The bass backbone (and backing vocalist) for AC/DC for almost their entire run at the top of the hard rock game, there is no doubt that Cliff Williams is an icon of the rock world. Joining the band in 1977 (just a few short years after their founding in 1973/74), taking over for original bassist Mark Evans, Cliff, along with drummer Phil Rudd (and Chris Slade – their drummer from 1989-1994 and presently – who has also been interviewed here at Filmizon.com), and Malcolm Young (nephew Stevie Young took over after Malcolm’s death), have been the ever solid rhythmic spine for Angus’ soaring guitar solos and Brian Johnson’s unique vocals (the man took over for Bon Scott after he died in 1980). . . or, as Cliff puts it, “I try to create a bottom layer that drives what our guys are doing on top”.
Touring since their 1977 “Let There Be Rock” album, and the bass player on their albums starting with 1978’s “Powerage”, there are not many musicians who have been seen or heard around the world more than Cliff. An inductee to both the Australian Recording Industry Association’s Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (as of 2003), he has done it all, and really, there is not much more needed to be said than that.
I was fortunate enough to interview the man a few years ago about his favourite film. Immediately citing the 1999 Woody Allen film Sweet and Lowdown, he was fascinated by the story it told – looking at the life of little known depression era jazz musician Emmet Ray. Loving the entire package, this music driven story appealed to him for many reasons, for not only is he a fan of the music, but he also truly appreciates the way it is told, the excellent performance from Sean Penn in the leading role, and the essence of the 1930s captured so beautifully by Allen.
Done in a docu-flashback method, Allen (who writes and directs) transitions back and forth between interviews with experts (and himself – making it sound like this is a bit of a passion project for the filmmaker) and the narrative telling the life of Emmet Ray (Penn – in an Academy Award nominated performance) – a man who is as much myth as he is an historical figure (little is known of the man, and many of the stories that do exist are gossipy rumours told in wholly different ways). Arguably the second best guitarist of his era – behind French gypsy Django Reinhart (a man that haunts his every breathing moment), he is a walking mess. Part time pimp, full time alcoholic and sex addict. . . throw in a kleptomaniac to boot, he is more vain than all of the veins within his own body, more egotistical than Narcissus himself, more crude than the least refined oil. . . or, as one of the taglines for the film puts it, “one man’s love affair with himself”.
Bottling up every emotion and not getting close to anyone (meaning that each and every woman who slowly becomes attached to him finds him gone in the middle of the night), he tours the country with his band, performing from time to time. . . I say this, for if he isn’t showing up late, he often doesn’t show up at all. Rubbing many the wrong way with his unprofessional antics, there is still an undeniable charm within him. Despite shooting from the hip (he does carry a gun as well), his fancy and eclectic wardrobe. . . along with the way his fingers move over the guitar, mesmerizes his audiences (a unique stage presence), leading to many admirers – often fellow musicians and an early form of groupies who appreciate his talent.
You may be wondering what his pastimes are. . . shooting rats at dumps and watching trains – a mystery many try to decipher (thinking that there must be a deeper psychological meaning), though there does not seem to be any rhyme or reason to it (other than he simply gets a kick from it).
Narrated by the specialists, they tell us of his eccentricities – hoping to show his genius, he plans to descend to the stage, playing his guitar while straddling a giant moon and wearing a jacket that would make Elton John blush. . . as you might imagine, problems arise; of his love affairs – falling for the most sweet Hattie (Samantha Morton – playing the role like Harpo Marx, she was also nominated for an Oscar), a caring mute who truly has his best interest at heart, to his wife Blanche (Uma Thurman), a writer more interested in the idea of him than the actual man, or a night with Ellie (Gretchen Mol), a ‘good’ girl who sees his darker side; of his acquaintances – a smalltime club owner named Mr. Haynes (John Waters), a nightclub owner with shady dealings, Joe Bedloe (Brad Garrett), Joe’s mobster bodyguard Al Torrio (Anthony LaPaglia), who has a thing for Blanche; and of his short stint in Hollywood (where Hattie gets discovered rather than him, much to the chagrin of his super-sized ego).
Shot in a most entertaining way, Sweet and Lowdown is a bio-style pic that supposedly captures the drama and comedy in the life of one of the most elusive musical figures in the annals of history. Capturing both the sweet and the low of his story, Allen tinkers with the medium, sometimes rewinding to revisit a scene to tell it the way another person heard it, finding the emotion in a character that attempted to hide such things. Inspired by Federico Fellini’s La Strada, Allen finds clever ways to pay homage to the tale of a harsh, almost beastly man who takes a simple-minded young woman on the road with him.
Following a flawed character along a most engaging journey through 1930s America, Sweet and Lowdown is a little seen motion picture that any music, history or film fan should appreciate. A juxtaposition of the highs and lows, the sweet and the lowdowns. . . a genius with all of his flaws, expect an entertaining story, stellar acting, and a nice mix of multiple genres. Funnily enough, you get to the end and you really aren’t sure if the man ever really did exist (except for in Allen’s mind – this has been a passion project for him since the late 1960s), but I’ll leave it up to you to discover whether this is pure myth or hard to find history. So, strum up this musical movie, this one is bound to shoot to thrill.