|
|
|
William S. Burroughs: A Man Within
R0 - America - Oscilloscope Laboratories Review written by and copyright: Ethan Stevenson (9th April 2011). |
|
The Film
 William S. Burroughs was a somewhat reluctant member of the Beat Generation, although probably the eras most irreverently brilliant mind too. Technically, he’s considered one of the three big names in the 50's counter-culture movement, next to Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. Burroughs influenced not just his contemporaries, but countless other social outcasts from decades on, including many popular musicians from the 60's, 70's, 80's and even early 90's, and filmmakers like Gus Van Sant and John Waters. Burroughs is even credited with coining the terms ‘heavy metal’ and ‘blade runner', and his works are the source of inspiration for countless band names, including Steely Dan, which took their identifier from an object in one of Burroughs’ most famous books. Author of the controversial “Naked Lunch” – notable for being the last American novel to stand major trial for obscenity – as well as his semi-autobiographical “Junkie” (considered to be one of the greatest depictions of heroin addiction circa 1950) and its sort-of-sequel, “Queer”, Burroughs is easily labeled a literary genius and, by some, the greatest American writer of the last fifty years. Harvard educated, Burroughs was an unassuming figure, and looked, relatively, “normal” compared to the bearded, hippy-ish Ginsberg. It’s surprising then (or, not, if you’ve read his work) that such an unusual, troubled soul lurked within Burroughs’ modest exterior. Born in 1914 to an upper-middle-class Midwestern family, and heir to an adding machine “fortune”, William S. Burroughs – or William “Bill” Lee, the pseudonym under which he penned many of his works – was much older than his so-called “beat” colleagues. Although ‘political’ and ‘activist’ are both terms that could be applied to Burroughs, by his own admission he never really felt a connection to his fellow writers and artists on any common philosophical level. He never sought fame and fortune, nor was he really concerned with writing for anyone but himself. Burroughs’ personal relationships largely failed, including his rocky fathering of a son who died from alcohol poisoning at the age of 33, and two marriages that both ended abruptly – one after he accidentally shot his second wife in the head while drunk and playing a screwy version of “William Tell” at a party in Mexico City in 1951. Gay, Burroughs had a serious case of unrequited love for fellow homosexual author Allen Ginsberg, whom he maintained a close, but occasionally bizarre friendship with until Ginsberg’s death in 1996 (Burroughs followed shortly after in 1997). Burroughs was a drug addict. Having lived in Greenwich Village during its “prime”, he quickly graduated from marijuana to diamorphine – or heroin – and remains one of the few crazed individuals to try the CIA’s own unique brand of experimental and powerful LSD as a mere citizen in the mid-50's. He had an obsession with guns, and almost always carried one on him – including his favorite, a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson “snubbie” which he, quite literally, kept under his pillow as he slept. Burroughs had a friend construct a gigantic “silencer” – a humungous hollow tube that allowed the writer and friends to freely shoot handguns in the basement while other acquaintances partied, undistributed, upstairs. To say that William S. Burroughs is a man with a life fit for a movie or book goes without saying. Most of his novels are at least partly autobiographical; director David Cronenberg made Burroughs’ most well known work, “Naked Lunch”, into a film of the same name in 1991. It starred Peter “RoboCop” Weller. Now, documentarian Yony Leyser has given us a fascinating new film about the man and his many eccentricities, called “William S. Burroughs: A Man Within”. It tells the story of this colorful author, through his own words (in excerpted audio recordings, archival interviews, and rare home movies) and the words of those who new him best. Peter Weller both narrates and serves as an interviewee; other faces and names include Patti Smith, Iggy Pop, John Waters, and David Cronenberg, as well as a great number of musicians poets, authors, filmmakers and artists including Fred Aldrich, Laurie Anderson, Amiri Baraka, Lee Ranaldo, Thurston Moore, Genesis P-Orridge, Diane DiPrima, Wayne Propst, Gus Van Sant and Hal Willner. Hell, even Andy Warhol and Allen Ginsberg appear in lengthy stretches of tattered 8mm and 16mm footage – often beside Burroughs – to talk about provocative things like sex and drugs, and, well, William S. Burroughs. This is the best kind of absorbing documentary, meaning that it thoroughly entertains and simultaneously informs. Whether the topic at hand is Burroughs seemingly revolving cast of lovers or his deeply manic personality, Leyser keeps the film moving forward with an obvious passion for the project’s overall subject – the life, death, and legacy of William S. Burroughs. The film is divided into largely free-form chapters, focusing on Burroughs’ early years, his many books, his homosexuality, his influence on rock music and popular culture in general, his interest in weaponry (apparently Burroughs owned what was at the time the most powerful handgun in the world; a gift from who else but Hunter S. Thompson), and Burroughs’ later years where he retired in Kansas (and combined his love of guns and art to create “shotgun art”). But the documentary is great not because it simply celebrates the man on which it’s focused; it’s great because Leyser and his interviewees aren’t afraid to look at Burroughs’ more sinister side too. Unedited home movies show the darker corners to his mind and character, and the discussion of Burroughs’ failures as a husband and father (to a step-daughter he rarely spoke to or of, and a son whom he neglected and ultimately drove to fatal alcoholism) take up a good chunk of the runtime. “William S. Burroughs: A Man Within” is an excellent documentary – a little rough around the edges perhaps, but understandably so (first-time director-writer-producer Yony Leyser was working with meager budget of $100,000 and relatively independently, outside of the support from a studio system). “A Man Within” has one real flaw – the piece is just too short, and that’s more praise than a real criticism. I could have easily done with another half-hour on William S. Burroughs – there’s obviously material there to fill that time – and even with said addition the film would clock in under two-hours. Still, for an independently financed documentary on a man more captivating than I would have possibly imagined, this is brilliant stuff. Whole-heartedly recommended.
Video
One moment rough and grainy, another moment the picture is smooth and clear. Sometimes black & white, other times in color. Animation, practical photography, 30-year-old home movies and newly shot interviews. The best thing I can say about this anamorphic 1.78:1 widescreen transfer is that it accurately reflects the source material. Made up of a mish-mash of 8mm, 16mm, and 35mm film, Hi8, VHS, even brand-new high definition videotape, and a series of still photographs and graphics, all from over a span of six decades and from sources of varying degrees of disrepair, “A Man Within” sports a rather dynamic (by which I mean ever-changing) look due to its haphazard mixing of formats. Some of the material – like the new HD interviews – looks great; other bits (the stuff shot on antiquated low-res video and/or sourced from unrestored 8mm film) are awash with all sorts of unwanted artifacts and age-related defects. The DVD accurately reflects the source; the source is just sometimes pretty awful looking.
Audio
A simple but effective English Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo mix (48kHz/224 kbps) does a fine job delivering the straightforward, narration-centric audio. Primarily concerned with voice-over, a tiny bit of aural flavor appears in the form of an eclectic score (by Lee Ranaldo, Thurston Moore and Devin McNulty) and a soundtrack featuring music from Sonic Youth, Patti Smith, Kurt Cobain, and Master Musicians of Jajouka. Of course, mostly just a hodge-podge of interviews and Banzai-Institute-sponsored narration, the film’s soundstage is rather limited in scope. Despite being built from a wide variety of sources, the mix holds up well and there’s little issue with the actual material. Instances of hiss, pops and cracks are few and far between. Speech is almost always clear; the few portions of the film that do suffer for turning to less-than-stellar elements – like the Burroughs-Warhol interview – feature helpful burnt-in subtitles. Optional subtitles are available in English.
Extras
A number of great bonuses supplement “A Man Within” including a handful of worthwhile deleted scenes, a few absorbing short films featuring rare home movies of Burroughs in his final days, additional featurettes concerned with Burroughs and his work, an informative Q&A session with director Yony Leyser and more. All video-based extras are presented in anamorphic 1.78:1 widescreen unless otherwise noted. 3 deleted scenes take a look at Burroughs’ artwork, including: - “Burroughs’s Art Supplies” (2 minutes 14 seconds). Wayne Propst, an artist and good friend of William S. Burroughs appears in this excised scene to look though a box containing some of Burroughs’ art supplies and remnants of his famous “shotgun art”. - “The Mummies” (1 minute 48 seconds). Propst returns to shows off a series of “sculptures” created by Burroughs. Propst tells a story about what his friend did with one of these so-called “mummies” after it failed to sell at auction. - “Painting with George Condo” (1.33:1 full-frame, 2 minutes 58 seconds) is archival footage by filmmaker John McNaughton featuring Burroughs and Condo discussing the world of art. “W.S.B – Home Movies” (1.33:1 full frame, 16 minutes 43 seconds) is a short film shot by Wayne Propst in 1996 with a camcorder. This assemblage of rare home movies – showing Burroughs in his final days – features the writer singing, smoking, and drinking with friends Patti Smith, Steve Buscemi, Allen Ginsberg, James Grauerhotz and others at his home in Lawrence, Kansas. William S. Burroughs wields weapons to make more shotgun art in a short film simply titled “Shotgun Art” (1.33:1 full frame, 2 minutes 37 seconds). Grant Hart from Hüsker Dü shot this home movie on Super8; it hasn’t been restored and features massive flaring and fading along with print damage and terrible discoloration. Despite this, the sight of a frail old man firing a doubled-barreled 12-gauge into objects at close range is too insane to miss. “Sonic Youth Visit” (1.33:1 full-frame, 3 minutes 7 seconds) is yet another short film. This home movie, shot by members Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo, features seminal avant-garde noise rock band Sonic Youth visiting Burroughs in Lawrence, Kansas in 1995. The film was shot on Super8 and is narrated by Ranaldo. “‘Naked Lunch’ 50th Anniversary Celebration” (15 minutes 20 seconds) is a featurette. Actor Peter Weller, poets John Giorno and Anne Waldman, artist Penny Arcade, music producer Hal Willner, Dr. Bill Ayers, and others pay tribute to William S. Burroughs in this piece presented by the Chicago International Movies and Music Festival held at Th!nkArt Salon in Chicago in 2009. Burroughs reads “The Last Words of Hassan Sabbah” in a satirical music video called “Rub out the Word” (1.33:1 full frame, 3 minutes 22 seconds) created by Burroughs’ friend, artist Roger Holden. Dennis “Boog” Highberger – former mayor of Lawrence, Kansas – makes a special guest appearance. In a featurette dubbed “Psalm 23 Revisited” (1 minute 15 seconds) Patti Smith recites something she wrote for Burroughs. She reads the brief poem in Burroughs’ former New York City apartment, now a museum in a building maintained by John Giorno, in 2009. “Director Yony Leyser at BFI London Film Festival 2010” (11 minutes 57 seconds) is a revealing Q&A session with the first time director, moderated by Damon Wise. The director talks about how he came to make a film on Burroughs, getting kicked out of film school, his thoughts on the works of William S. Burroughs and more. A tab for “Oscilloscope Films” includes bonus trailers for recent releases from the distributor’s library, including one for “William S. Burroughs: A Man Within” (1 minute 41 seconds). bonus trailers for “Scott Walker: 30 Century Man” (1 minute 42 seconds), the wonderful portrait of Maurice Sendak “Tell Them Anything You Want” (38 seconds) by Lance Bangs and Spike Jonze, and “Howl” (1.85:1 widescreen, 1 minute 43 seconds) starring James Franco, are also provided.
Packaging
“William S. Burroughs: A Man Within” debuts on DVD from Adam Yauch’s Oscilloscope Laboratories as spine number 27. Typical of the company’s often-elaborate packaging the dual layered DVD-9 comes housed in a multi-paneled digipak made of 100% recycled material. The eco-cardboard digipak includes essays by David Byrne (called “The Man Next Door”) and Richard Hell (titled “Lessons from the Wicked True Order”). The digipak slides into an outer box; the disc itself slides into a sleeve inside the digipak. The package is marked as Region 0 and should be playable around the globe, although note that the video content is encoded in NTSC format.
Overall
The one real flaw I find with Yony Leyser’s otherwise fantastic documentary “William S. Burroughs: A Man Within” is that, at 86-minutes with credits, it’s just too damn short. Yes, Leyser’s film and the man it dissects is so interesting that I wanted more of it; that’s a pretty flattering criticism. Oscilloscope’s home video release is a worthwhile package in itself with faithful-to-the-source A/V and some fascinating extras. Highly recommended.
|
|||||
|