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Shaggy dog biting the hand that feeds: Randy Newman at The Palladium in Carmel, Indiana
Randy Newman (All photos by Don Sexton)
The first concert I ever attended (at least that I remember) was when my parents took this eighth grader to see Bobby McFerrin at the much-vaunted Holidome in Crown Point, Indiana. Just take a moment and let that sentence settle in … and try to contain your envy. Yes, some kids in the late 80s went to see Madonna or Aerosmith or MC Hammer or New Kids on the Block, but for me it was Bobby McFerrin all the way. And this was before "Don't Worry, Be Happy." So there.
The show was in the round, with just McFerrin and maybe a piano. I can't recall. But with his phenomenal, otherworldly musicality, he rattled (largely acapella) through two hours of amazing numbers, not to mention his complete re-creation of the entire film The Wizard of Oz, including that iconic "I'm melting!" bit.
Flash forward, nearly 30 years (sigh), and I find myself yet again riding along in the backseat of my parents' car, on our way to see another Baby Boomer mainstay Randy Newman, this time in Indianapolis. Nothing takes you back to the feeling of being a child like riding in the backseat of your parents' car on a long car trip – that intoxicating mix of comfort and powerlessness as you cruise down the road listening to the squabbling and the laughter, to music you don't recognize and familial history references you do. I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything.
So it is with this context that we took in Newman's concert at Carmel, Indiana's palatial music hall, the Palladium at the Center for Performing Arts. Such a musical hall Indiana has never before seen – a concert venue that looks like it was designed by M.C. Escher, if overdosed with Benzedrine by Liberace's hairdresser, after visiting the Palace of Versailles or Disneyland's "Hall of Presidents." It really is beautiful and strange, with a byzantine entrance and egress system that made me feel like I was playing Milton Bradley's Mousetrap.
However, there isn't a bad seat in the house (nor a reasonably priced one), with Phantom of the Opera-esque box seats at every turn, polished cherry and marble floors, phenomenal acoustics and lighting, and super-cushy chairs.
As we sat there taking in the opulence, Newman lumbered on stage, after a loving introduction by Michael Feinstein himself. You see, Feinstein, a Columbus, Ohio native, helped get the Center established five or so years ago, alongside his husband Terrence Flannery, as a permanent monument to the Great American Songbook and to our musical theater traditions. The space also houses The Great American Songbook Foundation, which is very much worth visiting if you have some time to spare before a show there. They are great about arranging tours.
Roy and Susie waiting for the big show
For over two hours, it was just Newman, his piano, and a very responsive audience. Newman isn't quite the showman that McFerrin was/is – likely an unfair comparison since they're such different artists, and I am judging them across a divide of 30 years. Ah well.
But what Newman lacked in showmanship, he made up in shaggy charm. He would periodically play wrong notes, stop, look up at the audience, shake his head, and say things like, "I never was a very good pianist." Then, he would dive back into plunking out notes for many of his signature songs like "I Love L.A.," "Short People," "You Can Leave Your Hat On," and "Mama Told Me Not to Come."
A highlight for me was his performance of "Love Story (You and Me)," a Newman tune covered previously by artists as diverse as Harry Nilsson, Lena Horne, and Harry Belafonte. The song is a poignant charmer and has not aged a bit. Newman delivered it with aplomb, his frogs-and-molasses voice the perfect accent to the song's lilting, loping melody.
Newman peppered his set-list, which pretty much seemed made up as he went along, with anecdotes about his life as a child of Los Angeles, as a child of the 60s, and as a child of a movie soundtrack dynasty (he is the nephew of acclaimed film composers Alfred and Lionel Newman and the cousin of Thomas Newman). The casual vibe he affected was on the whole delightful, though a bit more preparation and variety would have benefited the slow-going second act.
An artist of Newman's caliber with such an accomplished history in pop, theater, and movie music is pretty much just going to do whatever the hell he wants, so that's just fine. It is unlikely he will come this way again, so we are grateful we got the chance to see him.
Newman at piano
I never realized just how many songs the man has written about cities and/or states: Baltimore, Los Angeles, Birmingham, Louisiana. And he performed them all. They follow a similar formula, with snarky verses that alternate with hypnotic repetition of said geography's name. He worked in a wink and a nod to his Hoosier hosts, noodling through "On the Banks of the Wabash" and "Back Home Again in Indiana," at one point looking around the beautiful Palladium and cheekily observing, "What a dump."
His show was riddled with his caustic takes on religion and politics, government and capitalism. That was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise conservative community, so I'm sure a few spiky letters to the editor will arrive at the Indianapolis Star this week.
Yet, if he had really wanted to drive a stake through the heartland, he should have played one of my personal favorites, his theme "That'll Do" from Babe: Pig in the City. While originally sung by Peter Gabriel, their voices are rather interchangeable at this point, so I think Newman delivering this subtle ode to kindness and to compassion and, well, to pigs would have been the perfect punctuation mark on his performance in factory farming Indiana (sad example here). We thought about shouting the title "That'll Do" (like some rowdy concert-goers shouted "Free Bird" when I saw Tracy Chapman at the Wabash College Chapel years ago), but then we realized he might misunderstand, think we were telling him he was done for the evening, and then walk off stage.
Newman, ever the iconoclast, also worked in his shots at corporate giant Disney, letting us know in no uncertain terms, that while he has appreciated the opportunity, he hasn't always been thrilled with the artistic limitations imposed. In a funnier bit, he commented how frustrating it is to score something such as a toy soldier falling into a drawer, adding that there is a good 20 minutes of Toy Story he's never seen, because that particular section didn't require any musical scoring. He then launched into a fine rendition of "You've Got a Friend in Me," one of the sharpest musical moments of the evening. Again, I wouldn't have minded hearing a slightly more obscure tune from the Toy Story saga, the beautiful and heartbreaking "When She Loved Me" (originally sung by Sarah McLachlan and written by Newman).
I guess it is a sign that I am more of a fan than I knew, having left the show enjoying what I heard but wishing for more songs than time had allowed.
Feinstein and Sexton
As a final note, we realized after the show was over, that we had been seated in a box next to Michael Feinstein and his family and some potentially uber-wealthy donors. No doubt we probably would have been a bit better behaved had we known this – not putting our feet on the backs of chairs, nor taking flash photos, nor snapping our chewing gum. We are so classy. Regardless, after he finished schmoozing Daddy Warbucks and Co., Feinstein was kind and gracious enough to take a photo with us and to chat for a bit, though I suspect the cleaning crew was dispatched to our vacated box immediately.
Do take a moment to check out Feinstein's Foundation and the great work they're doing there, and if you feel like sending a donation to preserve our musical history and keep art alive, I'm sure it would be appreciated. If you find yourself in Indianapolis, definitely stop by for a visit or show. It's worth it!
Reel Roy Reviews is now a book! Thanks to BroadwayWorld for this coverage – click here to view. In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the book currently is being carried by Bookbound, Common Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton's Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.
Posted By: Roy Sexton (Reel Roy Reviews)	Category: Americana, Concert Review, Music Review, Pop!	Tags: aerosmith, alfred newman, Babe, babe pig in the city, baby boomer, back home again in indiana, Baltimore, benzedrine, Birmingham, bobby mcferrin, carmel, columbus, concert review, crown pointe, daddy warbucks, disney, disneyland, don sexton, don't worry be happy, free bird, great american songbook foundation, hall of presidents, harry belafonte, harry nilsson, holidome, I love L.A., indiana, indianapolis, indianapolis star, lena horne, liberace, lionel newman, los angeles, Louisiana, love story (you and me), m.c. escher, madonna, mama told me not to come, mc escher, mc hammer, michael feinstein, milton bradley, mousetrap, musical, musical theatre, new kids on the block, ohio, on the banks of the wabash, palace of versailles, palladium, Palladium at the Center for Performing Arts, peter gabriel, phantom of the opera, pigs, politics, randy newman, religion, roy sexton, sarah mclachlan, short people, soundtracks, susie duncan sexton, terrence flannery, theatre, thomas newman, toy story, tracy chapman, wabash college, when she loved me, wizard of oz, you can leave your hat on, you've got a friend in me
Deja vu all over again: Lincoln
Whether or not Steven Spielberg intended his latest film Lincoln to serve as a finely crafted allegory for our contentiously political times, it very much is one. The movie succeeds on multiple levels, not only allegorical but also as instructively engaging historical psychodrama and crackerjack cinematic entertainment.
Daniel Day-Lewis as the titular American president is warm yet flinty and infinitely watchable in yet another amazingly chameleonic performance in his long and storied career. He manages to evade the trap of most historical biopics – he is neither overly reverential nor artistically self-indulgent. And he is most assuredly not some wax figure in Disneyland's "Hall of Presidents."
Day-Lewis' Abraham Lincoln is a fully realized, at times lovable, always affecting flesh-and-blood creation. I challenge anyone to read about Lincoln after watching this movie and NOT hear Day-Lewis' voice in your head or visualize the mischievous, twinkly fire in his eyes.
The film is set against the backdrop of the Civil War (no shock there) and focuses on the political machinations required to have the 13th Amendment pass the House of Representatives, where it has been stuck for the better part of a year. Lincoln realizes that, if the Civil War ends before the Amendment's passage, he might not ever amend the Constitution to prevent slavery forevermore.
Needless to say, Beltway (was it called the "Beltway" in those days?) backstabbing and hijinks ensue, and anyone who has lived in America in the past twelve years will reflect "the more things change…the more they stay the same." Neither Spielberg nor screenwriter Tony Kushner proselytize (though there is speechifyin'-a-plenty) but the ugliness of watching entitled white dudes debating the finer points of social issues for which they have no real skin in the game is like deja vu all over again.
The supporting cast is a who's who of America's finest players, from always delightful David Strathairn to a gonzo-fun James Spader who seems to be channeling Robert Downey, Jr., at his most drug-addled. Lee Pace of ABC's short-lived Pushing Daisies is fun as a posturing, preening Congressman opposed to the Amendment, and Jackie Earle Haley continues his run of great late-career performances as the peace-seeking Confederate Veep, literally left cooling his heals on a riverboat as Lincoln pushes the Amendment through.
Sally Field as Mary Todd-Lincoln is adequate, and I'm not sure if her part was a bit underwritten or if I have just seen her return to the same actorly well a few too many times. Kushner seems to be channeling a postmodern perspective on the Lincolns' marriage/family through every bit of Field's dialogue, and she does yeoman's work making it sound natural but at times it still seems stilted.
The film also suffers from about four endings too many. We know what happens to Lincoln in the weeks and months following the Amendment's passage, and, trying to cram all of that detail into what is more-or-less an extended diorama-like montage at the film's conclusion detracts. And, of course, Spielberg can't help but include his trademark fairy tale mythologizing here and there – it is ok, but the film is so strong otherwise that I could have done without those vintage touches.
But the best moments of the film come at the hands of two old pros who don't share a minute of screen time: Tommy Lee Jones as Abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens and Jared Harris as Ulysses S. Grant. Both bring gravitas and pixie dust to their roles, more than holding their own with Day-Lewis. Their characters leap from the pages of history books and very quickly feel like people you have known personally for years. Absolutely remarkable work here.
Posted By: Roy Sexton (Reel Roy Reviews)	Category: Americana, Disney, Film Review, Must See, Tragedy	Tags: 13th amendment, abc, abolitionist, beltway, civil war, daniel day-lewis, david strathairn, disneyland, hall of presidents, jackie earle haley, james spader, lee pace, lincoln, mary todd-lincoln, pushing daisies, reel roy reviews, robert downey jr, roy sexton, sally field, slavery, steven spielberg, thaddeus stevens, thirteenth amendment, tommy lee jones, tony kushner, ulysses s. grant, wax figure