The story of Cain and Abel is more than just a family squabble that snowballed into the world's first murder. It's a narrative that gets at a fundamental question: how can two men raised in the same family turn out so differently? Buried in this question is an even deeper mystery: what makes us who we are?
The Louvin Brothers, Ira and Charlie, were the sons of a dirt-poor cotton farmer in Alabama. They were, in most ways, a contrast. Ira was tall, brown-haired, and snake-oil-salesman charming. His younger brother Charlie was short, blond, and more reserved. Perhaps as important as any of these differences, though, was the revelation that when the two boys sang together they created a harmony that seemed both transcendent and earthy at the same time. After years of toil (and following a change of their given name of Loudermilk to the concocted Louvin), they finally hit it big, creating a body of work in bluegrass, gospel, and country music that has few equals. Their influence--on everyone from Ray Charles and Johnny Cash, to Graham Parsons, Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings--is still felt today.
The music of the Louvin Brothers is their monument, but the fascination of their story goes deeper. As with Cain and Abel, Ira and Charlie were brothers at odds with each other. Charlie, like many younger siblings, grew up in awe of his domineering older brother, but Ira Louvin was a man beset with demons. The stories of his alcoholic rages are still famous--the way he'd smash mandolins on stage and cuss out audiences, his abuse of friends and family, the four different wives. He tried to choke his third wife to death with a telephone cord on their bed. She stopped him by grabbing a .22 from under his pillow (because, of course, he was the kind of man who slept with a gun under his head) and shot him twice. When he tried to run away, she shot him three more times in the back. Then she walked up to him as he lay on the floor and shot him one more time in the chest.
He lived through that, but in many ways the Louvin Brothers never recovered. Charlie, married with children and needing a steady income, finally severed their business partnership. The two men kept in sparse contact until a few years later when Ira, in an irony out of a Greek tragedy, was killed by a drunk driver.
The story of the Louvin Brothers is told in the new book SATAN IS REAL:THE BALLAD OF THE LOUVIN BROTHERS written by Charlie Louvin (who lived to the ripe old age of 83 and died in 2011) and novelist Benjamin Whitmer. The book takes its place alongside the surprisingly deep bench of fine country singer memoirs (COAL MINER'S DAUGHTER, CASH: THE BIOGRAPHY, I LIVED TO TELL IT ALL). It's funny, sad, never less than fascinating. Its most striking feature is its complete lack of sentiment. You might expect from a memoir of an old man looking back on his hardscrabble youth some tales of family unity. Indeed, when most people think of the Louvins, they probably think of Ira as a bad seed child.
The truth, as always, is more complicated. Charlie Louvin's recounting of his life growing up in poverty should be essential reading for anyone wanting to understand why country music is sad. Poverty takes every problem and multiplies it by a thousand. Louvin's portrait of his father is most telling. "Ira and I watched the way Papa worked," he recalls "and we knew the way he worked all of us kids. And I think we got to thinking he was pretty dumb. He'd made some pretty stupid choices to end up where he was... When we thought of all the things a person could be in their lives, we couldn't think of nothing worse than being a cotton farmer."
In Louvin's eyes, he and his brother were "slaves" to his father. The contempt here is palpable. Enduring backbreaking "forced labor" for no pay was only part of it. Louvin also recounts the casual violence in that poor farmer's shack, as his father took out his rage and frustration on his children, particularity his eldest son. "Papa wasn't always calm when he came after Ira to give him a whipping. And when he wasn't calm, he wouldn't wait to find a width of hickory, he'd beat him with whatever was at hand. A chunk of firewood, a piece of furniture, whatever."
Ira became a man of bottomless insecurity and rage, a depth of pain that probably didn't need the fuel of alcoholism added to the fire. Of course, what makes this a story about more than just poor abused children is the irony that it was their father who first pushed the Louvins toward music. And music rescued them from poverty.
And what glorious music it is. Charlie Louvin's book takes its name from their most famous album, SATAN IS REAL, and lifts its iconic cover art. The album is a masterpiece of tight harmony singing, impeccable musicianship, and shocking theological purity. It's an album suffused with the glory of Christ but terrorized by the evil of Satan. The cover art has camp appeal, of course, like the primitive rural art found in folk museums--self-taught artists obsessively painting pictures of heaven and hell, pictures that are both cartoonish in their stylistic limitation and terrifying in their sadomasochistic vision. (Read Louvin's account of the making of the cover art and you'll see both of these qualities in play.) The music itself, however, is dark. This is an album of drunkards and fallen men, dying mothers and stillborn babies, Christian redemption and Satanic evil. A song like "Satan's Jeweled Crown" interprets life as a pitched battle for the soul of man:
when I live my life so reckless and evil/ drinkin' and runnin' around/ the things I would do were the will of the devil/ I was giving my soul for Satan's jeweled crown
Fundamentalist Protestantism has created a handful of masterpieces, and SATAN IS REAL is one of them, an essential piece of American music. Having said that, however, it would be a mistake to pigeonhole the Louvins as a gospel act. Their other essential masterpiece is the gorgeous 1956 TRAGIC SONGS OF LIFE. The album is, in some ways, the purer piece of work, in that it features Ira Louvin's blistering work on the mandolin (an instrument the brothers had largely worked out of their act by the time they recorded SATAN IS REAL). It's a collection, as the title indicates, about loss and heartache. It features the Louvins' haunting versions of "In The Pines" "Mary of the Wild Moor" and everyone's favorite murder ballad "Knoxville Girl." No gangsta rapper, no death metal shredder has ever managed to top the chilling performance of the brothers as they sing:
We went to take an evening walk
about a mile from town
I picked a stick up off the ground
and knocked that fair girl down
She fell down on her bended knees
for mercy she did cry
"Oh Willie dear
don't kill me here
I'm unprepared to die"
She never spoke another word
I only beat her more
until the ground around me
within her blood did flow
But this is no boast, no simplistic glorying in misogyny and violence. This senseless act of murder opens up--as it always does in the fundamentalist phantasmagoria of the Louvin Brothers--a pit where the fires of hell burn around the killer's bed at night.
TRAGIC SONGS OF LIFE casts a wide net, though, beyond the gruesomeness of murder ballads. A song like "A Tiny Broken Heart" is, at first glance, almost shockingly sentimental. The tale of a little boy upset because the girl next door must move away could easily be too saccharine to stand. What puts the song over is both the specificity of its focus--we stay in the perspective of the child for whom this tragedy is nothing less than the loss of the love of his life--and its wider social context (the girl's family must move away because picking season is over and there's no work to be had). Here the brothers create, with the attention of miniaturist painters, a vision of young love crushed by implacable economic forces.
Despite the pervasive darkness of their vision, the music of the Louvin Brothers is a source of almost unbridled joy. Ira's high tenor folded so perfectly into Charlie's warm melody tenor that the two men seemed to form--at times--one voice. Mix this with the breakneck pace of many of their songs--driven by Ira's mandolin--and you get music that manages the almost impossible task of being happy and sad at the same time. This weird quality, as evidenced by Charlie Louvin's vivid memoir, was the result of the mysterious dynamic of the men themselves, two brothers born into hardship and poverty, separated by sin but bound by blood and music.
***
Here's an interview with writer Benjamin Whitmer about helping Charlie Louvin write his memoir.
In a new essay at Criminal Element, I take stock of Fred Zinnemann's HIGH NOON. At 60 years old, it's an acknowledged classic, but its reputation has always been marked by controversy.
For a director who was wildly successful, Zinnemann doesn't much love from film historians. Take a look at HIGH NOON again, though, and you'll see a nuanced piece of work. Then look at his other films, like the noir masterpiece ACT OF VIOLENCE, and you'll find a gifted artist who deserves a lot more credit than he gets.
Click here to read my essay on HIGH NOON.
I have new essay up at Criminal Element about the May 1st release of Lullaby, Ace Atkins first Spenser novel. Is it a good idea to continue the Spenser series after the death of author Robert B. Parker? Is this outright heresy? Or is it something more? Check it out and tell me what you think.
PARADISE LOST 3: PURGATORY debuted the other night on HBO. It's a fine piece of work, the clearest document yet on what went down surrounding the murder of three children in West Memphis, Arkansas--and the subsequent arrest of three teenagers for the crime--in 1993. The film also offers a stark look at what has transpired since then, a harrowing tale of American injustice. Even its "happy" ending is infuriating.
I was living in Arkansas when the original murder trials took place. I wrote about my reaction to the case, and to the final release of the WM3, in an essay called The Unsettling Case of the West Memphis Three.
above: Audrey Totter in TENSION. Sexy? You bet. Good marriage material? Not so much.I have two new essays up at Criminal Element which look at noir's most imperfect marriages.
The first is Husbands From Hell, which assembles a rogue's gallery of cheats, liars, and malcontents. These are the kind of husbands who sleep with your sister and steal all your money before trying to have you bumped off.
The ladies get their turn with Worst Wives, a collection of the sexiest, and meanest, brides from noir's classic period. The dames are beautiful; they're also banging the delivery boy and plotting your murder.
I'm only going to mention Hell On Church Street intermittently on The Night Editor since my purpose here is to talk about fiction and film by other folks, but I thought this first-of-the-year post would be a good place to take note of the roll out of my debut novel.
Right off the bat, I should say that this has been one of the best experiences of my life. To see my first novel published is quite literally a dream come true, and I couldn't be more happy with the physical book itself. Many thanks to my publisher, New Pulp Press and its lord of the dark arts, Jon Bassoff.
Since its release the book's gotten some pretty sweet reviews. Here are some highlights (with links to the full reviews if you're interested):
Eric Beetner at Criminal Element called the book "one of the finest pieces of contemporary Noir I've read."
At Spinetingler Magazine the Nerd of Noir said "Hell On Church Street, Jake Hinkson's addictively creepy debut novel, reads fast but lingers long."
And James Reasoner writing at Rough Edges called it a "very strong debut" and singled out the setting and characters as authentic, which is the kind of detail that only Baptists (in this particular case) can testify to.
Over the course of the year, I'll be doing readings at various bookstores and conferences, and I'll post that information here. I've also started a Facebook page for anyone interested in following my goings-on that way. And, of course, I'd love to hear from anyone who's read the book and has thoughts (or complaints, or fiery admonitions) that they'd like to share.
I had a good year at the movies. Not as good as last year perhaps, but we can't really blame that on 2011. After all, I spent most of 2010 in Washington DC which thanks to various moviegoing venues including the AFI Silver in Silver Spring and the E Street Cinema downtown is a great movie town. In 2010, I went to the movies 53 times. That year was also notable because a) I got to go to an Orson Welles retrospective, and b) I fell in love with the Natalie Portman flick BLACK SWAN so hard I saw it three times.
So, okay, 2011 can't live up to all that. I 'only' went to the movies 29 times (or 2.4 times a month). I did not have a breakout movie experience like BLACK SWAN nor a once-in-a-lifetime experience like the Welles revue.
But 2011 was still a pretty good year. Herewith I present a brief overview of what I saw and what I thought, with links to longer pieces on selected films. One note before we start: since no one is paying me to see movies I am fairly certain not to like (TRANSFORMERS, et al) I don't see many movies I totally hate. I see lots of movies that disappoint me in one way or another, but this list is largely positive in large part because I only go see the movies I want to see.
2011:
1. PHIL OCHS: THERE BUT FOR FORTUNE: Documentary on the ill-fated folk singer. An interesting look at a brave, talented man tormented by the consequences of his convictions and the limits of his own gift. He wanted to be Bob Dylan, but lacked Dylan's ruthless careerism. He also lacked Dylan's genius.
2. BLUE VALENTINE: Came out in late 2010 but I didn't see it until January. Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams might be our two best actors and here they perform a heartbreaking duet about falling out of love. Odd that movies so rarely tackle one of the most profound/common human experiences: meeting someone, realizing you are in love with them, and then waking up years later to find that the love slipped away somewhere in the past. A triumph for writer/director Derek Cianfrance.
3. THE KING'S SPEECH: Another 2010 holdover. You know what it's about already, an English guy with a stutter. Everyone is good here, but really, honestly, who cares? I suspect this is the kind of prestige drama that will be largely forgotten in ten years.
4. THE ADJUSTMENT BUREAU: Not much to say here either. Matt Damon and Emily Blunt chased by angels with hats. It's entertaining in its set-up and then quickly loses momentum and guts. The ending is so watered down it's spongy. One bright spot: Damon and Blunt have real chemistry. Look at the scene of them meeting for the first time. Someone should put these two in a real movie.
5. DOLLY PARTON, MA MERE, ET MOI-Saw this movie in Montreal in a theater that showed everything in French without English subtitles. I don't speak French. The movie is about a girl who thinks Dolly Parton might be her mom. Did I mention I don't speak French? Still, this movie experience made for an interesting point of comparison with the new silent film THE ARTIST. While I undoubtedly missed certain nuances conveyed in the French dialog, I still followed this film remarkably well and found it moving and funny. A fun experiment in filmgoing.
6. IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT: Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert fight and flirt and fall in love and talk really, really fast. In some ways, this is the romantic comedy by which all others are judged. Seeing it on the big screen, it's clear why. With this film Capra basically created the cinematic template that people are still ripping off. Plus, it holds up obscenely well.
7. JANE EYRE: I loved Cary Fukunaga's adaptation of the overdone Bronte novel. The whole thing is a joy but the secret weapons are the fine performances by Michael Fassbender and, especially, the luminous, fragile, powerful Mia Wasikowska.
8. and 9. MIDNIGHT IN PARIS: Saw this one twice. And why not? After last year's soul-deadening YOU WILL MEET A TALL DARK STRANGER, Woody Allen came waltzing back with this paper-light confection of joy. Owen Wilson stumbles into a portal in time that sends him back to Paris in the twenties to hang out with the Lost Generation. Plays like one of Allen's short New Yorker pieces. How can you not love that? Also has Rachel McAdams being mean, which is topped in sexiness only by Marion Cotillard being sad and sweet. If you like Woody Allen, then this is hard to resist.
10. THE TREE OF LIFE: Poetry in motion. Read my full review.
11. and 12. GREEN LANTERN and CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER: Comic book adaptations of two comic books I loved as a kid. The first is okay, the second is very good. Read my full review.
13. BRIDESMAIDS: Kristen Wiig cowrote and stars in this comedy, so it's interesting to notice how screwed up, lonely, almost pathetic her character is in it. The genius of the film--besides just being hilarious at an impressively constant clip--is that it locates its comedy in the tension between good emotions (friendship, love, devotion) and bad emotions (self-pity, resentment, anger) without shortchanging either.
14. BEGINNERS: This might have been my favorite movie of the year. It's certainly one of the most delightful. Odd then that it's about both death and the feeling of parental abandonment. Christopher Plummer plays an elderly widower who makes the self-realization late in life that he is gay. Ewan McGregor plays his son, a man who loves his father but is resentful that he grew up in a sterile home, a home where he had to watch his mother spend her life in a passionless marriage. Witty and tragic, this is the kind of movie that stuns you with how smartly it handles the tricky subject of the various kinds of pain caused by love.
15. THE FUTURE: I said I don't go see many movies that I hate, but here's the closest I came this year. After making a stunningly good first film with YOU ME AND EVERYONE WE KNOW, writer/director/star Miranda July makes a stunningly bad second film. Forced whimsy in an arranged marriage with grating melancholia. Blah.
16. DRIVE: The year of Gosling continues with this postmodern crime gem. See my full review.
17. HIGHER GROUND: Flawed but heartfelt look at the "Jesus Freak" movement in the 1970s. See my full review.
18. MONEYBALL: Brad Pitt spends millions of dollars to hire guys to hit and catch and throw baseballs. But not as many millions as other guys do. Not too sure what the message is here, or why we should really care, but this is a pretty entertaining movie nevertheless. Snappy script by Aaron Sorkin helps.
19. THE IDES OF MARCH: Gosling again, this time with George Clooney in a backroom political drama. Not a great film despite the presence of a lot of great talent, due in part to the script's predicable twists and rather pedestrian revelations about the corrupting power of politics.
20. WEEKEND: Two guys meet, hook up, spend a couple days hanging out and having sex and maybe sorta falling in love before they part ways. Sweet, sexy, observant take on the ways we drift briefly through the lives of other people via romance.
21. TAKE SHELTER: Of any movie on this list, I think this is the one I'm most eager to see again. Michael Shannon gives what might be my favorite performance of the year as a man haunted by dreams of a coming storm. Writer/director Jeff Nichols puts his finger on a certain strain of religiously-suffused American paranoia. This one stays with you.
22. J. EDGAR: Clint and Leo take on the most famous bureaucrat in history. See my full review.
23. MARGIN CALL: A big cast take on the financial crisis in this drama from J.C. Chandor. Despite good performances and tight direction, this has Stanley Kramer's Disease--that built-in "topical movie" feel that you sometimes get from films that want to make statements about big issues of the day.
24. THE DESCENDANTS: George Clooney navigates family life in this Alexander Payne drama. Read my full review.
25. MY WEEKEND WITH MARILYN: I said earlier that Michelle Williams is one of our best actors. She proves it again with her sad and sweet performance as Marilyn Monroe, everyone's favorite doomed beauty. The movie itself is lightweight, reminding me a little of those old Movie Of Week flicks about the private sufferings of rich, famous people. But something in Williams' performance sticks around and, perhaps more importantly, makes you want to revisit the real Monroe.
26. YOUNG ADULT: Gotta love a romantic comedy about love turning to shit and life falling apart. Actually, this movie isn't a romantic comedy at all, but it works like an acid-spewing critique of those movies. (I like those movies, btw, but I also like acid-spewing critiques.) Luckily, everyone here gets what kind of movie they're making, from the biting script of Diablo Cody and synced-up direction of Jason Reitman, to the fearless performances of Charlize Theron and Patton Oswalt.
27. MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE--GHOST PROTOCOL: Lots of fights and shit blowing up. Which is what I wanted. Saw this one at the IMAX where Tom Cruise's now legendary real life scaling of the tallest building in the world pretty much stopped the show. The show keeps going after that scene, though, which makes the last half of the movie a little tedious.
28. SHERLOCK HOLMES: GAME OF SHADOWS: If you liked the first movie, which I did, you will probably like this movie. It is more of the same, which is both its virtue and chief flaw. The first film reinvented Holmes as a big budget superhero. This one recycles that invention for a sequel.
29. THE ARTIST: This is a silent film from the French director Michel Hazanavicius and it is a full-on triumph of black and white cinematography, choreography, acting, and directing. It tells the story of a big silent film star (played with dash and dazzle by the charismatic Jean Dujardin) who is waylaid by the invention of movie sound right about the time that his beautiful discovery (the effervescent Berenice Bejo) shoots to stardom in talkies. What a mad invention this movie is, a silent film that is both a tribute to a now archaic art and a vivid, hilarious, swooning reminder that silent moving images are still the foundation of the art form known as cinema. An excellent way to round out my year at the movies.
