David Bromberg talks about his life and sings the blues in illuminating new documentary
NEW YORK’S DOCUMENTARY FESTIVAL: DAVID BROMBERG UNSUNG TREASURE (Beth Toni Kruvant, 2012)
SVA Theatre
333 West 23rd St. between Eighth & Ninth Aves.
Sunday, November 11, $16.50, 4:45
www.docnyc.net
www.goodfootageproductions.com
The delightful new documentary David Bromberg Unsung Treasure sings the well-deserved praises of a rather unusual character — a white, Jewish bluesman from ritzy Tarrytown, New York. For more than forty years, masterful guitarist and songwriter David Bromberg has been singing his entertaining brand of the blues and bluegrass, either solo, with his Big Band, or with the Angel Band. A consummate musician, engaging raconteur, and outstanding live performer, he trained with the Rev. Gary Davis before going on to play with such superstars as Bob Dylan, Jerry Garcia, George Harrison, Jerry Jeff Walker, and a litany of others. A big man with an ever-present beard, mustache, and glasses, Bromberg is an utterly charming figure, speaking honestly and openly about his life and career, often mentioning how deeply he was affected by the way he was raised and how that helped instill the blues in him. Beth Toni Kruvant (The Right to Be Wrong, Heart of Stone) traces his early years through wonderful archival footage and old photographs, then delves into his departure from playing music in the late 1980s and 1990s, when he and his wife, singer Nancy Josephson, moved to Wilmington, Delaware, where he established a well-respected violin-making business and worked tirelessly to help resuscitate the city. But in 2007, Bromberg began a comeback with the solo record Try Me One More Time, followed last year by Use Me, featuring collaborations with a diverse group of musicians, including Vince Gill, Dr. John, and Keb’ Mo’, who appear in the film and talk about the affable, engaging Bromberg with great affection. Unsung Treasure is indeed about an American unsung treasure, a gregarious, giving, and humble man who plays the blues like nobody’s business.
David Bromberg Unsung Treasure is screening November 11 at 4:45 at the SVA Theatre, with Kruvant and Bromberg in attendance, as part of DOC NYC, a weeklong celebration of nonfiction film at SVA and the IFC Center comprising more than seventy documentaries, along with panel discussions and master classes. Among the other music films are Artifact, about Jared Leto’s band, Thirty Seconds to Mars, and their battle with their record label; Drew DeNicola & Olivia Mori’s Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me, with Big Star member Jody Stephens on hand to talk about the highly influential band with the film’s directors and producer as well as record producer John Fry; Greg Whiteley’s New York Doll, about punk bassist turned Mormon librarian Arthur “Killer” Kane; and Andy Grieve and Lauren Lazin’s Can’t Stand Losing You, a look at the life and career of Police drummer Andy Summers, with Summers, Grieve, and producer Norman Golightly participating in a discussion.
New York Doll is an unforgettable documentary about Arthur “Killer” Kane, a man who went to the heights of ecstasy as a member of the New York Dolls in the early 1970s, hit the depths of depression in the late 1980s, and rediscovered himself in the 1990s as a Mormon librarian. As bassist for the New York Dolls, Kane, dressed wildly in heavy makeup and women’s clothes, anchored the glam rock idols, which also included David Johansen, Sylvain Sylvain, Johnny Thunders, and Jerry Nolan. The band dissolved after only two studio albums, and while the rest of the band remained in the music business (Thunders and Nolan died in the early ’90s), Kane’s drug- and alcohol-addled life spiraled downward. As Johansen started showing up in mediocre Hollywood movies (Married to the Mob, Scrooged, Car 54, Where Are You?) and his alter ego, Buster Poindexter, could be heard singing “Hot, Hot, Hot” at every bar mitzvah and wedding in town, Kane languished in obscurity until, in 1989, after a ridiculous suicide attempt, he became a Mormon. Fellow Mormon Greg Whiteley follows Kane around with a handheld camera as the former underground rock star goes about his daily life, working in a Mormon Family History Center library in California, taking the bus to work, hanging out with old ladies, paying “rent” on his pawned basses, and living a simple existence — until he gets a call from British pop star Morrissey, who wants the Dolls to reunite for the 2004 Meltdown festival in London. Kane is a soft-spoken, earnest, gentle man who seems a little bit off yet genuine, but this is what he’s been waiting for — although he is also afraid of failure yet again. Whiteley intersperses classic Dolls songs (“Looking for a Kiss,” “Lonely Planet Boy,” “Private World,” “Puss ‘n’ Boots,” “Trash,” and Johnny Thunders’s “You Can’t Put Your Arms Round a Memory”) with talking heads who share their love of the band (including Sir Bob Geldof, Chrissie Hynde, Mick Jones from the Clash, Blondie’s Clem Burke, and especially Morrissey, who is always seen in extreme close-up and is oh-so-serious), although we wish the film included more music, of a higher quality. Yet the remarkable story and ridiculously bizarre ending, which has a This Is Spinal Tap quality to it throughout — except it’s very real — rises above it all to create one of the best rockumentaries we’ve ever seen.
