Wild Man Blues

1997
6.9| 1h45m| NA| en| More Info
Released: 16 January 1997 Released
Producted By: Cabin Creek Films
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Wild Man Blues is a 1998 documentary film directed by Barbara Kopple, about the musical avocation of actor/director/comic Woody Allen. The film takes its name from a jazz composition sometimes attributed to Jelly Roll Morton and sometimes to Louis Armstrong and recorded by both (among others). Allen's love of early 20th century New Orleans music is depicted through his 1996 tour of Europe with his New Orleans Jazz Band. Allen has played clarinet with this band for over 25 years. Although Allen's European tour is the film's primary focus, it was also notable as the first major public showcase for Allen's relationship with Soon-Yi Previn.

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Director

Barbara Kopple

Production Companies

Cabin Creek Films

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Wild Man Blues Audience Reviews

Palaest recommended
Solidrariol Am I Missing Something?
RipDelight This is a tender, generous movie that likes its characters and presents them as real people, full of flaws and strengths.
Huievest Instead, you get a movie that's enjoyable enough, but leaves you feeling like it could have been much, much more.
angry127 I always knew that Woody Allen had a Jazz band. I think anyone that has seen more than five of his movies probably knows that. Many of his films claim that the recordings for the soundtracks were done by Woody Allen and his band. I like the music his band plays. I'm not very familiar with New Orleans Jazz or Jazz in general. But, I still think I can understand and enjoy it the way Woody Allen says he enjoys it.This movie is a complete train wreck. I remember Francis Ford Coppola was contemplating suicide on film because he thought Apocalypse Now was going to turn out to be a complete and utter failure or an unfinished project. I could imagine the director of this documentary coming to the same conclusions.The problem is, Woody Allen is a more interesting character when he is writing or performing. Watching this movie shows us how average his life is (when taking into account the small things that make up life). This movie could have just as well been about a plumber unclogging pipes, or a mail man delivering mail. I don't see what makes a movie about a famous director staying in hotels grasping in any intellectual, philosophical, or emotional fashion.And that is basically what this movie is. Its him and his wife staying in hotels, going on airplanes, and doing gigs. The gigs eventually get as boring as the airplane rides. The movie feels more like a reality show than a documentary. Do we care that hot water was not working in Woody Allen's hotel? Do we care that he would rather get bitten by a dog than licked by one? Do we care about the omelets Woody Allen's wife orders for breakfast? If any of use answered yes to any of those questions, maybe we should re watch some Woody Allen movies to see the qualities that we were most certainly missing.
bobm5508 I have been a Woody Allen fan most of my life. I enjoyed his silly era ("Bananas", "Sleeper"), his playful stuff ("Annie Hall", "Hannah and Her Sisters") and especially his thoughtful movies ("Crime And Misdemeanors", "Manhattan"). I'll leave the last decade or so alone, since making a movie a year has got repetitious and somewhat stale.All that said, I remain a fan and was excited to see a documentary on Encore, of his 90's European tour with his "New Orleans Jazz Band". I have seen him perform with his band, so I knew the quality of his playing and his excellent band would add to any enjoyment of the movie. Helmed by an award winning director, I was most interested in that phase of his life. The timeframe was shortly after he announced his love for his ex-lover's adopted daughter, Soon-Yi Previn. Their relationship, prior to their marriage, is depicted here with no intimate moments, but they have a "nice", gentle chemistry with each other. She encourages him, mildly scolds him, comforts him and seems to enjoy their trip. Despite being 35 years younger, she seems to be the more travel savvy, even the more adult of the two. This is probably because Woody is out of his New York routine. He is followed every foot of the way by photographers, has pre and post concert functions to attend, and must stay in suites that are a tad pretentious to his NY roots. Its fun to watch, if a bit sterile. As expected, much of the film is dedicated to his on stage playing and it is decidedly good. His band is in excellent form. The crowds are very appreciative, almost all adoring fans. While the crowd in Rome is a bit stoic, Woody still plays his 90 minute plus show.There are some eavesdropped conversation that show his wit, and some of his foibles (he must have his own bathroom, he seems to always be starving, etc.). His conversation with fans, and even his parents, bounce from appreciative to impatient, but mostly seem fair. He is able to come and go as he pleases in NYC, but is pushed and prodded pretty good here.The most telling quote about his life is summed up by a roof top conversation with Soon-Yi. He admits that he loves NY and loves Europe, but....he'd always rather be in NY when he's in Europe and Europe when he's home. He admits that it is difficult to enjoy things, given that phobia. I enjoyed having a camera's eye there for me to observe. The odd and soundly criticized relationship with Soon-Yi seems to have withstood the test of time. Woodman, keep playing your music!!
drosse67 I would not recommend this to even die-hard fans...unless you love jazz. There is a lot of jazz, some nice footage of Woody playing. But don't expect him to discuss his films. And then you have the glimpses into his personal life, with Soon Yi. More than I really cared to know. There are a few comments he makes that solidify his reputation as being reclusive, and not a particularly nice person. I thought of Kathleen Turner's infamous (and possibly career-killing) quote: "Fans, who needs these people?" Watching this movie is like eavesdropping--I can understand why this is not on DVD. Unlike Madonna, this documentary is not meant to boost sales or exposure. He has some big fans overseas (more overseas than in the States, it would seem). So this movie plays to them, and to jazz fans perhaps. But not to anyone else. And this is coming from a real fan of his work. You can skip this.
harry-76 If you thought you had be Jewish or from New York to fully appreciate Woody Allen, this movie proves otherwise.Documentarian Barbara Kopple took her hand-held camera on Allen's '96 European tour, in which he and his jazz band played a whopping 18 concerts in 23 days. She photographed him everywhere but in the "john": in airplanes, hotel rooms, lobbies, receptions, backstage, onstage, in the streets--everywhere. His deadpan quips and jousts buoy up what would have been a conventional travelogue. You're never sure whether Allen's being serious or satiric, but one finds one's self laughing at nearly all his comments. He's just an amusing guy. For comedic reasons, it certainly helps that Woody has one of the funniest faces around--even without his "vanishing creme and beauty gel" he comments is amongst his toilitry. As to his tour, this is a chance to see and hear what's been talked about for years. That is, an example of Woody's playing in that certain lower Manhattan pub where he's tooted his "licorice stick"--even being loyal to that group one year rather than bothering to go pick up an "Oscar."Playing the clarinet since age 15, Allen admits to practicing two hours daily--a "must," he says, "just to keep the chops in shape." It also helps that his playing is "only a hobby, to have fun." Judging from his New Orleans style jazz performance, he's probably being quite honest. But he also seems to be bringing some extra-musical attributes to his concerts--a whole range of associations with his past creative efforts. All the laughs, pleasures, joys, frustrations, and sorrows associated with his total body of work seem to be reprised as he--now a genuine icon--stands there, slim of body, pouring his heart out in every selection. Ably assisted by musicians on the trumpet, trombone, drums, piano, banjo and bass, Allen is clearly the star, appearing in a strictly all-musical format. There are only a few words of introduction and closing sentences from him. The rest is ninety minutes of pure music.How remarkable are his European followers! They simply love and adore him. They mob him outside his hotel, backstage and through the streets as he walks, taking endless photos ("It's the same photo," he quips). They wave ecstatically at him as he takes gondola rides in Venice. The staid English stand and cheer at the end of his London concerts. Nationalistic Parisians drool over his weak attempts to greet them in French. Europeans also love the more esoteric Allen films, like "Interiors," which flopped in the US. There's no doubt: Woody Allen is an overseas hero. An added final bonus is Allen with his mom and dad in their NYC apartment, they obviously proud of but publicly reserved about their son's accomplishments. "In spite of the fact that you beat me daily," Allen quips to his mom. We're fortunate to have this 105-minute documentary for posterity. It may prove increasingly valuable as time goes on.