| |
|
|
Charlotte Zwerin at the HFA
BY GERALD PEARY
|
|
|
|
|
I gather that Charlotte Zwerin, who will be honored November 1 through 10 at the Harvard Film Archive, is shy and reticent, and that that’s a major reason hardly anyone knows her name, even though she’s the credited filmmaker of Thelonious Monk: Straight No Chaser (1989; November 1 and 8 at 7 p.m.), perhaps the greatest jazz documentary, and a co-director with Albert and David Maysles on their non-fiction masterworks Salesman (1969; November 7 at 9 p.m. and November 9 at 7 p.m.), Gimme Shelter (1970; November 7 at 7 p.m. and November 9 at 9 p.m.), and Running Fence (1978; November 2 at 9:30 p.m.). But perhaps media inaccuracy is also a factor in her obscurity. Most often, journalists honor the above-mentioned works as "Maysles Brothers films." Does sexism come into it? I’ve heard Albert Maysles speak on at least four occasions; I can’t recall, even as he eulogized his late brother, David, his discussing Zwerin’s contribution. One Albert Maysles interview does acknowledge her, however: "And the quality of the work of our editors — like Charlotte Zwerin — was so extraordinary that you have to give them a filmmaker’s credit." Zwerin grew up in Detroit and attended Wayne State University, where she started a film society. She came to New York and became an editor; in the 1950s she worked for television, including at Drew Associates, which was run by the pioneer of cinéma-vérité, Robert Drew. It was there that she met the Maysleses. At one time, she was married to the jazz critic Michael Zwerin. For Salesman, the Maysleses provided the picture and sound of four door-to-door Boston-based Bible salesmen and Zwerin, far away in an editing suite, figured out how to structure the story. Her not knowing the real-life salesmen was, she’s since explained, a plus: she created a narrative without sentimentality or directorial regrets for what hadn’t been shot. "I think this removal from the scene helped my judgment and helped me to understand more clearly what the viewer would feel." Zwerin directs without being on the set! Even the Thelonious Monk film was put into her hands by producer Bruce Ricker, with the fabulous Monk material already in the can, photographed by Michael and Christian Blackwood. Ricker, a Cambridge resident, is the person responsible for this Zwerin retrospective, the first ever in America, which premiered in June 2003 at the Museum of Modern Art. He will introduce the November 1 Straight, No Chaser screening (Zwerin’s scheduled appearance has been cancelled), for which, he tells me, "Clint Eastwood has contributed his brand new private print." I ask him about his pal. "Charlotte’s a pioneer of cinéma-vérité, and this tribute is way overdue. She’s in the tradition of directors who come out of editing, like Hal Ashby and Robert Parrish. She once said that her major influences are David Maysles and jazz pianist Tommy Flanagan. She gathers all the material and shapes it into a piece of work that’s musical in nature. She’s got a keen eye and she’s a great arranger, like Gil Evans working with Miles Davis. Also, she’s a very good listener, the key to making a good documentary." A couple of Zwerin’s works were unavailable for advance screening: Sculpture of Space: Noguchi (1995, November 3 at 9 p.m.), which celebrates the sculpture-without-boundaries of Isamu Noguchi, and Toru Takemitsu: Music for the Movies (1994; November 10 at 9 p.m.), whose subject is the Japanese composer for films of Kurosawa and Oshima. But a major revelation is De Kooning on De Kooning (1981; November 3 with Sculpture of Space), in which the audience eavesdrops on conversations at the great Abstract Expressionist’s East Hampton home and, for five miraculous minutes at the end, watches a deeply absorbed De Kooning paint away. I never knew that such footage existed, this intimate visit with a laid-back, humorous Willem de Kooning and his intense, intellectually driven wife, Elaine de Kooning, her spouse’s biggest promoter. The subject of "Arshile Gorky" (1982; November 2 with Running Fence) had been long dead when Zwerin made this 29-minute film. Much time is devoted to a poignant interview with Gorky’s surviving wife, Agnes Fielding, who talks about the many demons that precipitated her husband’s suicide. Ella Fitzgerald: Something To Live For (1999; November 8 at 9 p.m.) suffers because Zwerin is boxed into the impersonal format of the PBS American Masters series. But the jazz-loving filmmaker subverts TV requirements by giving over long segments to uncut Ella singing away with, among others, Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, and, most thrillingly, the Duke Ellington Band. Gerald Peary can be reached at gpeary@world.std.com
|
