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`The Behrend Beacon
: lack's 'School' rocks
Joan Cusack goes toe-to-toe with the tenacious Jack Black in "School of Rock."
review by Daniel J. Stasiewski
"School of Rock" is going to do for Jack Black what "Liar
Liar" did for Jim Carrey. The "family" comedy still relies on
the Black his teenage and twenty-something fanatics love, but
his naturally burnt-out appearance and flamboyantly cumber
some physical humor don't necessarily scream superstardom.
What makes Black a phenomenon is his unyielding command
of the screen. He does the impossible and out shines a room of
talented 10-year-olds. True, the kids are all a hunch of prep
school stiffs at first, but Black's elaborate comedic escapades
show his students have a wild side and his audience has a flex
ible sense of humor.
Black plays his usual character, this time named Dewey Finn.
Finn is a wild man, and his larger-than-life stage presence gets
him kicked out of the band he created. He sleeps surrounded by
rock memorabilia, rotting food--and I assume a few empty dime
bags and a bong.
But it's not in his apartment. Finn lives in a corner of his best
friend Ned's (Mike White) place. Finn has no money for rent so
` Ned's straight-and-narrow girlfriend tries to kick the slacker
'‘./ out, forcing him to find "real job," fast.
4, 3 ,1 ' •Vinn sinks.so low he almost sells his guitar, but a call for his
it,) friend to substitute teach at a swanky prep school comes in and
Finn poses as Ned to get the job. There, the up-tight principal
(Joan Cusack) tells him to stick to the curriculum and follow
the rules, but Finn just tells the kids to go have recess. The kids
agree, listen to his occasional ranting and raving and on Tues
days go to music class.
When Finn follows the students to a music lesson, he sees
talent. The rock-junkie starts to stroke their upper-class egos
and creates a detailed school project, a rock hand with Finn as
the lead. Finn teaches his students the lessons of rock, hut the
Stone puts soul into her music
by Tom Moon
Knight Ridder Newspapers
Do you have to be black to possess that
elusive quality known as "soul"?
R&B veteran Betty Wright, of "Clean
Up Woman" fame, doesn't think so.
"I never looked at a person and said
'that's a soul singer' judging by the color
of their skin," says the 49-year-old artist,
who is African-American. "I used to get
so ticked by that thinking, you know, 'if
she's black she sings soul and if she's
white she sings pop."
Wright doesn't need to argue the point
these days. All she has to do is put on
"The Soul Sessions" (S-curve, 3 stars),
the just-issued debut CD by Joss Stone
that she helped produce.
Stone is a white 16-year-old from the
English village of Devon. But when she
sings Aretha Franklin or Carla Thomas,
she sounds like one of those semi-anony
mous background singers who, after serv
ing up attitude on countless recordings
• from Detroit or Memphis, has emerged
from the shadows with a few scores to
settle. She has the natural voice, the crazy
ad-lib skills and an ability to project wis
dom that is well beyond her years.
"What I love about Joss," Wright said
the other day from New York, where she
was helping Stone prepare for a record
release show, is that "she's so contrary to
what people have been brought up to be
lieve. Most of the young girls who are
setting out to be stars don't have anything
to contribute musically."
On a recent trip to Philadelphia to do
promotion, Stone confessed that she
stumbled into soul. She's not one of those
UK soul fanatics who know the name of
every drummer to record for Stax. In fact,
she says, "I don't know the history of any
of it. I just know I like singing it." And
though her friends listen to everything
from Missy Elliott to Tracy Chapman to
a&e editor
Whitney Houston, she's given up trying
to convert them to the classics.
"One time I tried to play Aretha
Franklin," recalls Stone, whose father is
a big fan of the old British punk trio the
Jam (and was stunned to learn his daugh
ter has plans to collaborate with front man
Paul Weller) but also keeps soul and jazz
CDs around the house. After putting on
"Respect," she remembers getting a blank
stare from a friend.
"I was like, 'How can you not like this?'
but she just wasn't feeling it. That was a
good lesson for me. Now I don't even play
my music for (friends). It's not their
thing."
"The Soul Sessions," a collection of
covers, happened almost by accident,
Stone says. After winning a British TV
talent show, the singer found herself in
undated with offers. She quickly acquired
management, then accepted a recording
contract with S-curve Records, the inde
pendent run by Steve Greenberg, who
helped launch Hanson in the early '9os.
At Greenberg's suggestion, Stone trav
eled to the States to collaborate with
songwriter Desmond Child, who lives in
Miami. They wrote several songs--Stone
expects at least one to surface on an al
bum of contemporary-leaning originals
she's working on--and she met Wright.
The next thing she knew, she was in the
studio recording with a band of soul vet
erans including organist Timmy Thomas
("Why Can't We Live Together") and gui
tarist Little Beaver.
Throughout the four-day whirlwind
that yielded most of the set, Stone soaked
up the insights of Wright, an
underappreciated genius of R&B.
"Betty is just so amazing," says Stone,
who explains that Wright suggested some
of the CD's material, including Franklin's
hit "All the King's Horses," and provided
a few basic "guide" vocals. "She sings in
that way that lets you know she's feeling
10111111 I siiff , 1111 t. "s N
mei r r
parents inevitably misunderstand his passion because their eyes
are on Harvard, not the House of Blues.
As I said before, Finn is not an unusual character for Black.
In fact, I'd bet the role was written for him. He's a teacher who
breaks all the rules and tells kids everything they're not sup
posed to hear (but will come to experience like the rest of us).
Black's tirade about "The Man" is the highlight of the film.
Later on, when one student says to the principal, "You're the
man" we start to get the impact of Finn as a mentor.
Some of the credit for Black's performance does go to direc
tor Richard Linklater, who lets Black perform. Linklater at one
point keeps the camera on Black for one long take, providing
Black with one of his best opportunities to show off.
Even veteran actress Joan Cusack surrenders to Black's com
edy and doesn't try to outdo him. Cusack is funny in her own
way, more subdued. Her character dresses like Miss Gulch from
"The Wizard of Oz" and is stiffer than year-old gum on the
bottom of a desk. Though she's mostly eclipsed by Black,
Cusack doesn't hesitate to work with Black's eccentric person
ality, allowing for the stick in her character's ass to loosen a hit.
The film makes allusions to drug use and has a few sexual
references, not excluding a groupie joke, but it's nothing com
pared to a normal Black flick. "School of Rock" is a bizarre
film in that it won't let down a Black fan, showing his comedic
grace is steadfast even without barefaced stoner jokes. And it's
not something a 10-year-old shouldn't see. Black is surprisingly
compassionate when it comes to the kids, pulling off an unfor
gettable rock show and giving their confidence a kick in the
ass. The one thing Black has to do now is figure out how much
marijuana and McDonald's $2O million can get him.
"School of Rock," directed by Richard
Linklater and starring Jack Black and Joan
Cusack, is currently showing at Tinsletown.
11444 41'
vi,A4
Friday, October 3, 2003
it. To me, Betty's like a preacher in ev
erything she sings."
Wright says she showed Stone some ru
dimentary things, such as how to shape
her phrases and to leave room for the
songs to breathe. But she didn't have to
do much.
"If I sang a note," Wright recalled,
"she'd be right there to trade the note.
Sometimes she'd ask me to do a phrase
again, and by the second time she had it.
Every time she'd encounter something
new, she just went for it. I kept throwing
different songs and different ideas at her.
She tried all of it."
Among "The "Soul Sessions — delights
is to hear Stone tear away from the fa
miliar melody of, say, the Isley Brothers'
"For the Love of You" or the Drifters'
"Some Kind of Wonderful" and impro
vise. In a voice that's resolute but never
severe, she brings songs written before
she was born into the present and com
municates feeling without shouting or
showboating. On the White Stripes'"Fell
in Love With a Boy," which features the
Roots, Stone transforms the simple, sing
song melody into a poised, timeless slice
of autobiography.
When asked about her version of "All
the King's Horses," Stone cringes. "I just
want to say I'm sorry to all the Aretha
Franklin fans. I know I shouldn't have
done it. I don't think it's possible to even
get close to what she did. All I can say is
I was scared, petrified, recording it."
But despite her reverence for many soul
greats, Stone never viewed their smolder
ing ballads as sacred texts, never felt that
the music was off-limits.
"I've gotten questions like, ' What are
you doing, singing this music?' " she says,
showing slight annoyance. "And to me,
it's so simple. This is music that can make
you cry or change your perspective. When
I sing it, I know people feel something.
Isn't that enough'?"
Johnny Weissmuller dove off the
Brooklyn Bridge into the East River,
and a stampede of circus elephants
helped Tarzan and Jane rescue Boy
from kidnappers. That's what the
Tarzan beloved by millions does.
The producers of The WB's "Tarzan"
have no grasp of any of this. They don't
appreciate anything that has made
Edgar Rice Burroughs' King of the
Jungle an enduring favorite. The WB's
"Tarzan" is dark and humorless. There
are no exotic animals, not even Chee
tah. The Jane of lore and Boy don't ex
ist in this Tarzan's world. They never
did.
Paramount Pictures
The Superman update "Smallville"
has its "no tights, no flights" rule. This
"Tarzan," starring fashion hunk Travis
Fimmel, has its own maxim. accord
ing to executive producer Eric Kripke.
"Our exact words are, 'No loincloth,
no yodeling.' We don't want that.... It's
really going to be a 'Tarzan' people
have never seen before."
It's a "Tarzan" people have never
seen before because it's "Tarzan" in
name only. Kripke has decided that he
knows more than the dozens of produc
ers and directors who have created al
most a hundred "Tartans" around the
globe for going on a century. Even al
lowing for the concept's heightened
reality, the feats the new "Tarzan" per
forms are out of character and ludi
crously unbelievable.
The first time Tarzan is seen in
Sunday's premiere, he's strapped to a
gurney, shackled like someone about
to receive a lethal injection. Using brute
strength, he breaks out of his bonds.
As unlikely as this might be, it's not
totally out of line with the legend.
What conies next, however, is. From
a flatfooted start, Tarzan leaps two sto
ries through observation-studio glass in
a hid to escape. He's bare-chested and
bare-footed but he suffers not so much
as a scratch while shattering this win
dow, then another during his getaway.
Tarzan is being held against his will
by his father's brother, Richard Clayton,
played by former "X
-Filer" Mitch
Pileggi. Clayton's nephew was just a
child when a plane carrying his family
across Africa crashed. Only little John
Clayton survived, to grow up as Tarzan
amidst the natives and animals, until a
search party led by his uncle captured
him and brought him back to the United
States.
***la
out of
4 stars
New 'Tartan' swings
Sunday
onto The WB
by Tom Jicha
South Florida Sun-Sentinel
"Tarzan" is supposed to be fun.
"Tarzan" in New York should be more
fun than a day at the circus, and when
"Tartan" hit the Big Apple in 1942, it
Richard justifies the bondage as pro
tecting his nephew from the dangers of
his new environment. In fact, it's a
power grab. Whoever controls Tarzan
controls the family business empire,
Greystoke.
Daniel J. Stasiewski, A&E Editor
Travis Fimmel's wild side is un
leashed in The WB's `Tarzan."
Apparently cognizant of the
premiere's problems, the WB will in
troduce a new character in the second
episode, Richard's sister, played by
Lucy Lawless of "Xena: Warrior Prin
cess" fame. "She and Richard sort of
battle over Tarzan's soul and, with it,
control of Greystoke. So it's this mas
sive power struggle between two very
powerful titans of New York City,"
Kripke said.
The battle for Tarzan's heart. if nor
the rest of him, will be brief. "The aunt
lives in the Clayton ancestral home, orie
of those old mansions on Fifth Av
enue," Kripke said. "Within it is an
overgrown greenhouse, a solarium. It's
really the only place in the city where
Tarzan feels comfortable, so he stays
there."
This Tarzan might not swing on vines
but he must have taken martial arts
classes back in the jungle. Trapped on
the roof of the Greystoke building, he
kicks the stuffing out of a battalion of
his uncle's commandos. (Why a busi
nessman needs his own army goes un
explained.)
The pilot is just a medley of Tarzan
escaping, being recaptured, then escap
ing again, in circumstances that are
ever more farfetched.
Each time Tarzan gets loose, he
crosses paths with a policewoman
named Jane, played by Sarah Wayne
Callies. Initially, Jane sees Tarzan only
as a man on the lam she has been corn
manded to bring in. She's deeply in love
with a fellow detective and is exhila
rated that he has just asked her to share
a place. By the end of the hour, she's
swooning into Tarzan's arms.
Kripke, who clearly doesn't have the
respect for the franchise that his posi
tion should entail, unwittingly con
demned his own vision in describing
why Richard doesn't consider himself
a bad guy.
"Any real villain is the hero of his
own story. From his point of view, it's
crazy to let Tarzan run around and risk
his neck. If he's wild, you have to con
trol him. You've got to rehabilitate him.
You've got to teach him to read. You
have to introduce him into society.
What Richard doesn't realize is that
would be killing everything that is
unique and special about Tarzan."
Exactly.
behrcolls@aol.com