{"id":17835,"date":"2016-03-29T14:52:32","date_gmt":"2016-03-29T18:52:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/?p=17835"},"modified":"2016-03-29T14:52:32","modified_gmt":"2016-03-29T18:52:32","slug":"les-blank-a-poem-is-a-naked-person","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/2016\/03\/29\/les-blank-a-poem-is-a-naked-person\/","title":{"rendered":"Les Blank: A Poem Is a Naked Person<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"
A Poem Is a Naked Person<\/em><\/strong><\/span>\r\nd.\u00a0Les Blank\u00a0(1974)<\/span>\r\nThe Criterion Collection Spine: #805<\/span>\r\nBlu-ray Release Date:\u00a0March 29, 2016 <\/span>\r\n\r\nScreen captures below are taken from The Criterion Collection Blu-ray disc.<\/span><\/pre>\n
In November 2014, The Criterion Collection released a wonderful boxset, Les Blank: Always for Pleasure<\/em>, that contained fourteen of Blank’s documentaries. Prior to immersing myself in that release, I was only vaguely aware of Blank’s work, which I found to be so lovely as it focused on the musical and culinary bonds of small communities. By letting his camera go wherever it wants, honing in on colorful people or dusty streets or a communal meal, Blank captures life’s rhythms. This week, The Criterion Collection follows up that boxset with a release of A Poem\u00a0Is a Naked Person<\/em>,\u00a0Les Blank’s 1972 documentary about musician Leon Russell.<\/p>\n
\"A<\/p>\n
Though he was only 30 years old when this documentary project began in 1972, Russell had been an active musician for over fifteen years, performing in nightclubs around Tulsa, Oklahoma when he was just fourteen. During the 1960s he was a creative presence, whether because he was playing backup or helping\u00a0write,\u00a0in some of the decade’s biggest hits. Consequently, he’s well established as this documentary begins.<\/p>\n
When the documentary begins, we think we might get some of this back story, starting with Russell’s roots. We land in Oklahoma and meet an older couple talking about how much they admire Russell’s talents. The wife even claims her husband is growing out his hair so that he can be more like Russell, something she thinks is very attractive, saying she’s falling in love with her husband all over again.<\/p>\n
\"Leon<\/p>\n
However, rather than give us a back story,\u00a0Blank throws exposition out the window (as he does beautifully in many of his other documentaries). He looks at the homegrown roots, but\u00a0doesn’t delve\u00a0into the past.\u00a0Instead, Blank\u00a0throws us into the moments from 1972 to 1974, showing us the world of Leon Russell by setting us down in the center and letting us form our own connections as we meet, with no real introductions, the various friends, colleagues, and crowds around Russell at this particular moment in his career. By doing this, we get a sense of the Tulsa music scene, which Russell was making famous.<\/p>\n
\"Leon<\/p>\n
A Poem Is a Naked Person<\/em>, then, is about the circle around Russell from 1972 to 1974. We witness live performances from New Orleans and Anaheim as well as a recording session for the album Hank Wilson’s Back<\/em>.<\/p>\n
It’s an interesting bubble, for sure, one I’m happy to see on screen without having to dwell inside it for long. Blank’s hands-free method works beautifully to showcase the carefree feel these folks were feeling at the time. For example, not only do we witness the recording\u00a0sessions, but also a man painting a swimming pool while expounding on letting your kids just be artists<\/em> and an acid trip.<\/p>\n
That Blank’s\u00a0method reflects this proclivity to experiment and indulge —\u00a0and also adds its own strange poetry, like a segment edited in throughout where a chick is placed in a snake’s aquarium and finally consumed —\u00a0could be a big hard to stomach for some. But, again, Blank is not trying to defend or explain anything explicitly. He merely opens the door and let’s us enter these intimate chambers, something Russell himself didn’t appreciate at the time, but more on this below. Today, over forty years later, we can appreciate Blank’s poetry, which to me remains the single greatest aspect of this film, the hook that will bring me back as I try to understand all that the filmmaker was saying while roaming around with a rock star for two years.<\/p>\n
\"Leon<\/p>\n
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The Criterion Collection Edition: Part of the fascinating story of this film is not about Leon Russell at all but rather about the history of the film, which was only first screened publicly in 2015 once Les Blank’s son Harrod Blank was able to untangle all of the legal messes, many created by Russell himself. Sadly, this was only\u00a0after Les Blank died, and because he shows up in this release it’s fair to say that Russell has come around to a film he didn’t, apparently, like that much at first.<\/p>\n