7 November 1998: The Jazz Singer

Saturday, 7 November 1998:

The Jazz Singer

Well, I did in fact stay home from work yesterday. I woke up and just did not feel much better than I did on Thursday, so I called in sick. Which was probably a good call, since I promptly went back to bed and slept another 3-1/2 hours, until 11:30.

I am feeling somewhat better today, although still kind of congested and tired. But I think I'm on the road to recovery.

I spent a bunch of yesterday reading the two hardcover Superman Archive volumes I bought some months ago. I'm glad I got them at half-price, because these early Superman stories are not great (or even good) art. Joe Schuster's artwork is servicible, but not a lot more, and Jerry Siegel's scripts are quite weak: Thin and contrived characterization, and erratic and sometimes nonsensical plots.

Historically, of course, it's fascinating stuff. Superman is clearly a child of the pulp magazines, as his early stories often involve Clark Kent doing investigative work or Superman disguising himself (with his amazing facility to apply make-up!) to break up a gang or some other criminal plot. Superman also kills (or at least fails to save) the occasional crook, making a comment like, "That's one less evil-doer to blacken our city." He's really rather vicious and readily terrorizes the bad guys, playing off their nature as a "superstitious, cowardly lot" far more than Batman ever did!

Most peculiar are the early adventures in which Superman plays social crusader, most notably when he declares war on reckless driving: He terrorizes drunk drivers and reckless drivers he encounters around the city, destroys cars that he judges unsafe (including the whole manufacturing plant of one automobile), and eventually confronts the police commissioner to make him start enforcing the speed limits and driving laws more strictly. It's actually a pretty vile story, running directly counter to what Superman eventually came to stand for (heck, there have been whole stories built around the notion that Superman won't do this kind of stuff). And yet, it's also rather realistic; after all, I'm sure many of us, given the powers of Superman, would happily go out and crusade for some social causes we believe in (imagine what someone like that would do in the abortion debate).

I don't think I'll buy any more of these early Superman Archives, at least, not anytime soon. I do want to get some more Batman ones, though.

On a related note, have I mentioned that The New Batman/Superman Adventures has its own Web page? If you like this stuff (and I do), this page has complete episode guides for both Batman series and the Superman series, as well as a list of upcoming episodes to be shown in the Kids WB network (although I have a sneaking suspicion that far more adults watch these cartoons than kids).

Oh, yeah; and I should mention the recent release of Superman: Peace on Earth, by Paul Dini and Alex Ross. Dini is a regular writer for The New Batman/Superman adventures, and Ross is an outstanding pointer who has made a name for himself with his comics projects Marvels and Kingdom Come. This book involves Superman's holiday effort to deliver huge quantities of surplus food to starving people around the world, and it's played fairly realistically (Superman has no illusions that he can "solve" the problem, but he thinks maybe by setting a good example as only he can, he can inspire others to work harder at it), but overall the story is not very strong. It's Ross' artwork that carries the day, especially since the book was published in the little-used "treasury" format, which is twice as large as a standard comic book. It's really a lovely piece of work, and worth checking out just for some of the double-page spreads.

What else did I do yesterday? Not a whole lot, really. Watched some TV, and painted my Robo Rally figures. I'm about done with four of the eight figures, but I've been irritated at the difficulty I've had with getting a nice, bright coat of yellow and orange. It's take several coats to get it the way I want.

Today I went to see The Jazz Singer, as the theater near work goes back to the 1920 and 30s in their Warner Bros film festival. One of the first "talkies", this black-and-white film is mostly silent - with dialogue cards spliced into the visuals - and only the musical numbers and a handful of lines are actually spoken (and some of the musical numbers are not synchronized with the visuals). The contrast of the silent and "talkie" parts of the film is interesting, and perhaps gives us modern viewers a small glimpse of the impression people in 1927 must have gotten of this film.

Other than the technology, however, this is really a vile little film. Al Jolson plays Jakie Rabinowitz, son of a Jewish Cantor, who runs away from home to become a "jazz singer" rather than following in his father's footsteps. When he finally returns to New York to star on Broadway, his father's illness gives him second thoughts about his choices. The plot is exceedingly thin, and Jolson does a turn in blackface (underlining the decidedly whitebread cast). Moreover, only the most charitable person would call the stuff he sings "jazz"; I infer from context that the term must have meant something different in the 1920s, perhaps referring to popular music in general.

Jakie's dilemma is overly-contrived, and he ultimately makes the rather sickening choice of going along with his father's wishes, despite all the hatred, bitterness and intolerance his father has thrown at him. Worst of all, having made his choice, Jakie then gets to have it both ways, also becoming a Broadway star (despite the explicit threats to the contrary by his director). All of this is dramatically incompetent and morally unsalvageable, in my opinion.

It's a trite little piece that really should have been dumped unceremoniously into the ashbin of history.

I came home from this to watch last night's episode of Homicide, which was quite good. It involved an apparently widespread effort to poison citizens in Baltimore, and introduced some tension when the FBI is called in. So far, Homicide doesn't go for the cheap forms of drama; the police are none-too-happy to have the FBI around, but they're all professional enough that it doesn't become more than minor grousing. Rather, the FBI angle provides a method for introducing further tension between a father-and-son pair of characters. A good episode. I'm really enjoying this show.

I'm not sure where the rest of the day went. Downloading software and reading Swordspoint, maybe. I picked up a copy of the new Phish album last night, but haven't had a chance to listen to it yet.

Michael Rawdon (Contact)