"It must've been tough being Marlowe in the time of Shakespeare," director Ken Bowser commenting at a March 2011 US screening on the music business shadow that Bob Dylan cast over the genius of Phil Ochs.
Until a friend of mine recently introduced me to the music of Phil Ochs, I had absolutely no idea that Ochs was the composer of "I Ain't Marchin' Anymore," despite the fact that I'd heard and even sang the song, myself, many times before, at anti-war and "progressive" rallies over the decades. It was treated like a public domain anthem.
The reason for my ignorance wasn't entirely my own fault.
It's pretty clear to me that the music business and mainstream media did it's level best to erase Phil Ochs from the public consciousness, even though his music refused to die.
It's no consolation that you can run a search on him in iTunes, when you realize how much stuff has been destroyed. Even the predecessor to PBS was involved in the destruction of valuable and unique archival tapes of Ochs, on the grounds of fiscal conservatism -- anything Ochs just wasn't worth the cost of keeping around.
PHIL OCHS: THERE BUT FOR FORTUNE is an awards worthy first step in the direction of unerasing and restoring Ochs to the public's consciousness. It's long overdue and just in the nick of time, too. The things that Ochs cared (from the heart) and wrote and sang about are urgently relevant today.
I'd like to ask everyone who's curious about and/or moved by PO:TBFF to run a web search on four articles, written in 2011 by B E Levine, P S Brown, M Simmons and D Loranger, that appear in Counterpunch, so that I might devote my space here to other matters. Those folks provide unique and valuable, if not excellent, specific commentary and insight into Ochs' work and significance that nicely compliment and augment the film.
For those who criticize Bowser's treatment of the music in this documentary, let it be known that Bowser said that there are at least two more feature length films worth of unused documentary material that he uncovered and would like to do something with.
I told Bowser that if he doesn't get around to making those films, I will come looking for him. There's no deadline, but there's an absolute expectation.
As it was, this film faced a decades long battle of unearthing, restoring and assembling surviving (in some cases, barely surviving) archival footage of Ochs, himself, in concert and in conversation. The royalties (none of which went to Ochs' estate), for what footage was included, consumed more than 80% of the total production budget.
That's not all. This film was originally booked to run theatrically in only a dozen US cities; but, by sheer force of word of mouth, it is now, as of this writing, slated to open, in 2011, in more than an hundred. The capstone to this ascending trend would be an Academy Award in 2012. Yes, I'm predicting.
And give Bowser a break about The Music.
Ochs composed or recorded more than 238 songs, which completely dwarfs the 97 minutes of this film, end-to-end.
Bowser has *promised* that there will be full-length song performances included, as bonus material, on the DVD that is due out in the Summer of 2011. We can hold off sharpening any knives until and unless those tracks fail to materialize.
The genius of this introductory primer to Ochs is that it raises as many questions as it answers and, more importantly, it whets the appetite for much, much more.
I absolutely want to have a say about any follow on documentaries.
Part 2 should focus primarily on the music, from the perspective of Ochs' artistic influences (which were much broader than just fellow musicians) and his artistic/social goals. Ochs was quite articulate about these things and it'd be terrific to hear him speak - and sing - this part of the story as fully as possible.
Part 3 should focus on the aspects of mental health and mental illness that played a role in Ochs' life and death. The major point being that there's still very little real world, public, if not scientific/medical, understanding of manic depression. What contributed to Ochs' early demise is still killing people today, because manic depression is much more than just a disease or a diagnosis. Its effective ongoing treatment, especially in high functioning individuals, is a very complicated, if not tortuous matter. Part 3 should also celebrate Ochs' sense of humor.
Beyond the realm of documentary, Ochs' story also deserves a feature length, dramatic bio-pic treatment. I can see Sean Penn expertly playing the "older" Ochs, but a different actor could/should be cast to play the politically and musically awakening Ochs, from college into the All The News That's Fit To Sing period.
Let me make it clear that I find no contradictions whatsoever, between Ochs' "politics," his embrace of "heroic" American iconography, his expanding musical horizons and wanting to be famous.
It's only fickle fans and critics (the latter of which, quoting Ben Sidran, "Don't know how to swim, can't even float!"), who fabricate contradictions where there are none.
Ochs was asking all of the right questions, of himself and those around him, who claimed to care about social change and the role that art can consciously play in it.
I'm adding Ochs' recordings to my personal music collection, as budget permits, where it'll be in as heavy a rotation as my complete collection of the recordings of Gil Scott-Heron. (Now, you all have heard of GS-H, right?)
One good place to start is iTunes, where there's a slowly growing body of legally free resources on Ochs to partake of.
Peace. Out.
Until a friend of mine recently introduced me to the music of Phil Ochs, I had absolutely no idea that Ochs was the composer of "I Ain't Marchin' Anymore," despite the fact that I'd heard and even sang the song, myself, many times before, at anti-war and "progressive" rallies over the decades. It was treated like a public domain anthem.
The reason for my ignorance wasn't entirely my own fault.
It's pretty clear to me that the music business and mainstream media did it's level best to erase Phil Ochs from the public consciousness, even though his music refused to die.
It's no consolation that you can run a search on him in iTunes, when you realize how much stuff has been destroyed. Even the predecessor to PBS was involved in the destruction of valuable and unique archival tapes of Ochs, on the grounds of fiscal conservatism -- anything Ochs just wasn't worth the cost of keeping around.
PHIL OCHS: THERE BUT FOR FORTUNE is an awards worthy first step in the direction of unerasing and restoring Ochs to the public's consciousness. It's long overdue and just in the nick of time, too. The things that Ochs cared (from the heart) and wrote and sang about are urgently relevant today.
I'd like to ask everyone who's curious about and/or moved by PO:TBFF to run a web search on four articles, written in 2011 by B E Levine, P S Brown, M Simmons and D Loranger, that appear in Counterpunch, so that I might devote my space here to other matters. Those folks provide unique and valuable, if not excellent, specific commentary and insight into Ochs' work and significance that nicely compliment and augment the film.
For those who criticize Bowser's treatment of the music in this documentary, let it be known that Bowser said that there are at least two more feature length films worth of unused documentary material that he uncovered and would like to do something with.
I told Bowser that if he doesn't get around to making those films, I will come looking for him. There's no deadline, but there's an absolute expectation.
As it was, this film faced a decades long battle of unearthing, restoring and assembling surviving (in some cases, barely surviving) archival footage of Ochs, himself, in concert and in conversation. The royalties (none of which went to Ochs' estate), for what footage was included, consumed more than 80% of the total production budget.
That's not all. This film was originally booked to run theatrically in only a dozen US cities; but, by sheer force of word of mouth, it is now, as of this writing, slated to open, in 2011, in more than an hundred. The capstone to this ascending trend would be an Academy Award in 2012. Yes, I'm predicting.
And give Bowser a break about The Music.
Ochs composed or recorded more than 238 songs, which completely dwarfs the 97 minutes of this film, end-to-end.
Bowser has *promised* that there will be full-length song performances included, as bonus material, on the DVD that is due out in the Summer of 2011. We can hold off sharpening any knives until and unless those tracks fail to materialize.
The genius of this introductory primer to Ochs is that it raises as many questions as it answers and, more importantly, it whets the appetite for much, much more.
I absolutely want to have a say about any follow on documentaries.
Part 2 should focus primarily on the music, from the perspective of Ochs' artistic influences (which were much broader than just fellow musicians) and his artistic/social goals. Ochs was quite articulate about these things and it'd be terrific to hear him speak - and sing - this part of the story as fully as possible.
Part 3 should focus on the aspects of mental health and mental illness that played a role in Ochs' life and death. The major point being that there's still very little real world, public, if not scientific/medical, understanding of manic depression. What contributed to Ochs' early demise is still killing people today, because manic depression is much more than just a disease or a diagnosis. Its effective ongoing treatment, especially in high functioning individuals, is a very complicated, if not tortuous matter. Part 3 should also celebrate Ochs' sense of humor.
Beyond the realm of documentary, Ochs' story also deserves a feature length, dramatic bio-pic treatment. I can see Sean Penn expertly playing the "older" Ochs, but a different actor could/should be cast to play the politically and musically awakening Ochs, from college into the All The News That's Fit To Sing period.
Let me make it clear that I find no contradictions whatsoever, between Ochs' "politics," his embrace of "heroic" American iconography, his expanding musical horizons and wanting to be famous.
It's only fickle fans and critics (the latter of which, quoting Ben Sidran, "Don't know how to swim, can't even float!"), who fabricate contradictions where there are none.
Ochs was asking all of the right questions, of himself and those around him, who claimed to care about social change and the role that art can consciously play in it.
I'm adding Ochs' recordings to my personal music collection, as budget permits, where it'll be in as heavy a rotation as my complete collection of the recordings of Gil Scott-Heron. (Now, you all have heard of GS-H, right?)
One good place to start is iTunes, where there's a slowly growing body of legally free resources on Ochs to partake of.
Peace. Out.