You may have heard the international dance hit “We No Speak Americano,” which was recorded in 2010 by Australian duo Yolanda Be Cool and producer DCUP. But did you know that the Italian song it’s based on, “Tu Vuò Fà l’Americano” (“You Want to Be American”), goes back to the 1950s? Variations on the song in Italian and English have been performed by scores of stars as diverse as Sophia Loren, the Brian Setzer Orchestra, Pitbull, Matt Damon and Jude Law, and even Alvin and the Chipmunks since then.
Yolanda Be Cool’s song is based on (and features samples from) the 1956 Italian pop hit “Tu Vuò Fà l’Americano,” which was written in the Neapolitan dialect by Italian singer Renato Carosone in collaboration with Nicola “Nisa” Salerno. It was commissioned for a radio contest, and the song, which combines swing and jazz elements, became a huge hit almost immediately. It was featured in several Italian films by 1960s, including a sexy dance number performance by Sophia Loren in In Started in Naples. It also features in the 1999 filmThe Talented Mr. Ripley. The song satirizes the Americanization that swept Southern Italy after World War II and tells a story of an Italian man who pretends to live like an American, enjoying whisky and soda, rock ‘n roll, baseball and Camel cigarettes, but who is still dependent on his parents for money. The Puppini Sisters sing a spunky, sprightly version of the song in three-part harmony on their album Betcha Bottom Dollar; Pit Bull sings a version, “Bon Bon,” primarily in Spanish; Trio Manouche does a Gypsy Jazz-inspired version; and French group The Gypsy Queens does a fun version with American jazz chanteuse Madeleine Peyroux in bouncy Neapolitan style. Every version of the song has its own very danceable quirks and charms.
French chanteuse Edith Piaf singing the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, which is a call to arms against oppression
Let us honor those who fight and sometimes die for the causes of free speech and a free press.
Much of what French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo publishes has been offensive to nearly everyone at one time or another; the quality or appeal or substance of their satire is not the point. The point is that an open marketplace of ideas is necessary for a free society. That includes the right of individuals to share ugly or objectionable ideas, the responsibility of governments to safeguard that right, and the responsibility of citizens to stand up for it.
In an open society, bad ideas get countered, challenged and, over time, often discarded, not despite but because of their publication. It is only when they are shared that enough people can speak for or against them and the general public can make informed decisions. When this right to free speech is attacked anywhere in the world, we are all diminished.
I do not seek to smear or harm those who happen to share the same faith as the terrorists who engaged in the brutal slaughter at Charlie Hebdo—that would be as nonsensical as the evil acts of the assassins. Remember that one of the two policemen killed by the assassins when they rushed to the site of the attack was Muslim police officer Ahmed Merabet, who was murdered while protecting the right of Charlie Hebdo to caricature and mock his own religion. No, this was a brutal act committed by a small group of sick-minded individuals, not by a religion.
The rallying cry around the world and among popular commentators like The Daily Show‘s Jon Stewart in the immediate aftermath of the attack has been Je suis Charlie: I am Charlie. In his essay in The New Yorker, Philip Gourevitch responds to this by writing, “But the truth is—for better and for worse—that, no, most of us, even in the most free of Western societies, are not Charlie. For better, because so many of us have the luxury of often feeling secure enough in our freedom to take it for granted. For worse, because in taking our freedom for granted, we are too often ready to trade it for a greater sense of security. We are not Charlie, in other words, because we risk so little for what we claim to value so much. We are not Charlie, too, because most of us are relatively inoffensive, whereas Charlie, like so many liberating pioneers of free expression—think not only of Lenny Bruce and Mad magazine but also of Gandhi and Martin Luther King—were always glad to give offense to what offended them. And we are not Charlie, today, because we are alive.”
It is true that we in the United States have many luxuries of expression that others around the world are denied, and that we regularly take them for granted. We forget that what we consider to be inherent and inalienable rights are seen as privileges at best in many places around the world. So it is incumbent upon us to show gratitude and recognition for our freedom, and to stand up for the right of others around the world to be offensive, outspoken, embarrassing or upsetting in what they say or publish, as long as they do not present a clear and present immediate physical danger to others while they do so (as would be the case if a speaker instigated a riot, or example). I do not seek to upset others and generally do my best to avoid offending with my writing, but I stand behind those who exercise their right to upset, disgust or enrage others (myself included) when they speak their minds, even in cases when I detest what they have to say. Let us remember those who face danger in their fight for the right to a free press. Let us prove with nonviolent but outspoken solidarity that, truly, nous sommes tous Charlie: we are all Charlie.
Above: London-based graphic designer Lucille Clerc’s response to the Charlie Hebdo murders, widely misattributed to Banksy
While going through my old CDs this week I came across a fun album from 1998 by New York-based jazz group Dave’s True Story called Sex Without Bodies. The group, which described itself as a “lounge-noir band,” morphed a bit over time but was always anchored by writer/composer/guitarist David Cantor and singer Kelly Flint. They played jazz with a cool Greenwich Village underground jazz-club vibe: spare, dry and witty. Flint’s jaded vocals and Cantor’s sardonic lyrics bring a smoky edge to their songs.
Sex Without Bodies starts with the cynical anti-love song “Spasm,” which was featured in an episode of Breaking Bad:
Look at my lips They’re just dying to taste you Look at my teeth They’re just aching to bite But as for my heart It’s a big empty chasm ‘Cause this ain’t the real thing It’s just a spasm
The characters Kelly Flint inhabits are droll and blasé, but they’re relaxed enough that the group’s music isn’t so much dark as overcast. An hour spent with Dave’s True Story is like an hour in an underground bar quaffing excellent cocktails with a good-smelling man who sports precise facial hair and offers to show you his etchings.
Four songs into the album is my favorite of their tunes, “I’ll Never Read Trollope Again,” the story of an avid reader of fiction whose favorite author is Victorian writer Anthony Trollope:
I was sitting in a quaint cafe With a favorite tome and some cafe au lait But my luck ran out when you came my way Now I’ll never read Trollope again
You spied the cover as you slithered near And said “The 1800s—that’s my favorite year.” And then you sat right down and now I fear That I’ll never read Trollope again
Near the end of their album is a cover version of Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wild Side,” a song which perfectly matches their louche, ironic yet somehow upbeat manner. Despite its cynical heart, the album is not a downer. Turn down the lights, pour yourself an artisanal something-or-other and see what you think of it.
Here’s another recent pen-and-ink drawing which was inspired by my visit to Malahide Castle just outside of Dublin, Ireland, a few years ago. Malahide has a room filled with marvelous Victorian silhouettes of all sorts: individuals, families, animals, you name it. The castle was a highlight of my family’s short visit to the Dublin area, and its silhouette room always stands out in my mind when I think of our adventure.
Though this little goat is quoting Ebenezer Scrooge, he actually wishes you a very happy holiday season. I’ve added this pen-and-ink friend to my gallery of drawings—click on the image to zoom in on the details. I love working with Micron pens; I drew this fellow with a size 005 Pigma Micron with a .2 mm line width. What animal should I draw next?
If you’re looking for a heartwarming, fresh and funny little film to give you a boost over the holidays, I highly recommend actor and director Jon Favreau’s delicious comedy Chef, which is now on DVD. This charming road picture features talented chef Carl Casper (Favreau), a man who has given up expressing his creativity in the kitchen in order to cook for an unimaginative restaurant owner (Dustin Hoffman) with diligence but without inspiration. After receiving a bad restaurant review, Carl vows to show what culinary magic he can work in order to salvage his reputation, but things don’t work out as planned. The fiasco forces Carl to start his life over, returning to his roots and focusing on creating simple but perfect food for the masses. This leads him to a closer, more reciprocal relationship with the young son he drifted away from when he let go of his passions and his greatest gifts.
The film has a leisurely pace and many thoroughly enjoyable scenes of preparing and devouring great meals. We go for a long, funny, often moving ride in an old food truck along with Carl, his son (played with great skill and warmth by young actor Emjay Anthony), and his loyal sous chef (played with gusto by John Leguizamo). Along the way we see the U.S. with new eyes and recognize that meals, like relationships, don’t have to be expensive and fancy to be exceptional and memorable.
The movie is essentially a love letter to food, family and friends, and Favreau, who is himself a skilled chef and gourmand, takes the time to show delicious-looking food prepared lovingly and authentically as part of the film’s exploration of preparing and sharing meals as a metaphor for sharing art, love and meaning. It’s well crafted, beautifully paced and so authentic in tone that each time I’ve seen it I’ve come away feeling like I just hung out with generous old friends who invited me to share something rare and meaningful with them.
Jon Favreau directed such crowd-pleasers as Elf and the first two Iron Man pictures, but he’s also a talented actor who got his first big break in Doug Liman’s very funny 1996 indie comedy Swingers. Favreau wrote the script for Chef in just two weeks and called in a few superstars (Robert Downey Jr. and Scarlett Johansson) to fill small roles, but the three key actors (Favreau, Anthony and Leguizamo) have such chemistry and take such genuine delight in each other that you hardly know or care about the big-ticket actors.
Often feel-good comedies have a manufactured, by-the-numbers feel to them. I don’t like being manipulated by a director who wants to spoon-feed me my emotions; I want a film to earn my respect and authentic responses. Chef made me feel as if I’d been drawn into something special and intimate. I hope you’ll find it as sweet and satisfying as I did.
“No little children love me. I’m told they play at Peter Pan, and the strongest always chooses to be Peter. They force the baby to be Hook. The baby—that’s where the canker gnaws.”
Last night’s U.S. television broadcast of “Peter Pan Live!” underscored what I have always believed—no other actor, not even one as entertaining as Christopher Walken, can compete with Australian actor Cyril Ritchard‘s memorable and marvelous turn as Captain Hook. That voice! That face! That prancing, preening charismatic villainy! Ritchard WAS Hook for me, and always will be. His was the voice on the 1954 original Broadway cast recording, and Ritchard’s roguish delivery and outrageous campiness earned him a Tony Award for this performance. Ritchard was also the star of another favorite Broadway musical, “The Roar of the Greasepaint, the Smell of the Crowd.”
Nearly thirty years ago Tim Burton directed his first full-length film and began his long association with composer Danny Elfman, who up till that point was best known as the frontman for the fabulous New Wave band Oingo Boingo. The 1985 film was the cult favorite Pee-wee’s Big Adventure, which was based on the character Pee-wee Herman created and portrayed by Paul Reubens. Reubens had been doing live stage shows based around the character since 1980. The film is a visual and auditory delight, full of supersaturated color, whimsy and wonder and set to Elfman’s terrific score. This Rube Goldberg-machine-like sequence featuring a rousing tune by Elfman is particularly memorable.
The film proved so popular that CBS approached Reubens to reprise the character in a television show, Pee-wee’s Playhouse. While it was created to engage and entertain children, it had a large adult fan base as well, and the show ran for five years. The opening theme to that show was written by Mark Mothersbaugh, frontman for the group Devo, and was sung by Cyndi Lauper.
Here’s another stylish and catchy French-language pop hit from Belgian singing star Stromae, whose moniker comes from switching the syllables in the word “maestro.” All of Stromae’s videos are little works of art. Earlier this year I shared his beautiful and moving video “Papaoutai,” which I first saw on French TV when visiting Paris last year. “Tous Les Mêmes” (“They’re All the Same”) was another number-one hit in France and Belgium recently, and it mixes delicious Latin rhythms, a hip-hop sensibility, world-weary cynical lyrics about gender stereotyping and fun visuals.