Friday, October 13, 2017

Nervous Fever? "Just Throw Money"




Bookend Rendezvous

What if books could slip under covers and swap stories?
This book report matches a pair of unknown titles,
 -- strangers to each other, until introduced here:



No Applause – Just Throw Money:
The Book that Made Vaudeville Famous"
by Travis S. D. (2006) Faber & Faber


The Man Who Lit Lady Liberty:
The Extraordinary Rise and Fall of Actor M.B. Curtis”
by Richard Schwartz (2017) Heyday Books


Readers of this blog may take 30% off their order of 
The Man Who Lit Lady Liberty
Simply enter code JJ1MW when you check out 

Direct Link: 
 this code only works on Lady Liberty
there is no expiration date or maximum number of copies.

* * *

Nervous Fever?

"Just Throw Money"

by Jamie Jobb


"I'd rather have a bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy!"
-- old radio Spoonerism joke, anon.

History can be most unkind to anyone born ahead of one’s time – especially someone from the Nineteenth Century who may have suffered from what my friend Marin County comedian Mike Duvall liked to call a “chronological order disorder”. That strange affliction includes associated maladies known as “Nervous Fever” and “Nervous Prostration”.

The latter term needs no introduction as it flat-out defines its ownself. The more scientific sounding “Nervous Fever” is defined in Webster’s 1913 Dictionary as: a low form of fever characterized by great disturbance of the nervous system, as evinced by delirium, or stupor, disorderly sensibility, etc.”

Nineteenth Century medicine needed “hangover” terms like these to cope with the disorderly stuporof alcohol abuse among bourgeoning populations of immigrants adapting to strange American cities and customs at a time of Industrial Revolution, but long before Prohibition, Alcoholics Anonymous or electric lights.

Liquor had always been an integral feature of theatergoing, from the wine cult of Dionysus straight on through. Bibulousness began to reach new highs (or lows), however, when advances in distillation made cheap whiskey widely available after the 1820s … In its rough-and-tumble heyday the Bowery was something like Times Square, Coney Island, Ripley’s Believe-It-Or-Not Odditoriums and Atlantic City all rolled into one, full of bars, gambling halls, whorehouses, dime museums, and plain old theaters.”
author/playwright Travis Stewart, aka Trav S.D.

Suffering from serious chronological disorder is the historic memory of an “almost totally forgotten” actor and showman M. B. Curtis who aspired to his strange career during a time of great flux in theater history. In 1873, the year Curtis made his breakout appearance in “The Boy Detective” at Chicago’s Woods Theatre, the City of London began to require Certificates of Suitability” for minimum legal, sanitation and safety standards in British theaters. Two decades later, by 1893, Oscar Wilde had become the darling of West End stages while Curtis’ career as a public person essentially ended abruptly that same year when the actor went on trial for murder.


* * *

In late Nineteenth Century America, the life of any touring actor was a treadmill of hardscrabble travel, fleabag flophouses, unpaid IOUs and low-class disrespect. During this transitional period of theater history, candlelit stages had been abandoned but the limelight and gaslight that replaced the candles still rendered most theaters uncomfortable fire traps – particularly for large “crowded houses” cooking in their own body heat. The legal concept of “shouting FIRE in a crowded theater” is based on this sobering fact of theater life – long before electricity or heating-ventilating-air-conditioning systems.

In those uncool days, nobody experienced radio, television, telephone, internet, broadcast or social media. Saloons or theaters with live programs were the primary urban entertainment alternatives to a grim tenement homelife by candlelight. A large London or New York theater in 1880 could employ over five hundred people – counting performers, backstage hands, light crews, riggers, printers, promoters and front-of-house personnel.

The latter half of the Nineteenth Century was a time of great change for the American theater. It was a time of tremendous growth in population ... especially in cities on the East Coast. Americans had more leisure time and better standards of living, and they looked to the theater to provide entertainment ... The expanding transportation system in the United States allowed actors ... to tour the country, bringing professional theater to many towns and cities that had never before experienced it. As the population of the country grew rapidly, the number of theaters in large and mid-size cities grew as well. From the 1850s until the turn of the century, thousands of new theaters were built.”
– University of Washington Libraries – Digital Collections

Onto this chaotic scene burst M.B. Curtis, a trouper whose main claim to fame was becoming the first Jewish immigrant to perform as Hebrew. At the time, most immigrants performing in variety theaters were Irish, as had been the case since George Washington’s time.

Perhaps if M.B. Curtis had been born two decades later, he could have assimilated theatrical innovations that would have sustained his reputation, if not his sober disposition. But Curtis was born too early for any suitable acting career in bawdy vaudeville houses, comfortable “legitimate theaters” or motion picture studios. The actor died in 1920 – when movies were young and vaudeville was in its heyday. But by then, he was a broken, “fevered” man whose story had been lost in buried news clippings and mounds of missing memorabilia.

Theater history ignored the incredible biography of M.B. Curtis until Berkeley author/historian/builder Richard Schwartz unearthed the tragedy during two decades of meticulous research for his well-paced Heyday Book, “The Man Who Lit Lady Liberty”. Schwartz is known for his archeologically nuanced books focused on the many eccentricities of Berkeley, but clearly this oddball East Bay character needed his own volume.



Maurice Bertrand Curtis as
The Drummer” Sam’l of Posen

Curtis stood out among actors as an incredible mimic who “could be his own circus,” according to Schwartz. “He could imitate animals as well as human beings.” The young thespian came to San Francisco from Chicago in the mid 1870s as a supporting dramatic player in a time of widespread economic depression. While theater workers suffered from lack of work, Curtis became notorious as an actor/manager running his own successful traveling stage company with his costar wife Marie who toured with him. And his notoriety grew, not necessarily for his exploits on stage as much as off. This includes ambitious Berkeley real estate investments – including the ill-fated Peralta Park Hotel – which never had a chance to live up to promise.

Two years before London and New York stages were experimenting with the first electrical theater lighting systems, Curtis settled into his signature character – Sam’l of Posen – who was always “drumming” up business as a traveling salesman. Another two decades would pass before most theaters had switched from gas to electric lights. But by then, Curtis’ stage career took a turn toward the “cliffs” from which he’d hang long after his sudden bout of Nervous Fever in the fateful early hours of September 11, 1891.


* * *

Curtis was performing at least two decades before vaudeville’s systematic scheduling and routing of acts on “The Circuit”. Schwartz points out “Sam’l of Posen” was eventually whittled from a four-act melodrama into an unsuccessful vaudeville sketch, but Curtis really never had full advantage and experience of transcontinental management which drove and sustained vaudeville at the turn of the Twentieth Century.

One is left to wonder if Curtis viewed vaudeville as a big belittling of his dramatic talents. He would have gone from manager/star of his own touring show into just another cog in constant shifting gears of back-to-back variety acts playing from dawn to dusk. Curtis would have fallen from “legit” star to variety bit player. And that must have taken a heavy toll on the actor’s own impression of himself in a dressing room mirror.

To further obscure his acting legacy, Curtis only appeared in one motion picture and that was not preserved on film, except for three frames which Schwartz offers in this elegantly illustrated biography. Indeed, the book is most compelling when it casts its spotlight on strange details of Curtis’ eventual acquittal of murder charges brought after the drunken shooting of SFPD Officer Alexander Grant in front of a police station on Folsom Street on that September morning of 1891. In a time of jury-tampering and witness-shopping, the actor suffered through three very public mistrials of the matter, and lost his real estate investments all after that one bout of Nervous Delirium.

M.B. Curtis’ life was so complex, there’s no space in this book report to delve into the story behind Schwartz’ provocative title – a primary indicator of the actor’s widespread fame in one century but total lack of it in the next. However, reading “The Man Who Lit Lady Liberty” is certainly its own reward and Richard Schwartz deserves every accolade he receives for recalling history’s attention to this incredible Nineteenth Century trouper and local misfit.

Who Put the Devil in Vaudeville?

Our small town found itself on the vaudeville circuit in the 1920s. Conveniently for all the acts who tromped through town, the main vaudeville house was located four blocks from the train station with a hotel midway between them on the same street. The theater is now a public defenders office, the rail station abandoned and the hotel destroyed by fire. People in our town today watch “vaudeville” offerings 24/7 on laptops and smartphones attuned to video “variety acts” continuously running back-to-back on social media. In that regard, vaudeville is not “dead”.

Not far from our town-- beyond Berkeley – is San Francisco’s Orpheum Theater which opened in 1887 and became, according to playwright/author Travis Stewart “the birthplace of a vast vaudeville circuit that would dominate the entire country west of Chicago.” Stewart likewise believes vaudeville is not “dead”.

Stewart (aka “Trav S.D.”) leaves no stone unturned to prove that point in “No Applause – Just Throw Money”, as he sifts the sands of variety theater from the Greeks to the present. When he’s not working on plays, Stewart covers culture, arts, politics and theater for The Village Voice, New York Sun, Time Out and Reason. That perspective allows him a unique vantage point and his vaudeville book stands alone as a thoroughly informed study of American theater history – not just variety theater. It’s difficult to find one reference book offering such a detailed breakdown of theater forms.

Stewart draws fine distinctions among places of performance where people entertained themselves long before broadcast standardization of Broadway and Hollywood fare on wifi devices. The author examines every distinct place/style of performance: festival, circus, freak show, tournament, carnival, fete, Mardi Gras, traveling medicine man, blackface, minstrel show, chautauqua, music hall, concert saloon, barrelhouse, burlesque, dime museum, gaiety hall, variety act, super variety show, comedy team and musical comedy to name some. The shape of the theater depended on the shape of the show.

But Stewart’s book takes care to point out vaudeville itself was less about its smorgasbord of offerings as it was about management and movement of these various acts around the continent. Long-distance telephone and railroad lines had enabled actors (and animals) to efficiently travel from town to town on a variety circuit that could not have existed otherwise. No internet business models existed then. Indeed, the only “audience” anyone knew then was a “live audience”.

Or perhaps, a hung jury?

While Travis Stewart makes no mention of M.B. Curtis, Richard Schwartz likewise does not refer to the vaudeville book. But both titles read together provide an deep and intensive background in Nineteenth Century theater history which would be impossible to gather otherwise.  

Further Rendezvous

The Man Who Lit Lady Liberty”








No Applause – Just Throw Money”




Also see

The Cambridge Illustrated History of British Theatre” by Simon Trussler (1994) Cambridge Univeristy Press:

American Vaudeville as Seen by its Contemporaries” by Charles W. Stein (1984) Knopf.




Friday, August 11, 2017

Sneak Peek Behind The Silver Screen


In poorly-aimed selfie, Jamie Jobb imagines Kilroy Was Here


Sneak Peek Behind the Silver Screen
by Jamie Jobb

High-school students who worked as movie ushers in the 1960s understood something about motion pictures that movie watchers never had an opportunity to know. Our inside secret was so unique, we passed it on to every new usher who came to work at our theater – the luxurious Loew’s Riviera in South Miami. This included a fellow student named Jonathan Demme who worked there briefly our senior year before he left town to win an Oscar two decades later for his own brilliant work upon the silver screen.

At the time, The Riviera was among America’s first “shopping center” movie theaters, located conveniently across Dixie Highway from University of Miami. Actually, it was just a strip mall, but the theater was huge. As Loew’s ushers – all uniformly dressed in tux, tails, white gloves and dickies with little black bow ties – we knew we could only introduce new coworkers to our secret knowledge after they’d worked at the theater a while, and settled into the scene that required separate matinee-green and evening-black tailcoats.

And only then, after the seats were full and the movie was running, would we take the new guy backstage, behind the movie screen where suddenly two facts of our job became clear to our fraternal “pledge”, the new usher:

1. The screen was so full of tiny holes, you could actually see the movie playing on the wall behind the screen! The explanation for this odd fact of light was quite simple: projectors in the booth upstairs were fueled by carbon-arc rods which gave off too much bright white light, so the screen had to be perforated in a regular pattern to allow excess illumination to bleed through. Filtered by these thousands of small pinpoint holes, the movie appeared simultaneously as “half-tone” on the backwall behind the screen! This was common throughout the industry; The Movies demanded lots of light – on the set and on the screen. And much of it was wasted behind the scenes.

2. Furthermore, when ushers went backstage behind the screen and looked outward, we could actually see through the screen to watch the audience without any among them knowing they were being observed! This knowledge was very useful to those of us who had to enforce our rules of no running in the aisles nor storming the stage during Saturday children’s matinees. Our backstage spy position also proved useful on those nights when we had large lines around the theater and 1,281 seats full of rowdy college students, including lusty lovers lounging in the smoking loge upstairs. And we knew our manager Marvin Reed would strangle any usher who let some out-of- control suburban kid rip a hole in our gigantic silver screen, an Ultra Panavision 70.

Little did we know at the time that the movie industry would abandon carbon- arc projection before we finished college. And that by the time we aged from school seniors into senior citizens, a movie studio could be reduced to fit inside my garage and my own films could be distributed for free to run 24/7 on computer screens around the world. All our little and big home movies launched into cyberspace by You Tube, Vimeo, Facebook and The Internet Archive.





The kind of place where Mick Jagger could always find some “girly action”

South Beach: Center of the Entertainment Universe

Anyone who went to high school in Miami knew South Beach was where we’d cut our teeth as would-be adults for our first Night On The Town. Normally this happened at Senior Prom, where we couldn’t wait to leave the dull sock hop main event at the school gym and head straight for any Miami Beach night club that would look the other way when a large flock of underaged youth hit Ocean Drive and Collins Avenue with cash saved all year for our one night out with dinner and a show.

Miami Beach was North America’s entertainment mecca in the 1960s, especially after Arthur Godfrey and Jackie Gleason put that thin sandbar on the map. Elvis, Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bob Hope, Jack Benny, Nat King Cole to name only a few were regulars on the night club circuit. A guy who’d later be known as Mohammad Ali could be seen jogging in the fog at 3 a.m. outside Fifth Street Gym. Al Capone lived just offshore on a private island. Las Vegas had gambling, Miami Beach had the Mafia which Demme captured so effortlessly in his “Married to the Mob”.

We returned to South Beach for a high school reunion in the 1990s and got to see how the place had transformed from a community of predominately Jewish elders who’d fled the cold northeast into an internationally fashionable hot spot for night life and global gaiety – this is the setting for my one act play, “Vandals in Sandals”.

“Vandals in Sandals” or “South Beach Spell Check” is set in Miami’s famous South Beach.  The story follows three septuagenarian insomniacs – Mortie, Bertie and Vinnie – as they try to make a living in hard times at the beach. And they seek a Higher Truth as Hebrews for Jesus who seek to practice what they preach.

The comic crime caper was presented for the first time in public at my "Night on the Town" on August 18, 2017.  The play was read by Onstage Repertory Theatre veterans Sal Russo, Linda Sciacqua, Randy Anger, Ryan Terry, Edwin Peabody and Remmington Stone.

The staged reading was part of an evening of short video “home movies” – including improvised comedy sketches, photo essays, music videos and documentary moments all of which are posted on line. The Campbell show provided a rare opportunity to see these small-screen works projected onto a large screen. 

The program also included a staged reading of “the bra scene” from “Joe Fish Ties The Knot” or “Last Gillnet on Grangers Wharf” my full-length play that concerns two fated lovers torn apart during the decline of commercial fishing along the Contra Costa shoreline. Jennifer Brown Peabody, Edwin Peabody, Ryan Terry and Harlan Bailey read Norma Jean, Joe, Mike and Huck, respectively.

Tech by Randall Nott. Production assistance by Helen Means and Onstage Repertory Theatre, the resident theater company at the Campbell which hosted this one-night-only program.


Movie ushers in evening tuxedo short-coats, pinstriped trousers and paper shirts - 1949



“Vandals in Sandals: A Night On The Town with Jamie Jobb” 
was one of several special August programs which kicked off
the new season at Martinez Campbell Theater, 636 Ward Street.



For full calendar see:




Loew’s Riviera history: 

The original Riviera: 



Jonathan Demme in Miami as an usher: http://www.bradenton.com/news/local/article146923869.html

Current occupant of Riviera Theater site: https://www.areastagecompany.com/location 



This article also appeared in print in The Martinez News Gazette:

Friday, July 7, 2017

Vandals in Sandals -- and other works


Current Schedule
(individual items may change,
but time slots will not)

7-7:33 p.m. 
Street View "World Tour"
(pre-show music videos photos by robots)

Screen Giants (4:18) - "Neolithic Female Goddess" Club Foot Orchestra
https://youtu.be/5OTy-xq0lx8

L.A. Safari (4:19) - movie tracks and "The Owl and The Bobcat" Nelson Eddy
https://youtu.be/bsuSvEy0Law

Miami Redux (5:30) - "Egyptian Summer" Jeff Sanford's Cartoon Jazz
https://youtu.be/NnY28J2_kMA

New Orleans Redux (4:53) - "Angelina/Zoom Zoom" Louis Prima
https://archive.org/details/NewOrleansRedux

San Francisco Safari (4:20) - "The Girl with the Light Blue Hair" Jeff Sanford
https://youtu.be/BkFUfXqhM14
"San Francisco like you've never seen it!"

Manhattan Redux (6:14) - "When I Get to New York" Ray Bonneville
https://youtu.be/Gl2WpSjnopg

Join Us Onstage (2:53) - "Esperanza!"
https://youtu.be/FsnSq-s5tgw

Introductions 
(houselights out ... )

7:33-8:15 p.m.
Fragments of Photo Essays, 
documentary moments and
one-take improvisations

"John Wayne's Got A Gun!" (4:18)
https://youtu.be/AV9OLZSjuV8
Henri Freud talks about "homeland insecurity" in 1999 at the Orange County Airport.

"Great Wall of Gazette" (4:12) 
remixed soundtrack of "Citizen Kane"
https://archive.org/details/GreatWallOfGazette
The morning they destroyed the News Gazette's green wall ... condensed into four minutes.

"Gold Miners In The Sky" (4:10)  
Kathy and Jim Ocean's parody of "Ghost Riders in the Sky"
https://youtu.be/MjoyXb94dLo
Photo glints in and around the Hearst Mining Building at UC Berkeley

"A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man" (8:18)
Opening sequence for “Monumental Sculptor: John Fisher”
From the kilns of UC Berkeley to the quarries of Cararra
https://youtu.be/llkoXQXksH8


"Hanging Finster" (4:01) 
"At the Jazz Band Ball" Tuba Skinny
https://youtu.be/bM_UD3l4QEk
Jeremy Hatch hangs the Howard Finster vernacular art exhibition at ARTU4iA.

"Where's Armando's?" (2:22) 
The one and only Ray Bonneville at our local music hall
https://youtu.be/J8hRtJQ_J-A
"Am I even sayin' it right?  Martinez?"

"The Paint" (9:14) 
Closing scene from "Quoting Roy Jeans" the Martinez documentary
https://youtu.be/UNFo8vygmfo?t=10m19s
Wherein Roy paints Snake Road and revisits it as the Miller Trail ...


8:15-9:15 p.m.
Staged Readings, Etc.
written by Jamie Jobb

Bits from "Baggage Claim" or "Late for Thanksgiving" 
(improvised sketch)
LUGGAGE LADY: Anne Baker

"Joe Fish Ties the Knot" or "Last Gillnet on Grangers Wharf" 
(one scene - 15 minutes) - Act II, Scene One.  "The Bra Scene"
MIKE:  Ryan Terry
JOE:  Edwin Peabody
NORMA JEAN: Jennifer Brown Peabody
HUCK:  Harlan Bailey

"Vandals in Sandals" or "South Beach Spell Check" 
(one act - 45 minutes)
MORTIE: Edwin Peabody 
BERNIE: Remington Stone
VINNIE: Sal Russo 
HANDLEBAR WAXMAN: Randy Anger
DICK DICKENS:  Ryan Terry
SARGE MARGE:  Linda Sciacqua






Nobody sent them back!





Paul Mariano outside his old office, a former movie theater



"Nobody sent them back!”

From Public Defense to Motion Picture Storytelling

Documentary filmmaker Paul Mariano
in conversation with Jamie Jobb

Gravitas Docufilms feature “These Amazing Shadows” 
recently screened at the Martinez Campbell Theater 


Q: You grew up in Boston, an East Coast person transformed into a West Coast person. When did you make that transition?

A: I came out to the West Coast in 1969 in the Air Force. I was stationed at Mather Air Force Base in Sacramento, California.

Q: So you were twenty-ish?

A: Yeah. I was 21, I think.

Q: Prior to that all your years had been Boston. That’s a diverse place, in what part of town did you grown up?

A: Primarily Roslindale and West Roxbury. The suburbs.

Q: Streets full of two-story single family detached homes?

A: Yes.

Q: And you had a neighborhood movie theater?

A: Yes! Twenty five cents, you could get in – get admission, a bag of popcorn and a Coke. … What was it called? R-something ...

Q: Not the Roxy?

A: No. It was like Roxy ... I can’t remember the name. 

Q: … Rialto?

A: Yes!

Q: But it had Saturday matinees, and serials, and newsreels, and all that stuff?

A: Oh yeah!

Q: So you grew up with that ... and television also was on the edges of that time?

A: It was. But I was always much more of a movie fan than I was a TV fan. I love stories. I’ve always been a storyteller, which is why I guess I became a lawyer.

Q: You went to a special high school in Boston?

A: I went to the oldest high school in the country, Boston Latin School. It was founded in 1635 – a year before Harvard. The story was Harvard University was created so that Boston Latin students would have a place to go to college! And it was an all boys school, and was until probably the 1980s when it became coeducational. It was at one point – and certainly when I went there – one of the finest high schools ... (chuckles) … My brother, who’s four years older than I, went to Boston Latin School, flunked out after a-year-and-a-half, then went to a different high school and found himself to be literally two grades ahead of everybody who was in that school!

Q: Lot of emphasis on the classics, and literature?

A: We took six years of Latin!

Q: Wow!

A: Nobody takes six years of Latin!

Q: You probably speak it in your sleep!?!

A: “Veni, vidi, vici …”

Q: What were your extracurricular activities in high school?

A: I was interested in golf, and so I was on the golf team. That was about the only athletics I was into … Other than that, I would say I was somewhat of a trouble-maker. We used to get guys, we were in a “home room”, and actually my high school was from seventh to twelfth grade – it was a long long period of time. So I would get guys and we would go sneak down out of class into the weight-lifting room, and we would play dice and cards.

Q: Three-card monty?!?

A: Right.

Q: But you don’t have a “Boston accent”?

A: I lost it after I came to California.

Q: You never worked as a movie theater usher like lots of us back then?

A: No.

Q: And in school you weren’t involved in theater or any of that kinda art stuff?

A: No.

Q: And storytelling was just …

A: … part of my personality more than anything else. I always had an interest in stories and film.

Q: You didn’t go to law school right away, you went into the military, correct?

A: Actually I started college, transferred schools, then (chuckles) got into an argument, a fight with a woman in charge of the Draft Board. As another woman there told me, after that my draft file went from Drawer 18 to Drawer One! And so I got drafted …

Q: Vietnam era?

A: Yes. I’d been down to the Air Force recruiter just to talk, had taken the test and had tested well. So I went back down and said “I got drafted!”, and he said “Well, you enlisted the day before you got drafted. Don’t worry about it!” And he backdated my paperwork and I got stationed at Mather. So because of that, I spent my time out here.

Q: What were you doing in the Air Force?

A: I was an airborne radio repairman. I’d had very little mechanical training, but my aptitude test said I’d be good at it. What I really wanted to do was be a chef or a cook! I love to cook. But I started working on airborne radios for B-52s and KC-135s and was part of the Strategic Air Command. I was a SAC-trained killer!

Q: Those were tube-based radios, big pieces of equipment?

A: Yeah. But these were on B-52s which carried nuclear weapons!

Q: Right! Then… ?

A: Afterwards I finished college at Sacramento State College, and then applied to law school. Got accepted at a couple of places and went to Hastings in San Francisco, graduated from there.

Q: How did you end up in Martinez?

A: After I graduated from law school, I joined the Contra Costa Public Defenders Office. I was assigned to Concord and then Martinez office, where I worked for the last 20 years of my tenure there. I loved the community and the environment, met Suzanne (his wife, a Martinez native) and the rest is – as they say – history. I always really wanted to be in the Public Defenders Office.

Q: Really!?!

A: Yeah, it had everything I wanted. I wanted to be a trial attorney, I didn’t want to sit in an office and make wills and trusts and estates. I wanted to represent from a social/worker perspective …

Q: People who really needed it?

A: Yeah. I didn’t want to represent rich people, rich businesses. When I worked in the Public Defenders Office for thirty years, I got approached a number of times by private firms, I had a good reputation as a trial attorney. And I turned them down because I was happy doing what I was doing. I liked that you could practice law, be a good lawyer, and you also could be a social worker to a certain degree. And the other thing was, it’s kinda like performance. You could be a gamesman. I always said that the best lawyer is always one-third lawyer, one-third social worker and one-third gamesman.

Q: And storyteller?

A: Well, that’s the gamesman.

* * *


Paul and Kurt Norton took "Death off the table" inside this building


Q: How did you meet Kurt Norton and what was the spark that indicated you were going to become filmmaking partners?

A: Kurt was an investigator in the Public Defenders Office. My daughter is deaf. His parents are both deaf. That was a connection that bound us, we became friends. He left the Public Defenders Office, went off into private practice, was doing a lot of death penalty work. I hired him a couple of times as a private investigator to work on a death penalty case.

Q: And Kurt was a filmmaker, interested in filmmaking?

A: Kurt had been accepted into AFI (American Film Institute) Film School, but he didn’t go because of a death in his family. His brother died. And that was a huge blow to the family, so he put it off and just never got back there. Both he and I came from different directions into a love of, and interest in, film.

Q: But he wasn’t from Boston?

A: No. He’s lived in California all his life.

Q: So you both worked in the Public Defenders Office, a building that used to be a movie theater?

A: After we retired, we maintained our friendship and started to go to film festivals together. We went to Toronto and Cannes and San Francisco and down south, LA. So film festivals and the love of film is something that continues to bind us. When I left the Public Defenders Office, I started a company called Gravitas Docufilms. And the first thing we started doing is what I refer to as “mitigation videos” for death penalty cases. A defense lawyer presents mitigation material to the District Attorney saying “Look, we know you’re going to prosecute my client, but don’t try to kill him. Just take Death off the table.” And therefore the severest penalty will be Life Without the Possibility of Parole.

Q: And that video was meant for only one specific set of people.

A: The DA’s office, yes. The Death committee.

Q: A handful of people?

A: Correct. But I realized as an attorney that we would present all these sheets of paper – reports and letters from grandma, the social worker and the rabbi and so on. And who’s gonna read all that material? So I decided the better thing would be – given the influence and impact of movies – give them a twenty-minute video. And it was so successful. We did about fifteen of them throughout the years, and thirteen of them were successful. The DA took Death off the table, they prosecuted them, but they removed the Death Penalty because of the mitigation that we presented on video. And it had such an impact on people. Because we’re all human beings, and we all are influenced by the movies!

Q: That’s interesting because it puts you in a judgment position, in a way. Who to select to have those little shorts?

A: Well, that’s not true.

Q: How does that work?

A: Who selected them was … we made our services available. No one in the criminal defense world was doing this – no one in the entire country. You may see video used by lawyers in ...

Q: … deposition?

A: Well, somewhat in deposition, but more in medical malpractice cases. Little boy gets hit by a bus, becomes quadriplegic. In that case, we see a video “A Day In The Life Of ...” this young child. But nobody was using video in criminal defense work. In criminal defense work there is something called [Penal Code Section] 987 funds provided by the State, so they had money that could be used to make a video and that video could be presented to the DAs to say “You shouldn’t kill this guy because his grandmother says you shouldn’t!” The best part of it seemed so obvious to me: you get a letter as a human being from somebody, and all you see is what’s written down on a piece of paper, black and white. It could be artful, it could be inartful. But most of the time you’re gonna have an inartful letter written by somebody who really cares – the grandmother, the mother, the wife. It’s impossible for the DA to judge how impactful that witness will be to a jury six months down the road in trial. You see that person for five minutes on a video, you know … you can tell that person is going to be able to sway a jury. You can see, no matter how inarticulate they may be, this is the Grandmother of All Grandmothers! Everybody’s gonna love this woman. They’re never gonna give this defendant the Death Penalty because of this person.

Q: So film helps the system overall because it doesn’t waste time on cases it shouldn’t be trying?

A: Absolutely … So then we decided to move past that. We wanted to do something other than continue “practicing law” after we had retired from practicing law! So we decided we would do documentaries.

Q: It seemed a natural step forward?

A: Yeah.

Q: But it seems there’s an “arrow” that continues through your work, with the continued empathetic approach to the subjects.

A: I think so.

Q: And within that frame, you are “the director”?

A: Right ...

Q: But you didn’t go to film school to learn directing. And you weren’t directing people on stage. But you have directed “real people/not actors”?

A: Correct.

Q: That takes some skill. You just don’t coax somebody to do things like that, especially in front of a movie camera. Especially when they’re shy.

A: I think so. When Kurt and I started making documentaries, we interviewed a lot of different people. From Christopher Nolan, the director, to Rob Reiner, the director/filmmaker, to John Singleton…

Q; For “Shadows”?

A: For “Shadows” … there was a wide range of people, from the Librarian of Congress to technicians, audiophiles …

Q: … on purpose … that cross section?

A: That whole group of people, and one of the things that a number of people said to us was that they’d been interviewed before, but that we were skilled interviewers. And I’d say we came from that background -- I was a trial attorney and my partner Kurt was an investigator. So we were very accustomed to – and to a certain degree – skilled in asking questions of people.

Q: The interview process …

A: Absolutely! We were not intimidated – either one of us – by these people. And I’m sure that they had been interviewed by people who had been intimidated by them, scared by them, nervous around them, didn’t know how to ask a question. And we would hone in on what we needed to find out by asking them questions, being able to get to the crux, getting the most information in the best way from them. And not being intimidated by who they were.

Q: And not having them be intimidated by you?

A: True. But because of our backgrounds … I mean, it’s not just being a lawyer or being an investigator, and knowing how to ask a question. It’s knowing how to approach someone before you ask anything. We would always start off for ten minutes, fifteen minutes talking to them about themselves. Not talking about what it is we wanted to talk about. “How’s your last film?” And “I read so and so” … we’d always do our homework. I can remember when we were interviewing The French George Clooney (Samuel Labarthe) in a French dubbing studio. And I was talking to the gentleman about his wife’s movie career, and he said “How do you know that?” And I said, “Well, we do our homework. We know about people.” It’s amazing how people are impressed by that. I’m no different than anybody else. If someone is interviewing me, and knows about me and knows about my background, or knows about my wife or my family or something like that, I feel comfortable around them. I feel like they’re interested. It’s not like “Tell me what it is I wanna know … “

Q: It’s a conversation.

A: It’s a conversation, exactly. When we got started making documentaries, both Kurt and I were interested in – we don’t like the phrase “how sausage is made” – but How Films Were Made … The backstory of how do you make film. And obviously we had read statistics about how many films had been lost through deterioration and degradation and just pure neglect. No one was interested in film. No one was interested in preserving film. I mean, think about films back in the 1930s, 40s, 50s. Films had a certain circuit. They would be made in Hollywood and then they would go to this state or that country and they might wind up in Alaska or Australia. Or Prague. And then that was the end of their circuit. Nobody sent them back!

Q: These were prints!

A: Often times this was the ONLY print …

Q: … that remained?

A: … that remained! And it would be shown again and again until the end. There’s a great story in the DVD extras of “These Amazing Shadows” – a 20-plus minute film called “Lost Forever” and it’s about the loss of film. One story is about a town in the Yukon that was the last stop on the circuit. And how they dug up an ice rink in order to build a new one. They found all these old films, all these old prints, buried under the building!

Q: Actually preserved in the cold ground?

A: The ones that were preserved they gave both to Canada and also to the Library of Congress here.

Q: The National Film Registry is around thirty years old, and that’s about the time Americans started getting serious as a culture about film preservation.

A: The National Film Registry is nothing more than a list of films …

Q: … from the Library of Congress?

A: Correct. But the National Film Preservation Board is a board made up of people from all aspects of the film industry who are selected by the Librarian of Congress to come up with that list of 25 films. They came up with an arbitrary number – I don’t know exactly how – of 25 a year that are marked for preservation. Now the reality, between you and me and the lamppost, is that’s there’s a belief that this preserves the films. A lot of people at screenings would ask us afterwards, “Does that mean that all these films that are listed there are actually preserved?” And the answer is “No!” The answer is that often it’s putting the imprimatur of importance on a film -- be it from the 1940s or 50s or Silent Era, whatever. So the Library of Congress will try to go out and get that film in whatever form it can find. Obviously, it’s on a long list that the Library of Congress wants to preserve.

Q: But they’re not physically saving the films themselves?

A: Nobody doubts the wonderful intentions of the Library of Congress to preserve film, or their acknowledgement of the importance of film. But what they don’t do is they don’t make the films they have accessible. Why aren’t they putting them up on a website someplace, where people could watch these wonderful films? Obviously if you choose a film from the 1980s or 90s you can get a DVD or watch it on a blue-ray, Netflix, whatever. But there are so many films – be they shorts, newsreels, films from the 1920s, 30s or 40s – that are not readily available. And The Library has a copy. So we would ask people on the National Film Preservation Board why don’t you try to make these films accessible to the public, to share with the public generally these films that are out there. Some agreed with us, some did not.

Q: Did you study film or theater or journalism in school?

A: No.



Mariano is a self-made "film student"

Q: But you’re interested in storytelling and you take a backstage perspective, so what fired that interest in you?  Because, I mean, you didn’t initially recall the name of your local movie theater!?!

A: I don’t know the answer to that question. When we were making “These Amazing Shadows” we met a lot of people who are actors, directors, producers – from the obscure to the famous, very well known. And all of them universally talked about their fascination with, and love of, film. Some were able to explain in either intelligent or technical terms what it was about movies that so drew them … We talked to (Martin) Scorsese, he grew up in the tough neighborhoods of New York and for him the movies and movie theaters were an escape. He went there literally to escape the “Mean Streets” forgive the pun. But that’s why he went to the movies. That’s not necessarily true of me, but I think that for different reasons, myself and all the filmmakers we interviewed were attracted to the storytelling of movies … that fantasy life, that world. I mean I make documentaries, but it was not documentaries that I was seeing as a kid. It was the swashbuckling, the westerns, the comedies, the serials … that was all fascinating to me. That you could put this up on the screen. It was a whole different world!

Q: And as kids, after we left that theater, that experience resonated out of the room with us. You rode your “horse” outta there, or some sword fight you’re gonna have ‘till you get back home, right?

A: As one of our interviews pointed out, a film doesn’t take place in that two-hour period on screen. It takes place after you leave the theater and it’s you talking about it with someone at a restaurant or a bar. It’s you living, and re-feeling, those moments. Long afterwards, for days even. That’s the power of movies.

Q: In “Being George Clooney” you concentrate on sound while in “These Amazing Shadows” you seem to concentrate on the picture. Some of those “Shadows” frankly didn’t have a sound track. And you beautifully start “Clooney” off with us seeing that sound track before we realize the sleight-of-hand, “That’s not him!” when you cut to the dubbing actor. How does that sound-based approach play into your work, you’re not musical … ?

A: No … Although I did play trombone in the school orchestra!

Q: So you have some sense of playing music with a group of people, and importance of sound on film. For the music on “Shadows” you brought in Peter Golub, who was able to take existing scores and meld them in a way that created a coherence of the musical track. How was he discovered and brought into the production?

A: Our producer, Christine O’Malley, is from LA and is part of the O’Malley Creadon Production Company. They make documentaries on their own. They knew of, and had used, Peter before. And so she recommended him to us. We met with Peter, absolutely adored him, liked his music, listened to some work that he had done. He’d written the music to “The Great Debaters” with Denzel Washington.

Q: A drama …

A: Peter wanted to go to Prague and use the Prague Symphonic Orchestra to record a soundtrack for the film. And the reason he did that is, he said “This is a soundtrack about film. Film is big and it’s important. We don’t need little bits and pieces, needledrops and stuff, we need big music!” So he went very big with the score. And it was money well spent. He was influenced and impacted by the soundtracks of some of the big films that we were showing on screen. We did a couple montages of big screen moments which move people. But those big screen moments are also influenced by the music that’s in the background. You might not remember the music, but …

Q: … it works because of the music. You can’t just grind up those old scores!

A: Correct. Whether it’s “Gone With the Wind” or whatever. So he was able to realize the importance of a big soundtrack and to create that big original soundtrack for “Shadows”.

Q: Is Peter a composer generally?

A: Yes. He does mostly film music, but he’s done a bunch of stuff. He’s done TV work, and actually composed sonatas and Broadway scores. And he was talking about how expensive it is to hire an orchestra in the United States because they’re all unionized and the difference in price. I mean we had to fly him and a music supervisor to Prague and spend four or five days there doing this music. And that was a drop in the bucket compared with what it would have taken to get San Francisco or Seattle or San Jose orchestra to do it.

Q: Do you think that the music itself was a major factor in getting your film to open at Sundance?

A: Absolutely! I think that all of us would openly admit and attest to the fact that Peter did an incredible job with the score. The success of the movie, be it on television or in theaters, getting into Sundance was because of the score. I mean the film itself I think reawakens people’s attachment to, and love of, movies. We were asked to screen it to a group of high school students in Salt Lake City when we were at Sundance. There were five hundred students in this huge auditorium. They absolutely loved the movie. And they were able to see humor where there was humor, and they were able to see films that they recognized. There were obviously films that they didn’t recognize that were before their time. So that’s one of the attributes of our movie. It appealed to a young audience too. Kurt had an experience where we screened the film at the Tiburon Film Festival and he was approached afterwards by a nine-year-old girl and a 90-year-old woman who both came up to him at the same time to talk about how much they loved the movie. That was the great part about the film, it had something for everybody.

Q: Let’s talk about your editors. When the shooting is all done, you dump it all on their laps, right?

A: Yeah!

Q: And you’ve worked with the same editors – Doug Blush and Alex Calleros – from the beginning. How did you meet them?

A: We were looking for an editor, and we’d read about Doug Blush, seen some of his material. Doug produces, writes, directs and is an editor extraordinaire! He went to USC film school and has won Academy Awards. He also has a musical background, so one of the things that we liked was how he edited sound ... there was something about the rhythm of his editing. Anyway, he lives in Los Angeles but he was up in San Jose working on a film. We found that out and went down to San Jose, took him out to dinner, bought him a couple of beers, told him about our project. He was very interested in it. So we agreed that he would be the editor for our film. But he wanted someone to help him because we got into, as you often times will when editing – not in a fictional film, but in a documentary – you’re creating something out of a block of clay. And you get to points where you ask “What are we doing?!? What are we trying to create here? We’ve got some great material – we know that. But we don’t know exactly what it’s supposed to look like.” We got to a point a couple of times in the editing process where we’d kinda get to loggerheads. So we brought in Alex Calleros, who is much younger than we are …

Q: The three of you: Doug, Kurt and yourself.

A: Of the three of us, I’m the oldest, then Kurt, then Doug. And Alex was twenty-something, a Millennial kinda guy. He brought in a certain kind of insouciance and youthfulness to the project. And it was funny. I can remember him editing some things and me thinking “Eehhh, that’s not gonna work!” And then in seeing it all cut together, I thought “Now, that works perfectly”! Alex brought a lot of humor. There are moments in “Shadows” that are funny, irreverent and absolutely work perfectly.

* * *



Boston Latin School: "Veni, Vidi, Vici!"

Q: Your courtroom practice, getting those stories, sometimes where life and death is involved ... do you see that background working when you’re out there doing film work? Do you see yourself drawing on that experience? Because you call yourself “Gravitas” … I mean, you’re not making screwball comedies!?!

A (chuckles): I don’t know the answer to that question. I don’t think that consciously … I do know that Kurt and I have had conversations about not making a conscious effort to try to save the world. We know that documentaries are different than narrative fictional films. We know that they can be very influential and we try to tell a story. We try to make it important. But we also try to make it entertaining. We want people to enjoy it, and we want people to learn something. But we don’t necessarily want people to leave the theater, as with “An Inconvenient Truth”, and think “Oh! I have to save the environment! I’m gonna go join this club and do this action!” I mean, at the end of “Shadows”, there’s a title card that says if you wanna nominate a film for next year’s Film Registry, please go on to this website and do it. It’s important. But we don’t feel like we’re on a mission, so to speak. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not minimizing or denigrating documentary filmmakers that have a cause. I mean, there are extremely important films be it “An Inconvenient Truth” or whatever that attempt to do that and I think that those are valuable and necessary. But that’s not what we wanna do. So we’re always looking at the entertainment … so you’ll always find that there’s humor in our films.

Q; But the “gravitas” … that’s coming directly from both of your experience with the criminal justice system?

A: True. We’ve been approached a number of times and people have asked us, “Why don’t you make films about the criminal justice system?” Something we know extremely well. And there have been a couple of instances where we have done some pre-production work on them, but have never gotten around to it. And those are again, valuable/important subject matters. I just don’t wanna do it.

Q: It’s climb-on-the-high-horse kinda movie making …

A: I lived that life and I lived it very well. And I thought it was an important thing … I felt that what we did as a lawyer, as an investigator in the criminal justice system was extremely important. We were, in a sense, saving people’s lives. One life at a time, so to speak. But I don’t want to save anybody’s life through filmmaking. I just want to inform and entertain.

Q: … and still tell those stories!

A: Yes! And tell those stories. Tell people something they didn’t know. That’s why I love movies about making movies. What I’ve learned about filmmaking from behind the scenes has been extremely influential and rewarding to me.

Q: But … you don’t see yourself making fiction films?

A: No, no. We’ve thought about that as well. When I watch TV or go to a movie, I’m always thinking … “Oh! This is the way it should have been written! It makes no sense whatsoever to have this plot line here. This was distracting, this wasn’t helpful. What they should have done was this!” So I always have that in the back of my head. I think I know how to write better than some screenwriters, but at the same time, that’s not what I wanna do.

Q: And you never know until you’re there, in the middle of a project like that, this wonderful thing you’ve dreamed up is gonna land anywhere near a secure place! It takes a long time to make a movie, beginning to end. What do you foresee ahead of you coming up?

A: Kurt is working on a project right now, in fact he’s headed off to London with our crew. He’s trying to get backing for a film on climate change/global warming. A different approach to it. And one of the things we’re working on also is the future of labor in America. And that is something that is so rapidly changing. We went from an agrarian society to an industrial society and now we’re changing to a technological society. So I mean it’s everything from technological mechanization and automation through robots, the use of robots. What jobs are safe. What jobs are not safe. When people lose their jobs, how do you incorporate … there’s a phrase in the industry called “collaborative robots” where the robots are working with humans and not replacing them. So there’s so much subject matter. And what we’re presenting right now is a presentation for our distributor to approach Netflix to do a five or six part series. That would be an hour each. To do various aspects of the changing face of labor in America.

Q: So that would give you room to dive deep into it!

A: We had looked long and hard into doing a self-contained, what’s called a “one-off” – a 90-minute documentary on it. It was just …

Q: … some subjects are just too big!

A: Yeah. On “Shadows” I think what was most important to us was the loss … the actual loss of this material that was so impactful, if there is such a word. Or important to our culture. Movies are not only important to us as individuals, personally. I mean we talk about that two hours and all the time after that you relive and re-feel the movie. But the movies are also important to us as a culture. Film moves culture and society in various ways and to various degrees. That’s not true of every single film, that’s made, but films reflect the nature and ethos of our society.

Q: At the time!

A: Yes! Exactly. And that’s an amazing thing for a medium to do, be it the sound or the visual … Things move so technologically quickly today, unlike forty years ago let’s say. But film was so important to us as a society and that’s one of the things that the National Film Registry tires to do, point out the importance of these pictures.

* * *



Timeline of the State Theatre

Q: Not all of your Public Defender years were in the building that was once the State Theater?

A: True. We were at 610 Court Street.

Q: But you did move into the State Theater building after it was refurbished, and you were aware of what it was?

A: Yes.

Q: And what it was was a vaudeville house that was huge! It had a fly above the stage and it was built in the wrong year probably – 1926 – just before the talkies were getting started and later it became the State theater showing movies.

A: My wife’s father used to be an usher there.

Q: It had fifteen hundred seats, didn’t it? Pretty big house.

A: I think so.

Q: Did you ever poke around the building to see what, if anything, remained of the original theatre?

A: No.  But when we toured the building before moving in, the builders told us they had preserved the original murals and other artwork before framing over it.

Q: Did you climb up into the fly above the stage?

A: No.

Q: You've used Kickstarter and other public-based funding sources as well as private backing ... Is that now a necessity of the documentary business? And do you need to line up distribution prior to production, only after knowing your budget can be met?

A: We were fortunate enough to have a distributor for “Shadows” before we went to Sundance – a rarity in the business. Very few documentaries have (or line up) a distributor prior to filming/production. We proceeded with production on our films through a combination of self-funding, crowd-sourced funding (e.g. Kickstarter) and grants. We’ve been fortunate to find distribution and sales after our films were completed.

Q: What other documentary filmmakers inspire you?

A: There are so many people! ... I like Michael Moore’s work, but …

Q: … his advocacy?

A: I don’t mind the advocacy, I mind the personal involvement … a little too much.

Q: Others?

A: Errol Morris. His “Thin Blue Line” is an incredible piece of work.

Q: Do you know where his film school was?

A: No.

Q: In the seats of Pacific Film Archive!

A: He’s very inventive.

Q: In college, we invited Jonas Mekas to talk to our film club. Mekas was The Village Voice underground film critic and a “diary” filmmaker. Still active! But his talk was the first time I’d ever heard of “non-narrative film”. And his movies really stood out, they were these little slices of life, each with a date. They were even less narrated than most non-narrated film! But there is this thing he discussed about the unveiling of the story, and there’s a non-narrative approach to all of your documentaries, correct? There’s not a narrator there saying “Hi everyone I’m going to lead you around by the nose and tell this story” … I mean they story unfolds in all of your documentaries, correct?

A: Yes, we know lots of documentaries use narrators, but we’re not big fans of narrators. We’re more concerned with presenting a story and having the audience figure it out for themselves, basically. One of the things that I found – not having a background in filmmaking at all – was that filmmaking is one of the most collaborative art forms. And the idea of working with editors and composers and producers and other people in sculpting a story after film has been shot. I mean, Kurt and I met today on a film he’s working on about climate change and global warming, I’m producing. And he and I were talking how in “These Amazing Shadows” we must have interviewed over a hundred people. We didn’t know where to end! But part of it was ... you know you’re looking for someone within the industry to talk about a certain subject matter and you end up spending a couple of hours and realize … “This is not the Best Person to do this.” And other times you get lucky and it just meshes.

Q: But with no one person to narrate the story …

A: We interviewed way too many people. We used, I think it was 48 or 50 interviews. It’s always difficult because you feel like they’re your children in a sense. “Which one am I gonna send to college?” I can remember in the first film I would send emails to people saying Sorry, you didn’t make the cut.” And even in “George Clooney” there were people that we really liked, but they just didn’t fit into the story. It wasn’t that they were bad … in fact, what I specifically did was, when I was asked by our distributor, Goldcrest, to do the DVD extras, I intentionally went back and included a lot of people that didn’t make it into the movie.

Q: When is that DVD coming out?

A: It’s supposed to come out in August.

Q: So you may have it in time for your screening at the Campbell.

A: I would love for that to happen …

* * *


State Theater shortly after it opened in 1926.
(historic image provided by Julian Frazer)


Find out more:

Gravitas Docufilms:

These Amazing Shadows” on line:

More Shadows Links!

National Film Registry listing:

Doug Blush links:


Alex Calleros links:


Peter Golub links:

Tiburon International Film Festival: