other, where the film follows the dozen or so years they spent together, told with an extraordinary tenderness, paying closer attention to the various stages of female adolescence and young adulthood, which is what attracted Coppola to the material, as this mirrors her own transition into womanhood.  Coppola’s marriage dissolved during the making of Lost in Translation, while the inevitable train wreck of Priscilla’s marital purgatory also comes to an end, where her boxed-in powerlessness is replaced by separate lives and a world of new opportunities, moving to Los Angeles in her late twenties to celebrate her newly discovered independence, finally empowered to act on her own, beautifully expressed by Santana’s Oye Como Va YouTube (4:17) with the palm trees lining the roadway, yet what stands out is the resolve it took to leave such a powerful man who completely transformed her life.  Cailee Spaeny is onscreen in nearly every shot, awarded the Best Actress prize at the Venice Film Festival, where her mostly subdued and understated performance resonates, especially when compared to the more volatile emotional mix that was Elvis, yet the coup de grâce is the finale, where the inspired choice is Dolly Parton’s transcendent vision, Dolly Parton - I Will Always Love You (Official Audio) YouTube (2:55), supposedly the song Elvis sang to Priscilla after the completion of their divorce, leaving viewers utterly transfixed by the experience.