Given his interest in American cultural history, which was on display in a few earlier Nonesuch releases, Bill Frisell could be expected to look closely at the classic films of Hollywood. Blending composition and improvisation, mixing jazz, blues, country and rock, the Seattle resident invocks his unorthodox sensibility upon two short Buster Keaton silent comedies. The High Sign and One Week, and upon the Great Stone Face's feature film Go West, all from the early 1920's (on separate CDs under the heading of Music For The Films Of Buster Keaton.)
Go West is the most sentimental feature Keaton ever ever made, though its pathos comes heavily streaked with absurdity since the film concerns the love between a hapless man, Friendless, and his cow Brown Eyes. Frisell's thoughtfully shaped guitar seech seems to draw its resonance from the disturbing melancholia of Keaton on the screen. He and his rhythum section propel the film with a loopy sort of menace, playing an ingratiating theme now and again that burroows deep into your subconcious. Like the film's whimsical plot, the artful music never lets you know where it's going next. Frisell wears the master comdian's tragic-comedic mask very well indeed.
Ditto for the second disc. On The High Sign, the tale of a sad sack saving the town penny pincher from bandits, Keaton carefully integrates his gag sequences while Frisell provides incisive sonic commentary on the film's moods, using nervous guitar jangles and irresolutions or a recurring, bittersweet little melody. Despite some heaty laughs, The High Sign just isn't much of a film and Frisell might have been better of taking a lighthearted approach rather than searching for poetic solemnity in the unremarkable visual images. But, then again, the unexpected is the guitarist's specialty. One Week, a vastly superior film, has Keaton methodically constructing his honeymoon cottage from a how-to-do-it kit, following backwards instrutions that result in a screwball angular building that later gets reduced to rubble by a train. Frisell and his alert band give Keaton's character his heroic worth, underscoring the strength of purpose behind his grim demeanor by alternating passages of bluesy, aw-shucks playfulness with serious-minded spatial meditations.
The latter two films, without Frisell's soundtracks, have just appeared on videocassette, from Keno International. Coordinate the VCR and CD player-you'll be glad you did.-Frank-John Hadley |
