TO BROWSE

MyDannyKaye.com: A treasure-trove of Kaye minutae. Everything from the original Thurber Mitty story to biographies of his leading ladies. Fun stuff.

TO WATCH

Sadly, most of Mr. Kaye’s films are out of print, so you can’t just jaunt down to the local Blockbuster and pick up Wonder Man. Fortunately, this high-tech computer age means several lovely people have uploaded many of the Kaye classics to YouTube. Viva technology!

(These are all in multiple parts, but you should be able to click through to subsequent chapters at the end of the clip.)

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty: Danny Kaye’s most beloved role. He is superb as the neurotic milquetoast mama’s-boy who dreams of—and stumbles upon—lurid adventures. Based on a James Thurber short story.

The Court Jester: A close second in terms of popularity, this medieval Robin-Hood-esque farce is marvelous. Mr. Kaye’s turn as a carnival entertainer-turned freedom fighter-turned undercover agent/court jester is hilarious. Not to mention it features Angela Lansbury when she was a young, delectable honey. The film in its entirety has been removed from YouTube, but is also one of the few widely available on DVD. Here’s a clip:

Knock on Wood: Danny Kaye’s favorite from amongst his films. A wacky espionage comedy that features Mr. Kaye as a ventriloquist, of all things. Excellent.

Wonder Man: Danny Kaye’s second film, and his first split-screen role as both brash nightclub entertainer Buzzy Ballew and his bookish twin. The opera scene at the end is one of the funniest scenes ever captured on film.

A Song is Born: Critics and Kaye fans alike are dismissive of this film, but as a lover of Big Band, I will always enjoy it. Kaye is lovable as a sheltered music professor exposed to the thrilling world of modern music by a gangster’s moll. Features performances by Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, and Louis Armstrong, among others.

And check out Huilifoj’s YouTube channel for a plethora of Kaye footage, including the films On the Double, Up in Arms, The Kid from Brooklyn, various television appearances, and the PBS American Masters program on Mr. Kaye.

Many Happy Returns.

January 18, 1913

Thank you AMC.

Or, rather, the AMC that once was. Don’t get me wrong, I am an admirer of the excellent original programming it produces these days but I will always fondly cherish the earlier years—when “American Movie Classics” did not, for example, include any films by Keanu Reeves (Speed? Really?). During a rather prolonged illness in my adolescent years, I’d recline on the couch and flip the television to AMC without even consulting a schedule. Part of its charm was the diversity of escapist fare it offered. A typical day’s lineup could include a glorious Busby Berkeley musical, a cast-of-thousands historical epic, Citizen Kane, a precocious Audrey Hepburn flick, any number of antiquated music videos from the Big Band era, a polite romantic comedy featuring Claudette Colbert, and some meaningless yet amusing piece of cinematic fluff from Betty Grable.

And, on a particularly good day, a Danny Kaye film.

There are those comedians of days gone by who have been so effectively lionized since their glory days that they remain on the contemporary cultural radar: even if you’ve never sat through a Chaplin film or watched the Marx brothers in motion, their names and faces are familiar, their genius assured. Mr. Kaye, sadly, has not been so fortunate in his legacy.

The relative obscurity of a man who was once at the very top of his game and extravagantly praised is a damn shame. But what makes the performer born as David Daniel Kaminsky so fascinating—and his work so enduring—is the unique blend of talents he possessed. This was a man of precise and powerful skills, and watching them in action is a felicitous occasion.

He could present a tongue-twister like no other.

He could make like Fred Astaire…

…and turn ballet into delicious buffoonery.

(the ballet begins at 2:51)

He could wail with Louie…

… sing opera with amazing comic timing…

…and croon children’s tunes.

He could make fencing funny.

(click through to 2:30 for a real display of virtuosity)

He could conduct an orchestra a la Bugs Bunny…

…and also impersonate one pretty damn accurately.

Rubber-faced, rapid-tongued, graceful of movement yet able to ape supreme clumsiness; Mr. Kaye invested his slapstick with an innate elegance and performed feats of verbal flexibility that have yet to be matched.  His complex, comic songs (written by his wife and lifelong collaborator Sylvia Fine) were legendary and brought him acclaim, but he considered himself a thwarted doctor at heart. He was convincing as both the idiot and the sophisticate, the brassy lunatic as well as the shy introvert (a duality that would come in handy for several of his split-screen film adventures). He created pandemonium during his live shows in London, and hostility in those of his coworkers who did not always appreciate the perfectionism and artistic moodiness of their star.

Over the course of his life, his career took him from his humble beginnings as a tummler on the Borscht Belt circuit to acting as a guest conductor for the greatest symphonies in the world and a beloved spokesman for UNICEF. His many non-performing hobbies included baseball (he was a part owner of the Seattle Mariners), Chinese cookery (he would spend days preparing elaborate meals for his friends), and flying (he had a commercial pilot’s license). He was a devoted father, though his reputation as a husband has always been a matter of great debate (he has been rumored a womanizer and Sir Laurence Olivier’s gay lover, so take your pick).

In short, he was a complex and very talented man, and his death in 1987 left a void in the world of comedy that nobody can fill, no matter how many imitators have tried to lay claim to his unique legacy of laughter. You can spot bits of Danny in everything from Steve Martin circa The Jerk to Jim Carrey’s far inferior attempts at facial contortions and silly voices in the 1990s. But Mr. Kaye was the whole package, and a true original.

Its too bad AMC isn’t still around in its previous incarnation so we could be treated to an all-day marathon of Kaye classics. But thanks to the miracles of the modern internet age, you can find a goodly sample of Danny Kaye’s work online (here are my recommendations); so take a little time out today to have a good, therapeutic laugh and pay homage to a man unparalleled in his talents.

Don’t let Mr. Kaye go unappreciated on this, his birthday. For, as he sings in one of his most enduring songs,

“a jester’s chief employment, is to kill himself for your enjoyment; and a jester unemployed is nobody’s fool.”

I know I am not alone in telling dear Danny that he will always be my favorite fool.

David Robert Jones

January 8, 1947

I can still remember the very first David Bowie song I ever heard.*

It was August in the optimistic year of our Lord 2000. I was twenty and only mildly insane, and my friend Derek and I were powering through the dull wasteland of late-summer stickiness and boredom that lay between Nashville and Memphis in a rather old Volvo.

It had been a sudden impulse, that trip to Graceland… We had been casually sweating on my apartment balcony with no particular plans in mind when it had dawned upon us that it was Elvis week and the enchanting rhinestone-heartland tackiness of it all was a mere four and a half hours away. We threw together a few necessities for the trip—mine included caffeine, snackage, and a pair of fuzzy leopard-print platform pumps. Derek’s included a vintage camera with which to take excellent pictures amongst the shag glories of the jungle room and a stash of cassettes for the rather old Volvo’s obsolete tape deck.

We had just gotten back on the road after stuffing our faces with good ole’ country buffet fare at Loretta Lynn’s Kitchen, when Derek put in THE TAPE.

“Five Years” began to play. And thus began my decade-long obsession with the works of Mr. David Robert Jones.

There are so many Bowies and I love them all—I love the curly-haired sweater-wearing young Bowie who waxes surpassingly lyrical as well as the cool, sadistic detachment and immaculate wardrobe of the Thin White Duke; I love the sleek-haired, spacey Katherine Hepburn wannabe and also the spiky, snarling intensity of Nathan Adler; I love the blank-eyed, blank-souled thoughtfulness of Bowie the Heathen and the deconstructed, dancey coolness of  Bowie the Earthling; I love the exuberant jumpsuit and jackboot-wearing glitter Ziggy who thanks his wham-bam ma’am so nicely and I love the somber, otherwordly Kabuki messiah who foretold his downfall.

This versatility is Bowie’s greatest gift, you see, and what has always set him far above other “chameleons” of the music world. He creates characters and moods even on his least theatrical albums; the dazzling wardrobe shifts that most people regard as his trademark are really only the outer manifestation of much more profound transformations.

It’s why there’s a Bowie song for every mood.

It’s what makes him so infinitely obsessable.

David Bowie turns 63 years old today. He’s been making music for 48 of those years and I, for one, would like to say THANK YOU, you freaky old bastard you. Many happy returns.

P.S. Clicky here for Hux’s favorite Bowie resources.

*I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to make it to the ripe old age of twenty without hearing “China Girl” or little-girl mooning over the Goblin King; I can only attribute it to the fact that I might as well have grown up under a rock. The zealous censorship practices of my Southern Baptist missionary parents and the island off the south coast of Brazil we lived on in the days before the internets combined to leave me so entirely innocent of 80s pop culture that I have VH1 to thank for my current knowledge of that decade’s high points. As is it, I’m glad. “Let’s Dance” is kicky, and Labyrinth is fun to watch (if not to listen to)…. But, really, there’s a lot to be said for having The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars pop your Bowie cherry.

TO READ

BowieStyle (Steve Pafford): The ultimate accessory for the true Bowie connoisseur. The pretty pictures are reason enough to posses it, but this tome is unique because it delves into the whys and wherefores of each distinct Bowie phase. Pafford examines the influences behind the transformation—what complex blend of literature, film, music, and personal influences led to each instantly identifiable Bowie persona. Profoundly interesting insight into the processes of a great creative mind and tons of eye-candy to boot.

Backstage Passes: Life on the Wild Side with David Bowie (Angela Bowie): Mr. Bowie himself would probably not be too happy with this recommendation, but it is a must read for the glam enthusiast. Angie the-ex-wife may or may not have an axe to grind, but it is delightful to read about the unbridled enthusiasm and glamour that the glitter boys and girls brought to the drug, sex, and rock and roll lifestyle. Salacious, libelous, and utterly charming in its depiction of the charismatic and volatile young man morphing into a rock god.

TO WATCH

Cracked Actor (1974): A BBC documentary filmed at the height of his 70s fame. Seriously. Look at this. Its on YouTube in several parts.

Bowie, Flight of the Conchords (2007): One of the most loving tributes to any artist I’ve ever seen that also has the benefit of being fucking hilarious.

TO BROWSE

The Ziggy Stardust Companion : The ultimate online resource for everything Ziggy. Timelines, interviews, and galleries to die for.

Bowie Wonderworld: Excellent assortment of Bowie information, from current eBay auctions to chord charts for “Ashes to Ashes.”

Many Happy Returns.

Rev. King, Kevin, and Amazon Maxx about to hit the Shakedown.

Oh, I had a grand old damn time, my darlings!

Now that I’m properly bathed, rested up, and supplied with photographs of my exploits, I’ll be posting the highlights of Roo 2009. Stay tuned this week for pics and write-ups of a Bonnaroo wedding (congrats to Cat and David), candy distribution along the shakedown, delightful run-ins with old friends, lovely introductions to new ones, and even a possible UFO sighting (for serious).

If you’re one of the many charming people I met at Bonnaroo, thank you for being awesome. We are kindred souls, and I thank you for coming to visit my humble internet home.

Keep checking back, deareys: there’s a whole lot on the way!

Love from hux

Hux and Cuppy

We managed to find an ideal spot for our tent this year—by dint of lugging our inconvenient luggage from the campsite in Egypt where we had been parked and pitching our tent elsewhere, we ended up with the most convenient location you can imagine. Seconds from the shakedown, the facilities, the showers; its most appealing feature was the fact that we were on the corner of two major roads and could people-watch to our heart’s content.
After the exertion of moving our shit we were worn out, and settled in for an afternoon of observation. Horse-mounted cops trotted by with the clanging sound of hooves, brightly-decorated taxis zoomed by carrying loads of happy Rooers who shouted out greetings. But the highlight of the afternoon was a broadly-smiling, heavily tanned fellow who was strolling casually down the road carrying a bubble-machine in full blast.
We shrieked our approval, and he reciprocated by bringing the bubble-machine into our tent. Within seconds, our humble abode was transformed into something magical—bubbles gushed from the machine, flew up to the ceiling, and bounced off again in the most enchanting way. We were transported.
The same kind gentleman looked in on us often over the course of the next few days. And when we ran into him on Sunday, we bought us corn dogs. You’re good people Cuppy, and I look forward to seeing you soon!!

Maxx

It was my first Bonnaroo, and I was looking forward to it with a peculiar blend of anxiousness and anticipation. I’m not a crowd-girl, generally speaking, and the thought of tens of thousands of people rather terrified me. But Maxx had been the year before and, due to her magnanimous nature, had made me the gift of a ticket that I might experience the delights of Roo for myself.
Excitement began to replace any social terrors as our car made its way through the campground. Laughing people were hanging out of their car windows; the workers who directed the way were brim-full of joie de vivre; and the cry of “Bonnarooooooooooooo!!!!” was on everyone’s lips. As soon as we were parked, we began the usually tedious process of setting up the tent—but even this chore was made exquisitely joyful by the atmosphere around us. Maxx, unable to contain herself, began to dance a jig—hammer in hand—and I knew then that I would have a spectacular time.

Bonnaroo Jesus, 2007

It was a drought year—fiendishly hot and dusty as all get out. The heat index was in the low 100s; whenever great masses of people would move towards the stages the scene resembled nothing so much as the setting of a Mad Max film, Rooers with bandanas tied across their faces like sweaty bank robbers, grasping their friends’ hands and blindly staggering along through dust clouds of apocalyptic proportions. As Kitty and I were making our slow and filthy way towards the What Stage, an interesting spectacle presented itself…

Right in the middle of the pathway, tall and serene and utterly lost in space (due, no doubt, to some mind-altering substance) stood a long-haired man. His shirt bore the image of Jesus, to whom he bore a remarkable resemblance, and with hands outstretched he seemed to be blessing the throngs. People touched him reverently as they passed him by, but he noticed nothing—he had Heaven on his mind.

Touch the image and keep your finger pressed against the screen until the Save Image menu appears. Press “Save Image”. The image is saved to Photos.

Now exit Safari, and start Photos. Find the image you saved, and open it until it fills the screen. Press your finger on the image and hold until the navigation menu appears. In the lower left, there is an icon of an arrow jumping out of a frame. Press that button.

A menu comes up allowing you to Use As Wallpaper. Select “Use As Wallpaper”. You can then move and scale the image, if you wish. When happy with the way it looks, select “Set Wallpaper.” You’re done!