December 5: Documentaries: TOOTS, YOU MUST BE THIS TALL, and CHRIS & DON

I like to mix up my viewing between various types of films. Sometimes I get on a kick and check out a few documentaries at a time, as I did recently.

When I covered most film festivals, there were times I'd get frustrated because several films would be playing at the same time that I wanted to check out -- while other times I was scrambling to find something -- anything -- to see. Such was the case when I covered Tribeca a couple of years ago and the documentary Toots was playing. I had an interest in this film for a couple of reasons. I'm fascinated by the nightlife of the 1940s and 50s and had enjoyed reading books about that period (including James Gavin's INTIMATE NIGHTS) and I recall stories of Shor and his legendary nightspot from my youth. His was a "saloon" that attracted celebrities ranging from comedian Jackie Gleason to actor John Wayne to newsman Mike Wallace. This film, a portrait crafted from interviews with the man (conducted a couple of years before his death in 1977) intercut with stock footage and fresh reminiscences by Wallace, author Pete Hamill, baseball player turned sportscaster Joe Garagiola, and others, was directed by Shor's granddaughter Kristi Jacobson.

Unlike some family projects, Jacobson takes a warts-and-all approach to the man. With the benefit of those tapes, we hear Shor tell parts of his life story in his own voice. The interviewees provide additional color and Jacobson doesn't whitewash her grandfather's faults and failings. What emerges is a wonderful portrait of a lost era, when the common man could mingle with the celebrity. Although it took me a couple of years to finally see the movie, I was very glad I had and would highly recommend it.

Rating: A -


Having grown up in Rhode Island, I spent some of my time at the amusement parks in the state. When I was a kid, there were two main ones: Crescent Park and Rocky Point. Unfortunately, both have gone the way of the dinosaur. As far as I know, no one has made a film about Crescent Park, but David Bettencourt, in his feature directorial debut, has documented the story of its rival in You Must Be This Tall: The Story of Rocky Point. Now, honestly, I'm not sure just how widespread an interest there might be for this film, beyond Rhode Islanders (or former Rhode Islanders) and aficianados of theme parks, but I can say that I was immediately transported back to my childhood. Watching this well-made film awakened long dormant memories. The movie also taught me about the history of the place. And I actually knew one of the interviewees, a former employee of Rocky Point, who had been a couple of years ahead of me in high school. This is a specialized movie but one that was close to my heart. If you enjoy amusement parks or New England history, it's worth a look.

Rating: B


The last of the documentaries I recently watched was Chris & Don. A Love Story. A couple of years ago, I was working with a regarded writer who had some correspondence from Don Bachardy. The name sounded vaguely familiar but I could not place it. I was told he was Christopher Isherwood's lover and that he was also an artist of some repute. So when I learned that someone had documented the couple's relationship, I figured I might check it out and hopefully learn something. Of course, I knew of Isherwood; he was the author of the THE BERLIN STORIES which were the basis for the play I Am a Camera and later the musical Cabaret (both of which were filmed). Watching this documentary, directed by Tina Mascara and Guido Santi, I had some mixed feelings.

Isherwood was an established writer who had settled in the United States in 1939 (becoming a citizen in 1946). In the early 1950s, while living in Southern California, he made the acquaintance of young Don Bachardy. With almost a 30-year gap between them, the pair embarked on a love affair that lasted -- not without its bumps -- until Isherwood's death in January 1986. A cynic might claim that Bachardy has wrapped himself in the mantle of the "Widow Isherwood". While he is a portaitist of some regard, he main claim to fame is that he was Isherwood's lover. It's clear that the writer wielded a lot of influence over the painter -- as some have pointed out, Bachardy adopted the clipped intonations of Isherwood and despite being raised in Southern California, he sounds like he hails from Great Britain. But there are some red flags about this relationship.

First of all, there's the age gap. Yes, from photographs and home movies of the period, Bachardy was clearly a handsome youth. But the fact that Isherwood enjoyed a liaison with Bachardy's older brother Ted, who later suffered a breakdown, underwent shock therapy and has battled mental illness is presented in an offhand manner. It raises some questions that are not answered or addressed: Did Isherwood romance the older boy to get to the youth? Or did he transfer his regard for the older boy to the younger after the older became ill? Or was it just happenstance?
Due to Ted Bachardy's illness, we may never know.

In the 1950s, the relationship raised eyebrows, as much for the age difference as for the transparency of it. Neither man felt the need to "pass" as heterosexual and they went everywhere together as a couple. It was Isherwood who encouraged the youth to pursue art, resulting in Bachardy's career as a portrait painter.

We hear snippets of Isherwood's thoughts read from his diaries by actor Michael York (who played the Isherwood character in the film Cabaret) and Bachardy speaks of the times when the couple pursued other lovers -- including a time when it appeared they might leave one another. Clearly, this is an unconventional love story, but one that I felt wasn't completely explored. We get a mostly one-sided view and I was left wanting something more.

Rating: B-