Love & Mercy
This is a bad film and a good one too.
It’s bad because the script is hackneyed, too busy with exposition, often unbelievable and certainly unnatural.
But it’s good because it illuminates the insecurity of an artist. The most sensitive amongst us create the greatest work, they illuminate our warts, the human condition, that’s why we love art, not because it’s got a good beat and you can dance to it, but because it makes us feel so not alone.
I wanted to go to the movies, I wanted to get away from life. But with so many entertainment options at our fingertips we only have time for the best, it’s not that I want my fifteen dollars back, but when I see a crappy movie I want my TIME back. They’re not making any more of it folks, use it wisely, it runs out. And there was nothing worth seeing at the ArcLight.
So I checked the streaming services, to see what was available. I’m almost at the end of a thirteen part documentary on World War II on Netflix, I feel like Tony Soprano, watching the History Channel, it’s amazing what you don’t learn in school, my teachers lived through it so they didn’t want to talk about it, they thought I knew it, but I didn’t, and still don’t. Watch “World War II In HD Colour,” yes, it’s colorized, and that sucks, but it’s still riveting.
But I wasn’t in the mood for non-fiction, like I said, I wanted to get away. So I peeked into Amazon Prime and found the Brian Wilson movie.
I love the Beach Boys. Jan & Dean reached me first, but they led me to Brian and the crew. And Brian’s only problem is he lived. Had he died, he’d be equal to John Lennon. But soldiering on, we were subjected to the seventies comeback with the SNL TV show, the eighties comeback with Eugene Landy and the twenty first century comeback with the final recording of “Smile.” How can we miss you when you won’t go away? Brian’s on tour every year, as a matter of fact, I’m seeing him Sunday night!
But it’s bizarre. Because he’s there and he’s not. He’s singing the songs but he’s not. He’s behind the piano but he’s not playing. It’s like going to a living museum, you question your attendance at this freak show.
But what does a family do with a freak?
Especially a drug casualty. Yesterday, on Terry Gross, Maia Szalavitz, an addiction expert, said tough love sucks, as do interventions, you’ve got to be kind. But what if nothing works?
Nothing worked with Brian Wilson.
The first time I saw him was at the movies in Westwood. He was wearing a satin jacket with his name embroidered. I went up and thanked him, told him I was a big fan, I got no response.
At the BMI awards he put his head on our table.
And on his bus a couple of years back he seemed to be talking to anybody but me, but I was the only one there.
That’s a great, someone detached, someone who just isn’t made for these times.
Too much is made about “Pet Sounds” in this flick. That wasn’t the only breakthrough, and I’d be lying if I said it was my favorite.
But I remember it being followed by the first greatest hits album not even two months thereafter, I could tell “Pet Sounds” was a stiff. And I know the legend re Mike Love, which is on screen here, he wants hits, no different from what came before, he’s the embodiment of today’s execs and acts, whereas Brian didn’t want to repeat himself.
Do you want to repeat yourself? Go to work and do the same damn thing day after day? Sounds like death to me. But that’s what they wanted from Brian, despite him being flesh and blood, not a robot on an assembly line.
So we get not only “Pet Sounds,” but “Good Vibrations.” And “‘Til I Die.”
But as much as Brian was sure he wanted to test limits, explore the fringe, beat the Beatles, he was unsure, insecure, that’s the human condition, you’re looking for support, oftentimes where you’ll get it the least, from your dad or your bandmate or your record company… Furthermore, people are confounded when you change, and if you don’t hit the bullseye, they tell you you’re through.
I don’t know how a movie like “Love & Mercy” gets made. Do filmmakers really think great numbers of people are going to pay money to go to a theatre to sit through it? Something that’s not a comic book extravaganza, something that doesn’t even look triumphant on the page?
Thank god for passion projects. But the best thing is movies live on, online, on streaming services, that’s where people see them today, that’s where their largest audience is.
And you should see “Love & Mercy.”
You’ll see an era where recording a great song was the peak of creativity, when Southern California was the epicenter of not only hedonism, but limit-testing, an environment where young people could live like royalty on the basis of song.
0’s and 1’s are much more friendly. It’s much easier to write a hit app than a hit song. And the app economy is based on giving people what they want, as opposed to what they need. Hit records give us a reason to live.
Paul Dano is more Brian Wilson than John Cusack.
Paul Giamatti overplays Eugene Landy, and is wearing a bad wig to boot.
And Melinda is portrayed as a saint, and no one’s that good.
And Brian’s stuck in the middle, alone, he doesn’t know we’re right alongside him.
He’s still here.
But it’s much more about what went down back there.
Funny how we tear everybody down, but when they break through we exalt them. We put them on a pedestal, when the truth is they’re just human, riddled with imperfections and self-doubt.
Brian Wilson may be a bit crazier, and a bunch more talented, but his story is the essence of being a musician, one who digs down deep based on passion and experience to deliver that which cannot be quantified which hopefully will titillate the public’s fancy.
This film focuses on the breakthroughs. Because those are the hardest to achieve. And it illustrates that getting what you want won’t necessarily make you happy.
Brian had hit records, made money, got off the road, was allowed to follow his vision, and he ended up isolated and paralyzed…
Brian Wilson lived for our sins. He could have died and had his legend set in stone, but he kept bumbling on, we all have to bumble on, we’ve all got victories and losses.
But few have peaks as high as Brian Wilson, or valleys as low.
This film will stimulate your artistic instincts, it will make you feel connected in a world that oftentimes seems incomprehensible.
And that’s the job of art.
Which is nearly impossible to get right.
But sometimes there are diamonds amidst the zirconia.
Like in “Love & Mercy.”