Well, dear readers, here it is, President’s Day, a day on which we celebrate various and sundried past Presidents, such as Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Washington. Did you know, for example, that I was a past President? I was indeed. But more about that later.
I picked up a few of the brand spanking new Frank Sinatra CD reissues. These are 24 bit remasterings of CDs I already have, but these clearly have more bits than my others, so I figured they were a necessity. I haven’t listened to them yet (well, I only bought two – the marvelous No One Cares album, conducted and arranged by the marvelous Gordon Jenkins, and a very strange album entitled Tone Poems of Color, which is not sung by Mr. Sinatra, but is conducted by Mr. Sinatra. This was also out on CD, albeit very very briefly, and has been something of a collector’s item. This album has original compositions by a variety of terrific composers, most of whom have written film scores. They include Victor Young, Gordon Jenkins, Billy May, Jeff Alexander, Alec Wilder, Nelson Riddle, Elmer Bernstein and Andre Previn. I also picked up Mr. Previn’s new recording of Korngold film scores, but there’s nothing here we haven’t heard before, nothing compelling, just new renditions of old favorites that have been done a bit better (and sometimes a lot better) elsewhere.
I also watched a truly annoying DVD last night, entitled Original Sin, starring Mr. Antonio Banderas and Ms. Angelina Jolie. I know, I know, why did I bother? Well, it so happens that Original Sin is based on a book by Cornell Woolrich, Waltz Into Darkness, and I’m very fond of Mr. Woolrich. This particular novel had already been turned into a film before by Mr. Truffaut (The Mississippi Mermaid). His film was a hit and miss affair. This new film is simply a miss affair, a misfire, a mistake. It’s a period piece, a “steamy thriller” according to the box (based on two brief love scenes in which there is definitely a lot of non-period type fooling around). May I just say that the charms of Ms. Angelina Jolie totally escape me. She spends half the film doing one of those awful high schooly phony baloney pseudo English-flavored accents, and half the film not doing it (there could be justification for this choice, but the places she does and doesn’t do it would preclude that justification). Mr. Banderas is a decent actor, but I simply don’t understand what he says a lot of the time. This thing was written and directed by Mr. Michael Cristofer. I can’t really blame him, he just isn’t equipped to direct anything, let alone a “steamy thriller”. He has a decent cameraman, so it’s not inept, but he does all those things directors who don’t know how to direct do – jump cuts in the middle of shots, dissolves in the middle of shots, it’s just mesmerizingly bad in that modern filmmaking way. I do blame the people who hired him, who read this awful script and said “yes” and then who made the decision to let him direct (based on what, I’d like to know). Mr. Cristopher once wrote a decent play entitled The Shadow Box. That writer is not in evidence here. Of course the film tanked, and deservedly so.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Enough, already. I also watched the non-steamy thriller, Don’t Say A Word with Mr. Michael Douglas, directed by the truly untalented Gary Fleder (Kiss the Girls). But more about that later, because it’s time to click the Unseemly Button below.
As promised, today I will start telling you a story. I think President’s Day is a somehow perfect day to start telling you a story, don’t you, dear readers? I have been promising this here story for a ‘coon’s age – well, the ‘coon is now old enough. There have been many reasons for my not telling the story prior to this, but several things have happened recently that were so nauseating that I decided, what the hell – we live right here in the United States of America, and one of the things those very Presidents who we are celebrating today did was to ensure every American the right of free speech. To tell it the way they see it. And this story will definitely be told the way I see it, since I will be telling it. However, I will tell it fairly and squarely and honestly, from my perspective, of course. Others may have other perspectives. This will be a serialized story, and will take a bit of time to tell. It’s complex – filled with intrigue, suspense, duplicity, ignorance, blind trust, behind-the-scenes machinations, legal maneuverings, slander, well, all the things that make for good story-telling.
Once upon a time I had the good fortune to receive an offer that would, in some ways, change my life. I was, at the time of the offer, coming off a two-and-a-half year stint as a producer on a Fox Television program called Totally Hidden Video. I was burned out. I’d spent two-and-a-half years making things that were intrinsically unfunny, funny. I’d written ninety percent of the show (which were voiceovers for the hidden camera bits) and received no credit for that writing. What I did receive was an excellent paycheck. By the time of that show, I’d already decided I didn’t want to toil as an actor – and I’d grown weary of trying to get deals on films to write and direct (the last script I wrote – with my pal David Wechter – before deciding that would, of course, sell some years later and get made – that was The Faculty – go know). And so, in 1993 my “friend” who ran Varese Sarabande, a company which I helped found (their very first release was the soundtrack for The First Nudie Musical), offered me the chance to produce albums for them, to start my own Broadway line, and to basically have total autonomy over what I did, within certain budget constraints. He made it clear that he had no idea about this type of music and also implied that it was a position I could count on for life. And so, I chucked all the other aspects of my life aside and began on a journey which would allow me to find true success doing something I truly loved.
I dove in, and began producing albums in June of 1993. For many years, I produced nineteen albums a year, which, in retrospect, is simply mind-boggling. I don’t mean I licensed nineteen albums a year – I did occasionally license an album, but I’m not counting those – no, I mean I produced, from start to finish, nineteen albums a year. Many of these were my own concepts, such as the Unsung Musicals and Lost In Boston series, or the composer tributes. When I started doing these things, no other label was doing much of anything. Oh, DRG put out a few singer albums, and OC put out a few obscure albums, but the majors were doing, at the very most, one, maybe two cast albums a year (by major, I’m basically only talking about BMG and Sony, as no one else was doing anything back then). It has been said by others that because of the sheer volume of what I did, that I brought recorded theater music back to the forefront, and sure enough, within three years, every other label was back into it in a major way. Suddenly, singer albums were appearing everywhere. Even multiple artist albums, which I, for the most part, had the corner on, began appearing, frequently with singers I’d used regularly (my “stock company” as Ken Mandelbaum used to call them). In any case, I was having a blast doing them – I frequently did the arrangements on the multiple artist albums, and that was great fun for me (I didn’t start taking the credit for my arrangements till much later). I was working with incredible people, and doing albums that were critically acclaimed and which people really seemed to like. The first year, practically everything sold well. Liz Callaway’s first album ultimately sold somewhere around eight thousand, as did the first Lost In Boston and Unsung Musicals albums. Unsung Sonheim sold around seventeen thousand or more, and Michelle Nicastro’s Toonful album sold upwards of twenty-five or thirty thousand. I was producing these albums cheaper than anyone in the world could have done. My pal Billy Rosenfield at BMG was constantly in awe of how cheaply I got things done (without, I may add, sacrificing any quality). We began doing cast albums, too, and those, while very very difficult, were great fun and very challenging to get right.
Now, keep in mind that during all those years, I made a yearly salary. For that salary (which was decent) I did A&R, I ran my division, I oversaw everything, from conceptualizing albums, to the packaging, proofing notes, doing arrangements for free, not to mention producing the albums. In other words, I was doing about six people’s jobs for one person’s salary (other people who did just one of my jobs were making more than I, which I found pretty annoying). And so, from the years 1993 to 1999 I somehow produced 105 albums, most of which were theater-related. I do believe, given the time frame, that no other producer of albums has ever done such a thing (I’m talking about producing an album from scratch). To be continued.
Well, that was a good beginning to a story, wasn’t it? Simple, to the point, setting up for things to come.
Did I mention that I saw Don’t Say A Word? I will, in fact, say a word or two – it’s an okay movie (I know it was a pretty big hit – which shows how starved for these things people are) – competent. As Mr. Fleder, the director, says in the accompanying featurette, you care about the people and that’s very important. He’s right. The leads are very well cast and you do care – Michael Douglas, Famke Jannsen, Brittany Murphy, and the little daughter, all turn in excellent performances. The villains are stock, not well cast, and therefore not very interesting. It’s based on a book by a writer I’m fond of named Andrew Klavan (his brother Lawrence, wrote the libretto for a show I recorded, Bed and Sofa). The book is a nasty, twisted piece of work, but the nastiness, for the most part, is all gone. Mr. Fleder is a director of some hyperbole – every shot, every camera pan, is accompanied by loud swooshing noises which make no sense. This is, apparently, his “style” as he did the same thing in the awful Kiss the Girls. In the featurette, he says it’s very Hitchcockian, which would intimate to me that he has never actually seen a Hitchcock film. It’s pumped up in the modern thriller way, but it moves along at a steady clip and isn’t awful, so I guess that’s why it was a hit. Let’s put it this way: I’ve seen lots worse.
Well, dear readers, I must be on my merry way. I must do the things that I do. It will be interesting during this time of storytelling, to see how many “visitors” show up to use our handy-dandy search box. Yes, Virginia, we have unknown visitors show up on a rather consistent basis and these unknown visitors are always searching for things. I, of course, know exactly what they’re looking for, these unknown visitors. Of course, we welcome everyone here at haineshisway.com, even people who have ulterior motives. Yes, you heard it here, we occasionally have Unknown Visitors with Ulterior Motives. Isn’t that exciting? You’ll hear more about them as the story progresses.
Remember, you have until midnight tonight to offer your Unseemly Trivia Contest guesses – we’ve had quite a few this week and it’s all too too exciting. I’ve got a whole new batch of spiffy prizes to award, too. And don’t forget to tune in to this week’s brand spanking new The Broadway Radio Show – Mr. Donald Feltham assures me that it’s a doozy. He’s got some great upcoming shows, too, with some terrific special guests. Oh, for those who were concerned, whatever it was that was in my eye has seen fit to go away and my eye is fine and dandy now. Today’s topic of discussion will remain favorite finales from musicals. Post away my Kimlets.