Embarassing Admissions #1
So, the other day I was perusing the channels on the TV and saw “Neil Diamond’s The Jazz Singer” was coming up while I was going to be out. I had fond memories of this movie as a kid and thought, what the fuck, let’s have TiVo record the bitch. I’m glad I did because when I wathced the movie again it reminded me of something very, very important: “Neil Diamond’s The Jazz Singer” kicks some sweet ass.
Look, the movie may be shit on most levels, but it proves one thing without question - the Neil Diamond can rock the mother fucking house and your next door neighbor’s, too, if they don’t have the sliding glass window closed. The man puts on a pair of tight ass pants, winds that hair up and around an extra three times for added bounce and bald spot coverage, takes the stage, rocks out his acoustic and plays like the bad mamma jamma he truly can be.
The story is clichéd and ridiculous, and Diamond is about 10 years too old for the part, but damn is it funny to watch, in a good way. It’s like you’re laughing along, not at it, which would be disrespectful. And the melodrama is so bad at times that it’s worse than the shit what made ya bleed, but you know that relief once the pain’s over? Yeah, same thing.
Diamond can’t act for shit and he never looks anyone in the eye — which makes him look stoned or as though he’s pissing through a bladder infection — but you just can’t not enjoy his performance on some level. Then there’s Laurence Olivier. He’s unrecognizable in this role, which is probably by design, but he delivers a couple of moments of movie history, especially the “You’re dead to me” scene when he leaves his son in Los Angeles after learning he’s been fucking a shiksa. Great stuff.
One odd bit of trivia. The movie is directed by Richard Fleischer, the son of pioneering Animator Max Fleischer, famous for having a part in the creation of the famous Fleischer studios Superman cartoons (1941), some of the most influential animation of all time.
Back to the movie, let’s not forget when Neil belt’s out the lyrics to “America.” Shit, you could be German or Polish or Hungarian and end up changing citizenship once you’re done listening to that assmeblage of notes. For me, when I hear the song I feel empowered with thoughts of enlisting in the armed services. “I’m gonna kill me some terrorist scum” I believe I mused to myself upon the completion of that number.
Getting serious, the movie is one of those bad movies you just end up loving, while hating yourself for the pleasure you derive. It’s not a guilty pleasure, it’s a dirty one. There’s no helping yourself, it just happens. You’re blameless. Just give in. We’re all pretty sure Neil’s made of visual ecstacy.
