The tortured artist. Or the dope fiend. From there the sky is the limit. There’s no telling how high he’s been, how low he’s been, and how many folks he ends up taking with him.
To both places.
Especially when what he once was is now gone and he’s poised for a comeback. That’s the part where the past intertwines with the present and you can never really be certain what that means for the future.
And always the same assumptions [from some]: that however much he twisted his life up into impenetrable knots, all that turbulence was necessary in order that it could be parlayed into great music. It’s only a question then of how far you go before it all just becomes pathetic.
The very first scene is riveting: Chet dope sick in an Italian jail reaching for a tarantula crawling creepily out of a trumpet lying a million miles away on a fetid cell room floor.
“He loved his horn, he loved his heroin”. And there is never going to be a “right balance” to strike here. You’ll just take out of it what you put into it: yourself.
And then there’s the part about jazz. A genre [I still] know very little about. But if you are a part of it you are always going to be judged by others as either more or less authentic. Players are always comparing themselves to others. Who is the coolest cat? Who plays the best?
And then the part about race.
Many however will react to it more like this:
I’ve got no kick against modern jazz
Unless they try to play it too darn fast
And lose the beauty of the melody
Until they sound just like a symphony
In the world of music, there’s just no getting around this particular chasm.
That grain of salt though: The film is said to be “semi-factual, semi-fictional”.
IMDb
[b]Stephen McHattie, who starred as the father of Chet Baker in this movie, also starred in Robert Budreau’s short film ‘The Deaths of Chet Baker’ in 2009 as Chet Baker.
According to Ethan Hawke on the ‘WTF Podcast’, he wanted to play ‘Chet Baker’ going back 15 to 20 years before. Richard Linklater, when approached with Hawke by the idea of a biopic, had his own idea of making a Baker film about a day-in-the-life story about the day before Baker tried heroin for the first time. But because the project couldn’t gain traction, and Hawke’s age not matching up after years of effort of finding a distributor, the idea was dropped. [/b]
at wiki: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Born_to_Be_Blue_(film
trailer: youtu.be/lC1DQ9qIECo
BORN TO BE BLUE [2015]
Written and directed by Robert Budreau
[b]Club announcer: We’re proud to present the man who’s been voted number one in the nation for both trumpet and vocals. All the way from the sunny shores of California, the James Dean of jazz, the Prince of Cool, the man “Time” magazine credits with inventing West Coast Swing.
[cheers and applause]
Club announcer: That’s right, folks. And he’s here playing a double bill with our very own Miles Davis and Dizzy Gillespie. Making his Birdland debut, Chet Baker and his quartet!
…
Woman [with a syringe of heroin]: I can’t believe you never tried before. You’re so square.
Chet: I hate needles. Will you do it for me?
Woman: Yeah.
[she pats his arm]
Woman: Hello, fear.
Chet: Hello fear.
Woman: Hello, death.
Chet: Hello, death.
Woman: Fuck you.
Chet: Fuck you.
…
Woman [playing Elaine, looking down at the dope]: What is this shit? What is this shit?..You did this because of Miles? Chet, say something![/b]
Only it’s all an act.
Only it’s not.
[b]Dick: A lot, uh, a lot’s changed since you left.
Chet: Yeah, I see.
Dick: Jazz is dying. Dylan went electric.
Chet: You sold Pacific, Dick.
Dick: No, I built it up. You tore it down.
Chet: We built it up…
Dick: I built it up.
Chet: We built it up. You tore it down. And…and you sold it out.
Dick: I sold…yeah, at least I didn’t abandon my wife and kid and become the world’s biggest junkie.
Chet [after a pause]: I did fuck everything up, didn’t I?
…
Jane: So what did Elaine like to do?
Chet: Elaine? Mostly, she liked to fuck. Yeah. She liked to fuck, and I liked fuckin’ her.
Jane: What? I don’t know. Your songs are so romantic. But I guess you never wrote them, right?
Chet: One time, we did it seven times in two hours. What do you think about that?
Jane: Sounds like you fuck too fast.
Chet: Uh, I do better when I’m high.
Jane: So you’re really a junkie?
Chet: Huh? I got some habits.
Jane: So what, your parents didn’t love you enough or something?
Chet: No, it’s nobody’s fault.
Jane: So why are you such a fuck-up, then?
Chet: Huh? You want to know? You want to know the truth?
Jane: Yeah, I want to know the truth.
Chet: It makes me happy. I love to get high.
…
Chet: Why don’t you come back with me to my place and we can sing?
Jane: That’s not a good idea. Listen, I know all about you.
Chet: What do you know?
Jane: I know you’re trouble.
Chet: Trouble’s good for you.
…
Jane: That’s why your playing touches people.
Chet: Mm-hmm.
Jane: It’s like what Chekhov said when his patients were fevering on what kind of food they liked to eat: “Something sour.” And my dad read me all the philosophers before I was a teenager, but Chekhov? He thought that the feelings that we experience when we’re in love are our normal state, that being in love shows a person who he should really be.
…
Doctor [voiceover]: He’s got severe trauma to the neck… possible fracture of the cheek. He’s lost all his front teeth…
Dick [voiceover]: You know what an embouchure is? Like a piano player not having any hands. 28 eight years of practice, gone. He’ll never play again.
…
Newscaster [on TV]: And from the Hollywood, a dramatic U-turn. The studio is now shelving the Chet Baker movie, which was meant to launch the recently paroled jazz legends comeback.
Jane: They haven’t called me. They can’t shelve the movie that quickly.
Dick: That was no stranger that did this. That was Chet’s dealer.
…
Dick: Do you think the studio’s gonna have anything to do with this? Just wake up.
Jane: Okay, wait, somebody must be able to help. I mean, somehow…
Dick: How many people have called? How many people have come to visit? We’re all here. This is everybody. And I’m leaving.
[he looks down at Chet in the hospital bed]
Dick: I’ve looked after you for 13 years, Chet. But I’m…I’m done.
…
Miles: Must be real hard posing for all these pretty pictures.
Chet: I’m just trying to sell records, right’?
Miles: Right. Let me tell you something. I never trust a cat… let loot or love effect his art. You think them silly white girls out there understand a lick about jazz’?..You want some advice, Baker? Go back home to the beach, man. This ain’t the place for you. Come back when you’ve lived a little.
…
Jane: So you’re gonna kill yourself because you can’t play trumpet anymore?
Chet: Yes.
Jane: Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Play something else. Sing.
Chet: Maybe we haven’t been introduced. My name is Chet Baker. I’m one of the greatest trumpet players of my generation. One of the best jazz improvisationalists.
Jane: So it’s trumpet or nothing?
Chet: Yes.
…
Chet: When I was released from the army, a little while later I came home one day…and there was a note on my door. It said, “Auditions with Charlie Parker at the Tiffany Club, 3:00 p.m.” I saw it. I grabbed my horn, and I went over there. I could see 30 or 40 trumpet players all sitting there, and every trumpet player in LA was there. And there he was, biggest ass, but he was somebody, right? And then after a while, he says, “ls Chet Baker here?” Somebody must’ve told him about me, right? And I said, “Yeah. Yeah, Bird, l-Im here.” And so I came up, and we played “Toot Toots.” We played “Cheryl” and “The Song ls You.” He took the microphone. He said, “Thanks for coming, everybody. This audition is over.”
Jane: He gave you the job just like that?
Chet: Just like that. He said I was “bixellated.”
Jane: He was a big, fat junkie by then, right?
Chet: Don’t talk shit about Bird. It was an honor to score for him.
Jane: Some role model.
Chet: Yeah, he was. He was. He never hurt anybody but himself. Just like me.
…
Chet [to himself]: Hey, Miles. Hey, Dizzy. There’s a white cat on the West Coast gonna eat you up.
…
Chet: I sold a lot of that record.
Father: Hmm.
Chet: How many records did you sell? Oh, that’s right. You-you quit, right? I didn’t quit.
Father: Yeah. But I never embarrassed my family. I never dragged the Baker name through the mud.
Chet [after a pause]: Good-bye, Dad.
…
Dick: So I heard you were clean.
Chet: I am. I’m clean. Ever since the accident.
Dick: Accident? How much you need?
Chet: Dick…I just need a session, man.
Dick: I heard you were playing some pizza parlor.
Chet: Yeah, yeah.
Dick: I didn’t even think that that would be possible.
…
Jane: You went and saw Dick, right? What did he say?
Chet: Told you. He said no. I mean, you know, I’m not gonna beg him.
[he sighs]
Chet: At this point, I’d do anything.
…
Jane: How is he doing?
Dick: Oh, he’s, uh, struggling.
Jane: You said he’d never play again.
Dick: I don’t know what’s worse, Chet not playing or Chet playing mediocre.
…
Dick: You know, this is the first time I’ve seen him sweat. Everything came so easily for him musically. I think that was one of the problems.
Jane: You think he’ll ever play high-level again?
…
Chet [to Jane’s father]: I mean, here’s the deal, all right? I don’t mind if you want to give me a lecture about being responsible or anything like that, but if you start talking to me about music or talent or Bird… you know, uh, I might have to say, “Fuck you.”
…
Chet: Danny was saying he’s thinking about Birdland.
Dizzy: Look, Chet, you’ve come a long way, but, uh-
Chet: But what?
Dizzy: Well, they only do special events now.
Chet: Dizzy, come on. You’ve still got pull there. Everybody respects you. You got the-the key to the gate, you know?
Dizzy: You ain’t ready or Birdland, man.
…
Dizzy: A sound that’s all your own. Ain’t no denying that.
Chet: And I’m ready to play Birdland.
Dizzy: It’s not your playing that I’m worried about. All things be ready if your mind be so. Are you sure you’re ready to come back?
Chet: I’ve learned three different embouchures, all right? I got a left, I got a center, and I got a right, and if you let me sing, okay, I can play two full sets before my teeth fall out, okay?
Dizzy: Eyes on the prize. God, you are a glutton beggar. I’ll get you Birdland. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
…
Chet [at Birdland]: Miles is here too?
Dick: Everybody’s here.
…
Chet: I’m not getting a cold. I ran out of methadone, you know.
Dick: What did you say?
Chet: Two days ago, I ran out of methadone.
Dick: You…you stopped taking your medicine? You—Chet, come on! You’ve got every cat on the East Coast out there waiting for you to play the biggest gig of your career, and then you…
Chet: I don’t want a career, Dick. I told you that. If I wanted a career, I’d get a fucking job.
Dick: Okay, okay.
Chet: Okay? I wanna play. All I want to do is play.
…
Dick: Chettie, I found some methadone. I didn’t take no for an answer. Remember Johnny Red? He was holding…
[he looks down at the dresssing room table — at the heroin spoon]
Dick: Fuck. It’s all gonna start again. Jane will leave you.
Chet: I don’t think I can play otherwise.
…
Dick: Take the methadone. I mean, you’ve been playing great on it.
Chet: Yeah, it sounded great. You said that if I really nail this show, there’ll be lots of gigs, right? Maybe a European tour?
Dick: Look, I thought you didn’t want a career.
Chet: I want my life back. Dick, come on. I want to play music the way that I want to play it. You know, this is my last chance.
Dick: No.
Chet: Yes.
Dick: No.
Chet: Yes.
Dick: But it is a chance, but if you…If you sing with the tongue of angels but you have no love, then you’re a clanging cymbal.
Chet: What-what does that mean?
Dick: I don’t want you to be empty out there. It gives me confidence. It does. Time gets wider, you know. Not just longer. And…and I can just…oh, I can get inside every note. I can.
Dick: Every pretty note?
Chet: Yeah.
Dick: But that’s you. That’s all you. It’s always been you. Your choice.
…
Jane [taking Chet’s “ring” from around her neck]: Will you give this to Chet?
Dick: I’m sorry.
Jane [turning to walk away]: Don’t be sorry for me. [/b]
We know what he chose, don’t we?
Titlecard: After his comeback in New York City, Chet Baker went to Europe where he lived for the rest of his life. He made some of the best music of his career and remained a heroin addict. He died in 1988 in Amsterdam.