|
'Year of the Horse:' Neil Young refusing to grow old
October 12, 1997
Web posted at: 4:42 p.m. EDT (2042 GMT)From Reviewer Paul Tatara
Hey hey, my my. "Year of the Horse," a documentary by cult director Jim Jarmusch about the near-symbiotic creative relationship between legendary rock icon Neil Young and the grinding-est, crunching-est garage band in the world, Crazy Horse, is a fittingly haphazard affair.
Young is known for his defiantly low-tech approach to recording music (he and the Horse basically just plug up and play as loud and as passionately as they possibly can, live or in the studio), so it only makes sense that Jarmusch has chosen to shoot the film mostly in 8 millimeter. The filmmaker has obviously learned something from Young: Display an unwavering commitment to doing it the wrong way, and you'll almost always end up getting it right. If that's not a working definition of rock 'n' roll, I don't know what is.
Tons of shots are out of focus, faces appear and reappear in the haze, and none of the interview subjects ever seem to take Jarmusch very seriously. In fact, nobody seems to care about anything at all but reaching that glorious onstage moment that's come to define the Crazy Horse sound. At their best, Young and his on-again-off-again band mates sound like a pounding, and finally soaring, garbage truck. It's about as exhilarating as rock music gets these days, and it was nearly that good when they first joined forces back in the late '60s. These guys emit an achingly beautiful squall that (like the movie's opening credit says) is "made loud to be played loud." Be warned: If you're faint of heart you should probably just stay at home with your Yanni CD's and a spritzer.
I know more than a few people who can't handle Young's unique mating of electronic sludge and dying-tenor vocals, but, personally, I'm a card-carrying fanatic. I have 19 of his discs in my collection, and recently shelled out big bucks for an import copy of "Everybody's Rockin'," one of the most brilliantly stupid albums in the history of recorded music. That said, everything I write from here on out had better be carefully considered. If you don't dig the guy, nothing in "Year of the Horse" is likely to change your mind. And I'm sure that's exactly how he wants it.
Most of the footage comes from the 1996 Crazy Horse tour, but Jarmusch also has dug up several hilarious minutes of road hijinks from '76 and '86. During the Bicentennial tour, Young and the fellas, seeming more than a little out of it, decide to set the beautiful centerpiece of their hotel room breakfast table on fire. Flames leap in the air as the flowers are finally doused with orange juice and disposed of in the bathtub. Then Young, managing to keep a straight face, has to explain to the horrified maid how his cigarette accidentally set the whole thing off.
Sure it's childish, but this, and a 1986 backstage screaming match between Young and bassist Billy Talbot over a blown arrangement, shows the range of experience these guys bring with them when they play. They goof off and argue with equal abandon, and their music reflects both sides of that equation.
Unlike the Rolling Stones, who've been washed-up so long they've begun to physically resemble driftwood, Young and Crazy Horse (bass player Talbot, drummer Ralph Molina, and Frank "Poncho" Sampedro dueling with Young on guitar) still remember why they got into this game in the first place. They come right at you, guns blazing, without the slightest hint of show-biz affectation. On stage during a guitar meltdown, Young, quite frankly, looks like a crazy old man. He bobs and weaves like a feedback-addled Jake LaMotta, wearing a tattered flannel shirt, baggy shorts, tennis shoes, and (major faux pas) black socks. If I saw him approaching me on the sidewalk in New York City, I'd cross the street. Or grab a garbage can lid to protect myself.
Jarmusch, unfortunately, isn't much in the interview department. How do you honestly expect someone to respond when you say, "It must be heavy to be in Crazy Horse." It's not even a question, for God's sake. Nevertheless, there are several interesting moments in the interviews. Young's father, a popular Canadian sportswriter, proves quite insightful when pondering the band's appeal. "There's an intensity of effort about them," he says, "that can't help but impress itself on the listener." The younger Young, no idiot, also realizes that he and his buddies have got something unique going: "The older we get, the more we realize how special it is."
There's a lot of music here, of course, but there aren't really all that many songs. Young and Sampedro get so lost in the deafening roar, they have a tendency to take three or four screaming solos in a row. This is great when you're sitting in the arena while they're doing it, but you do feel a tad short-changed considering the movie isn't going to leave room for the 15 or 20 or 30 Young classics you want to hear. I applauded for 10 minutes after the movie ended, waiting for them to come back out and play "Powderfinger," but no dice. Instead, I got a preview for "Devil's Advocate."
I'm encouraged by the fact that Neil Young is still going at it, and anybody who gets in his way is going to be plowed under. This movie is a burst of heart and wisdom, and a testament to the fine art of self-commitment. Crazy Horse is unique in the annals of rock 'n' roll: they've managed to continue carrying the banner into their 50s without looking even faintly ridiculous. Long may they run.
"Year of the Horse" contains the dreaded "F" word, and may cause deafness. Rated R. 120 minutes.
|
Sound off on our message boards You said it... |
|
© 1997 Cable News Network, Inc.
All Rights Reserved.