Re: Jagger/Scorsese HBO series "Vinyl"
Date: March 29, 2016 10:04
To me the beauty of this last episode is, in part, how much it contrasted in every way with the previous episode. When Richie was at the apex of his wilding the production, direction, camerawork, editing, script, lighting was all off-kilter, chaotic, disjointed, nonlinear, jarring, surreal, fvcked up.
This episode, Richie has sobered up. His mind is clearing--but not clear--he is basically going from moment to moment. And the entire show slows down. This episode, to me, was about carefully crafted moments rather than almost violently spewed/painted brushstrokes vomited on canvas.
The pace could have been mistaken as almost sluggish. But it's just a closer more detailed, and more careful walk. Slower breaths.
The camera angles are oblique and canny. Light is as important as it was in the previous episode, but it's light here, rather than shadow.
There are so many details...like the Gram character (what a riot), the mention of Manassas, how genuinely smoov and cool Richie is, and constantly selling, seducing, and attracting. This episode was about bare-bones contrast between him and Ray Romano. Almost a clinical look at it. A good man, and a not-good man--Scorsese may have little to do with this series, but this past episode emanated Scorsese's belief that life is nihilistic, subtext underlying almost every one of his films.
Details like Richie throwing the plant when they left the lame-o party. Effortlessly bribing the clerk at the hotel in Vegas.
The subtlety and restraint in the jet sale scene -- shown by both Ray Romano and Bobby Cannavale. They're seething. They don't dare let on they're seething because they both know they need the money. Barely a flick of an upper lip. Standing there while the idiot competitor gloats and boasts, and displays his abject vulgarity and cluelessness. They're both furious, and pride-hurt, for different reasons. They get through it.
The decision to go to the party afterall. The heat you feel when you go from east coast to west coast. Even tho their suit were light wool gaberdine, they were still wool. And too dark. Too "heavy" in every way. They trudge across the sand in the outfits that worked in NY and were so guido and square in LA--while beautiful tanned near-naked people are playing volleyball. It's partly so amusing and glimmering with pathos because it's so realistic--particularly then--that era. New York was already old, Brill Building, bricks and mortar. Los Angeles 1970s music industry (vs. "record men!" as they exclaimed in unison at one point) was on another far hipper planet than NY (except for what was emerging with punk and, soon enough, hip hop--which we've seen allusions to already).
And again, at the party: the encounters with various people--the sly, not quite unkind, mention of getting to the buffet before Mama Cass. The decision to go to Vegas--and how all of that--to me, almost every moment, is brilliant, beautiful--the pointed disappointment for Ray Romano seeing Vegas-era Elvis. The girls living in Henderson--Richie's well-oiled comment of "Oh, c'mon no one's from Vegas--where are you really from?" Iowa, Minneapolis. So true.
The girl wanting to be with Richie. And with his charisma (and given his agenda to meet with Elvis alone, unimpeded by Zak's uncouth) redirects her---with mild regret, because for a moment he'd begun to reach for her neck, which we've come to see is a sign he's being turned on, the animal he is, grasping his prey by the throat---like a pimp, sending her off to Ray Romano to actualize his 3-some fantasy. (And to keep him busy and out of Richie's hair.)
More moments and details: Ray Romano's boorishness, unaccustomed to being off the leash--Richie's forbearing impatience with him at the blackjack table.
To me, the Elvis scene was staggering. Mesmerizing. Richie casts a trust spell of intimacy on people--that's how he makes things happen. He makes them feel like he gets them. And he kinda does. At least in the moment of seduction. Whether he can follow through on it is another story (see: Harlem soul singer he sold out). Colonel Tom playing Elvis like a puppet in front of Richie--at Richie's expense. Richie really felt that he and Elvis had come to a visionary plane together--and Richie had done that without coke, without any drugs, or booze, or anything, he'd gotten to that transcendent place with Elvis...they were both honestly riffing on what they could do, where they could go...returning Elvis to place of authenticity in his music and his career, and himself. And you think--while watching it--holy shit: what if someone had actually been able to get through to him like this, and somehow get him "back to that place of truth and beauty" (as the Gram Parsons character was entreating Richie to do himself--tho the Gram character's preachy delivery and sense of familiarity was repugnant to Richie). The command that Colonel Tom had--in the world and over Elvis--is greater than anything Richie can come up to. He's bested in every way. Elvis careens away...Richie is dismissed. We are left to wonder (as if Richie) whether Elvis was a cypher--an empty hazy shell--whether he has any wits about him, did they really connect at all? or is he so flaked out he floats from moment to moment, untethered and under the control of Colonel Tom? And Richie...would he have remained interested in "freeing" Elvis from the bonds of mind- and soul-numbing drugs and subservience to Colonel Tom? or would American Century simply have become his new master, exploiting him for whatever they could get?
And we're left to wonder how far ahead Richie was plotting to set up Zak? At what point did he know what he was going to do? Was there any good will involved at all in helping his "friend" have a 3-some? How much was he corrupting Zak, seducing him into the world of wanton sex and drugs, while he watched dispassionately and acted as puppetmaster? Was he doing him a favor or making him complicit?
When Zak was raving about turning the $90,000 into "a million bucks!!!" and Richie prudently leads him away from the gaming tables...did he know there was a possibility he would return himself? Did he reason that he wouldn't need to do that if he signed Elvis? But had it in his hip pocket? Or was it a decision he made recklessly and self-destructively to play perversely with the possibility of once and for all grinding himself and American Century into the dirt, after he'd "lost" the seduction/signing of Elvis? In other words, a big "F u ck It"?
That's something compulsive personalities and addicts do all the time. That's what he did on the plane ordering the vodka. Zak now has been pretty much permanently muzzled---a dedicated husband and father, he's now f ucked young girls, done mountains of coke, behaved shamefully in front of Elvis' management, lost the tiny "fortune" of the company---he can never bitch or be sanctimonious toward Richie, ever again. Which Richie most certainly did coldly construct.
That's just some of what, to me, made this past episode worlds more interesting and carefully rendered than last week's. Both are sort of works of abstract expressionism--but this week was a Willem de Kooning vs. a bombastic Pollack.
Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 2016-03-29 10:34 by swiss.