GLASS: A PORTRAIT OF PHILIP IN TWELVE PARTS - DVD review

Philip Glass is well aware of his critics: "I still have a very solid, strong hate faction." He also doesn't care: "Go listen to something else. You have my blessing." For Glass, the negative reaction is simply proof that he's doing something different, something important, something challenging.

Some people find it quite a challenge to listen to a Philip Glass composition. Generally described as minimalist (a label the musician dislikes), Glass' symphonic compositions are driving, repetitive sonic walls. Like most people, I know him best from his film scores, the best of which have been made for directors Errol Morris ("The Thin Blue Line," "Fog of War") and Godfrey Reggio (the three "'Qatsi" films – take a brief listen to Koyaanisqatsi for a sample) though the Academy, as you might expect, has nominated him three times for some of his less distinguished work ("The Hours?" Good grief!) You don't need to check the credits to know you're watching a film scored by Phillip Glass; there is no mistaking it for anything else.

But Glass is a prolific composer who has worked in multiple formats: his score for the Robert Wilson opera "Einstein on the Beach" is one of his best-known stage works. When director Scott Hicks asks Glass what his secret is, he is refreshingly forthright. "The secret? Get up early and work all day."

Much of "Glass: A Portrait of Philip in 12 Parts" is refreshingly forthright. Hicks doesn't mysticize Glass as a solitary genius. Glass is not an autodidact. He was trained at Julliard then later studied in Paris with Nadia Boulanger (which he claims was the start of his real education.) He moved back to New York in the late 60s where he befriended or was influences by the likes of Allen Ginsberg, experimental filmmaker Michael Snow, and painter Chuck Close. Close, who drew a well-known portrait of Glass (he loves the "dendritic" quality of Glass' hair), is featured prominently in the film. He recalls that they helped colonize SoHo before it was SoHo.

Despite his classical training, Glass is ardently anti-theory. For him, music is primarily a matter of two things: hard work and listening. He draws on Jungian imagery to compare music to an underground river whose sound he listens to and, in a sense, translates to the page. And even though it requires hard work, it isn't really work so much as a way of living. As his fourth and current-as-of-shooting wife Holly notes, every vacation they've ever taken is a working vacation. Music is simply a part of his daily existence.

Hicks employs the fairly standard strategy of splitting his attention on Glass' work and his personal life. Here, Glass is portrayed as more of an archetype, the obsessive creator who doesn't have enough time to deal with real-world concerns which explains, in part, why his marriages have not lasted long (his third wife Candace, however, died of cancer.) By the end of the film, Holly is on her way from being his fourth wife to his next ex-wife.

This emphasis on Glass' marriage history isn't nearly as edifying as the material that covers his work, but it serves as a useful balance to the narrative structure. Of much less use, however, are the scenes depicting Glass' grab-bag approach to Eastern and New Age mysticism. He has more gurus than ex-wives and appears to explore virtually every belief system either for fear of missing the right one or in the hope of synthesizing them all into something more personal. I guess this approach is in harmony with his description of listening to music rather than creating it, but I found these the least engaging sequences in the documentary.

Controversial, stubborn, and idiosyncratic, Philip Glass is undeniably one of the more influential composers of the latter part of the 20th century. It's hard to argue with his belief that the backlash against his work is a testament to its provocative nature. In a time when bombastic, derivative scores by film composers like Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard are accepted as the industry models to aspire to, Glass' scores are perhaps no less bombastic but are vastly more compelling. Films like "The Thin Blue Line" and "Koyaanisqatsi" simply would not exist without Glass who can reasonably be said to be the co-auteur of at least the ‘Qatsi movies and perhaps even his collaborations with Errol Morris.

Count me in the pro- camp. I love Philip Glass' work, and I enjoyed this documentary quite a bit.

VIDEO

The film is presented in a 1.85:1 anamorphic transfer. The transfer is interlaced and is a mediocre effort with substantial combing apparent which, as usual, is mainly a problem in scenes with camera movements.

AUDIO

The DVD is presented in Dolby Digital 5.1. Optional English subtitles are provided to support the English audio – the subtitles also provide descriptions of the music and other audio cues. I'm not an audiophile, but the sound mix sounded adequate to me. The music wasn't the quality you might on a remastered CD, but it was certainly pleasurable.

EXTRAS

This is a two-disc release from Koch Lorber.

Disc One features a Director's Commentary along with nine deleted/extended scenes (22 min. total) and a trailer.

Disc Two is divided into two sections. First, there are three Interviews with Philip Glass with a total running time of 110 minutes. The interviews were recorded, respectively, at Gramercy Park Hotel, Tibet House and The Met Opera House.

There are also four different Performances (71 min. total):

-"Dracula" – Glass and Michael Reisman rehearsal with the Kronos Quartet
-"Metamorphosis" – a solo piano performance in Melbourne
-"Orion" – with the Philip Glass ensemble and a host of featured artists
-"Einstein on the Beach" – Leigh Warren and dancers in rehearsal with the Adelaide Voice project

The first and fourth performances are just a few minutes long – the middle two take up the bulk of the running time.

A slim insert booklet contains very brief production notes by Hicks.

FILM VALUE

"Glass" is a fascinating look and the work and life of one of the modern era's most intriguing composers. Hicks avoids many of the pitfalls of artist portraits by grounding the musician firmly in every day reality. Glass is a genius but he's mostly a hard worker, fanatically devoted to his craft. If you don't like his music, nobody, including Scott Hicks, is going to change your mind. But for fans or for other curious viewers, this is an excellent way to get know something more about the man and his work.

Random trivia I learned from the doc: Philip Glass' middle name is Morris. Either he was named after an uncle or mom and dad had a sense of humor.