Cinema Canada (Jan-Feb 1981)

saa FILM REVIEWS Harry Rasky’s The Song of Leonard Cohen Leonard Cohen sits with his guitar on the balcony railing of his Montreal apartment, picking the opening notes of Bird on a Wire, his classic elegy to his own freedom. The image dissolves into soft spotlights as the composition changes to Cohen singing on stage, a troubadour bathed in crimson. Then suddenly we see the golden torso of a statue; the shot widens to reveal it as an angel figure among several others adorning a building. The camera pans to include the Eiffel tower, and zooms in on a pigeon in the foreground. Cut to a rear view of a bus labouring up a rainy highway incline... This is the initial sequence ‘of Harry Rasky’s feature-length documentary The Song of Leonard Cohen. Like Rasky’s masterful Homage to Chagall, Song isa highly personal, remarkable act of sympathetic imagination. The director's interpretive hand is always there, but Cohen somehow speaks for himself, because the filmmaker is so closely attuned to the man’s vision, his inflation, and his ironic wit. Sumptuous visuals of women, art, architecture, or children complement the longing and potency of Cohen’s lyrics. The film follows Cohen, with his friends and his band, through the changing environments of his world — Montreal, and five European cities on a recent concert tour — and through the many frozen 42/January—February 1981 SPOT LABS 487 ADELAIDE ST.W., TORONTO, ONT. M5V 1T4 » 366-8001 offers you the experience of 10 years’ service to the industry -35mm negative processing and dailies _-16mm negative processing and dailies -16mm contact and reduction prints -35mm and l6mm commercials Extensive experience with European and U.S. features Cohen's face reflecting our own in Harry Rasky’s sensitive film, The Song of Leonard Cohen. moments of his past — haunting still photographs of Cohen’s many faces, his family, and his women. The finely mixed soundtrack consists of Cohen’s music, conversations, poems, and commentary, full of ambiguous wisdom, melancholy, humour, and light selfparody. LT D Much of the film dwells on the minstrel’s face, exposing on it the roughening effects of time and women, often in very long takes. (Later Cohen says, “I like to see the marks on people”.) Rasky seems to be saying that if we look at Cohen long and closely enough, we will recognize him for the archetypcal ‘shapeshifter that he is, and we'll see our face in his. The effectiveness of this approach depends upon the extent to which we can identify with Cohen as the artist, the Lazarus-like lady's man, the deeply wounded insecure Canadian, the wandering Jew, the city, the alien in strange lands... In one sequence, Rasky examines the contents and ambiance of Cohen's apartment, while Cohen comments on the camera’s curious, hand-held investigation. As we see the kitchen sink, the cramped bathtub, and the deliberately austere furnishings, Cohen insists that it’s “voluptuously” comfortable because “it’s got everything you need.” Cohen’s careful enactment of luxury in simplicity (“I’ve always liked white rooms”) takes on new dimensions of irony and poignancy as the film progresses. The film is about the Canadian condition, as is some of Cohen’s poetry. He translates a song on his tape recorder from the French; in it, a wanderer speaks of his “most unfortunate country”. When asked, Cohen admits that he identifies with that voice “a little bit” He takes a very long ride through the streets of _ Montrealinacaléche, wearinga yellow T shirt which says Hollywood YMCA. In his favourite greasy spoon, Solomon’s, he gropes with a very intense look in his eyes for something to say about French Canada, and then recalls that the motto of Quebec is “Je me souviens” — “I Remember” (which is a very good point). The juxtaposition of the poet at home and on the road repeatedly implies the truth The Song of Leonard Cohen p./d./sc. Harry Rasky mus. “Passenger” with Steve Meador (drums), Charles Beck (guitar), Paul Ostermayer (saxophone, flute & clarinet), Bill Ginn (piano & synthesizer), Mitch Watkins (guitar) and Jonn Bilezikjian (mandolin & oud), Rafik Akopian (violin). Accompanying vocalists: Sharon Robinson, Jennifer Warnes ed. Paul Nikolich p. man. Len D'Agostino p.a. Aili Suurallik d.o.p. Kenneth W. Gregg, c.s.c. Additional photography: Jean Reitberger film quality control Jim Lo sd. rec. Erik Hoppe re rec Terry Cooke light Erik Kristensen asst. cam. John Maxwell graphic design Geoff Cheesbrough graphic photog. Robert Mistynyn stills Hazel Field I.p. Leonard Cohen, Irving Layton, Mort Rosengarten p.c. CBC running time 90 min. colour 16 mm.