Psychedelic Film Criticism for the legally insane

Thursday, August 05, 2010

Great Acid Shorts: BLACK AND TAN FANTASY (1929)



You can draw a thin but prominent line after a certain moment in jazz history, and the early-sound Duke Ellington short BLACK AND TAN FANTASY (1929) could be the pen, when jazz split into sanitized radio 'sweet' music ala Benny Goodman or "the old Maestro" on one hand, and the delirious forward-thinking danger of Louis Armstrong and his Hot Fives on the other. But in between raged Duke Ellington, using the big band format to craft elaborate, beautiful, wistful, dark, surreal and elegant yet raw and bluesy compositions that sound fresh and new to this day. Perhaps the only jazz artist to really follow in his wake is Charles Mingus, who turned the big band style on its ear, like a broken octopus ride at Coney Island.

Duke's first film appearance, the film reflects this mix of surrealism, elegance and social commentary. Floating elegantly by in 20 minutes or so, it begins as a piano rehearsal set around an almost-repossessed piano, segues into dance numbers on the Cotton Club stage and a star female dancer already exhausted, killing herself, red-shoe style in a drugged-out shimmy, finally dying in a shadowy backstage dressing room as her last request, that they play her "that Black and Tan," becomes a bedside serenade, kind of like the dwarfs singing to comatose Snow White in the Disney cartoon which was still some eight years off.

Alas, most of the versions viewable as of this writing on the web are just the music segments edited together, so you miss the drama of Duke, his dancer Fredi Washington (above) and his trumpeter (Arthur Whetsol) bribing the collection agency piano movers with a quart of bootleg gin. And you miss the backstage drama of the doctor warning Fredi not to dance because of a heart condition, and her psychedelic collapse, but the more complete version can be found in a highly-recommended Kino compilation.

Along with Satchmo, Duke is the perfect guy to wind down with after a long crazy night of psychedelic colors and angry inner demons devouring the soul. But while Armstrong focuses on the cheery and fun side of the psychedelic abyss, Duke never shies from plunging down into the obsidian oval with you, and you're glad for the company, because when it comes to locating the redeeming angel of mercy at the core of the dark and lonesome blues, Duke was like a magic bloodhound.

The film also offers a rare and precious glimpse of the kind of stuff white patrons would see at the Cotton Club where the Duke often held court, and lithe black Venus-style flappers gyrated in a manner that might be too shocking even for pre-code Hollywood. But Harlem was Harlem, and in this marvelous little 20 minute film, you see just why it mattered, and still should.


Standing at the dawn of the sound age with few surviving peers, BLACK AND TAN FANTASY still crackles with weird, lysergic power. That muted trumpet in the beginning can light up your spine like a Kundalini serpent if you're chemically open to it, so open up! As they used to say at prohibition era parties when the guy arrived with the suitcase full of bootleg booze for sale, "that man is here!"

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