"Give me Leonard Cohen
afterworld
So I can sigh eternally"
Nirvana
Having been a fan of Leonard
Cohen since the sixties when Judy Collins proclaimed
his genius by covers of "Suzanne," "Sisters of Mercy,"
"Bird on the Wire," etc., I've eagerly anticipated
Lian Lunson's documentary Leonard Cohen: I'm
Your Man. Despite centering around an uneven
2005 tribute concert "Came So Far For Beauty" held
at the Sydney Opera House, the film satisfies best
during brief Cohen interview segments and whenever
Rufus Wainwright or Nick Cave cover his work.
Some "bright" computer graphics
artist came up with the irritating idea of sprinkling
red sparkles throughout the concert to foreshadow
the final number—Cohen's inimitable gravelly rendition
of "Tower of Song" with U2 before a red sequin curtain
in a New York City cabaret. It's good to see the
old guy on stage finally, but what should have been
a true highlight ends up being a letdown--an hour
and a half of foreplay without consummation.
Fortunately, enough entertaining
and illuminating moments remain to make the film
worthwhile. And we are offered tidbits through Cohen's
unsentimental interview segments that are full of
self deprecation and dry humor--best illustrated
when Cohen reads his hilarious new prologue for
a Chinese translation of his 1966 novel Beautiful
Losers:
This is a difficult
book, even in English, if it is taken too seriously.
May I suggest that you skip over the parts you don't
like? Dip into it here and there. Perhaps there
will be a passage, or even a page, that resonates
with your curiosity. After a while, if you are sufficiently
bored or unemployed, you may want to read it from
cover to cover. In any case, I thank you for your
interest in this odd collection of jazz riffs, pop-art
jokes, religious kitsch and muffled prayer are an
interest which indicates, to my thinking, a rather
reckless, though very touching, generosity on your
part.
True to form, Cohen declares
that he's not a nostalgic person. That doesn't prevent
others from expressing glowing tributes, however.
U2 guitarist Edge likens him to Moses descending
from Mt. Sinai with tablets of revelation while
Bono declares, “He is our Shelley; he is our Byron!”
He further elaborates on Cohen's dark romanticism--continuously
seeking Truth and Beauty. Easy to see why Cohen
has generally avoided interviews and feels uncomfortable
with praise. While this hyperbole serves an educational
purpose like a “Leonard Cohen for Dummies” text,
the film would be better served by allowing Cohen's
powerful lyrics to speak for themselves. People
that don't “get” Leonard Cohen will have either
walked out of the theater already or ejected the
DVD anyway.
Indeed, Leonard Cohen songs
loom like giant metaphoric boulders upon the page—timeless
and weighty meditations on love, sex, and spirituality.
Before he turned to pop music, Cohen was a relatively
obscure Canadian poet and author, who carefully
selected his words until they articulated exactly
what he wanted. Even after turning to the more lucrative
venue of music, Cohen remained true to his artistic
temperament, refusing to crank out commercial fare--remaining
true to himself and painfully creating lyrics dredged
from his deepest thoughts and experiences.
Just as high school literature
textbooks reduce Edgar Alan Poe's ideal theme to
"the death of a beautiful woman," many explain Leonard
Cohen's poetry as primarily dealing with how love
and sex lead to a spiritual awakening. So frequent
does this theme emerge that Cohen was once considered
a "ladies man" and even produced an album by that
name; something that Cohen says "caused him to laugh
bitterly during the 10,000 nights I spent alone."
Despite the preponderance of equating sexual love
to the spiritual, this isn't always the case. Cohen
points out that his oft covered “Suzanne” actually
has a more earthly basis—that it was actually about
the wife of a friend, who lived by the river in
Montreal and often served Constant Comment tea.
Sometimes the sex is about sex. He unabashedly reveals
that he was describing a blow job from Janis Joplin
in Chelsea Hotel #2:
I don't mean
to suggest that I loved you the best, I can't keep
track of each fallen robin. I remember you well
in the Chelsea Hotel, That's all, I don't even think
of you that often.
As with any varied tribute concert,
some performances are stronger than others. Channeling
Cohen best are Nick Cave and Rufus Wainwright, who
is seen doing the most songs: “Everybody Knows,” “Chelsea
Hotel #2,” “Hallelujah.” His sister is far less successful
with “The Traitor,” attempting to overpower Cohen's
poetry with animated emotion. But the booby prize
for the worst interpretation goes to Antony for his
overwrought warbling of “If It Be Your Will” like
he was a thin-voiced Joe Cocker. That was a place
I would have liked to see the filmmaker, cut short
and interject an anecdote. Most of the time, it would
be best to just let Cohen's songs deliver without
interruption.
I kept hoping that the Handsome
Family's offering of "Famous Blue Raincoat" would
be included, but alas it's not in the film. Perhaps
the DVD will included the excluded numbers in their
entirety; that would inspire me to add it to my
library. As would any extra feature that would include
more songs performed by Cohen himself. But we should
be grateful that we finally get this offering, as
Cohen has only infrequently entered the public scene
lately. Ten years ago he was ordained as a monk
at the Mount Baldy Zen Center, taking a Dharma name
meaning “Silent One.” At least we have this film
to savor a few good moments.
Yeah my friends
are gone and my hair is grey I ache in the places
where I used to play And I'm crazy for love but
I'm not coming on I'm just paying my rent every
day

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