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DVD Review: Black Sabbath "Paranoid" (Classic Album)

All Access Review: B+

A seismic shift occurs in Black Sabbath’s monolithic, sci-fi revenge fantasy “Iron Man” that few, outside of former Black Flag front man and spoken-word terrorist Henry Rollins, would ever notice. Swarmed under by Tony Iommi’s panzer division guitar riffs and Ozzy Osbourne’s freakishly sinister distorted vocals, the absolute brilliance of this little treasure often goes unnoticed, getting lost in a storm of gloomy power chords born of the factories of Sabbath’s home of Birmingham, England. Rollins, however, is amazed by this incredibly agile movement.

In the latest edition of Eagle Vision’s highly acclaimed “Classic Albums” series, a documentary that details the making of Sabbath’s archetypal heavy-metal LP, Paranoid, Rollins describes a slow, tantalizing descent in the bridge that shifts into a steep, sure-footed ascent that, according to Rollins, would “sprain” the brains of amateurs, and many professionals, who try to duplicate it. And he might be right.

Giving these small, but crucial, moments in a given work of genius their just due is part of what makes the “Classic Albums” series such vital companion pieces to transcendent albums like Paranoid and this one, in particular, goes to great lengths to make a case for the artist in question and the underappreciated musicality of Sabbath. Whether it’s sitting down with Iommi to dissect some of his most influential guitar parts or watching engineer Tony Allom replay tapes of Ozzy’s lyrical riffing over “Paranoid” in an attempt to refine the melody, this DVD offers incredible technical insight into how Sabbath constructed its undisputed masterpiece, even going so far as to explore the jazz influences of Iommi and drummer Bill Ward – namely, Django Reinhardt and Gene Krupa, respectively - and how they furtively plant these subtle trip wires to alert people to the fact that there’s something more at work here than just massive volume and power. Sabbath is out to blow your mind with how this fearsome foursome is in absolute control of its dynamics.

And lest you think it is all studio reconstruction and jargon that only a musician would understand, think again. As always, the makers of the “Classic Albums” series take pains to put Paranoid in its historical context and study the events in Sabbath’s life to that point that led up to the album that would provide a blueprint for heavy, and at times mind-bending (see the medicated psychedelia of “Planet Caravan”), rock. All four Sabbath members tell fascinating, and often very funny, stories about this heady time in their lives, and in-depth talks with bassist Geezer Butler and esteemed music writers explore the almost unbearable realism of the album’s lyrics and how Sabbath mirrored the madness of the times, especially Vietnam, as the dream of a hippie utopia died in a cruel, tortured fashion.

Again, “Classic Albums” has done what it set out to do, and in the process, it garners a little more respect for a band that was, at first, eviscerated by critics but in the end, has endured as one of hard rock’s most revered quartets. Maybe it ends a little abruptly, but that’s hardly reason to avoid picking this up.

- Peter Lindblad

Eagle Vision: Black Sabbath: "Paranoid" (Classic Album)

Be sure and check back in the coming week to read our interview with Bill Ward.

DVD Review: The Doors "When You’re Strange"
All Access Review: A-

Inscribed on Jim Morrison’s Paris grave marker is a Latin phrase that, when translated to English, is said to mean “True to his Own Spirit.” Morrison’s estranged father, Admiral George C. Morrison, a man who admits to not really knowing his son the rock god all that well – something many in the Doors’ inner circle can relate to – claims to have chosen those words on the advice of a former language teacher. The by-the-book Navy man, so different from his wild-child offspring, got it right with this farewell tribute.

So does The Doors documentary “When You’re Strange,” now out on DVD through Eagle Vision. Where Oliver Stone’s feature bio-pic, “The Doors,” infamously played fast and loose with the facts, failed in epic fashion to capture the dark, mysterious essence of that most enigmatic and alluringly surreal of late-‘60s, early –‘70s counter-culture bands, this Tom DiCillo directed effort is unfailing in its quest for the truth. That is to say that it’s almost always on point whether reciting what really happened in The Doors’ brief, but incendiary, heydays in astonishingly rich and visually captivating detail or re-creating the swirling madness that swallowed up one cult hero and three serious musicians who, as guitarist Robby Krieger put it, made music that was more “symbolic than straight to the point.”

Of course, it helps to have a wealth of never-before-seen archival footage at your disposal. What’s your pleasure? Beguiling, and often riotous and unpredictable, live performances, some of it from landmark moments in Doors’ history, including the Miami incident and more of Morrison’s very public brushes with the law? What about candid vintage interviews with Morrison, Krieger, Ray Manzarek and John Densmore in which they try to explain the unexplainable, namely how their hypnotic music actually makes sense? There’s even film of The Doors at leisure and offstage rehearsals, of members’ lives before the band, plus Morrison’s prophetic movie of his own afterlife, a high-speed journey through a desert in a Mustang Cobra into the great unknown. Were that all there was to “When You’re Strange” it would be merely a funhouse of disparate images. What sets “When You’re Strange” apart is how artfully DiCillo and company pull it all together, with Doors’ songs like the funereal dirge “The End,” the ramshackle, carnival of sound that doubles as the film’s title, and other hits from the catalog gnashing their teeth above the surreal dreamscape of well-edited imagery.

And then there’s Johnny Depp’s deadpan narration, reminiscent of that of Martin Sheen in “Apocalypse Now.” Suitably dry and unobtrusive, Depp breathes gloom and tension into a script that, thankfully, offers a fairly in-depth and intelligent study of the musical chemistry of Manzarek, Krieger and Densmore before digging, with appropriate respect and very little sensationalism, into Morrison’s writings, his descent into alcoholism and its divisive effect on the band, and, ultimately, the cloudy circumstances surrounding his death in Paris. Add in intimate and revealing interviews with Morrison’s father, recorded prior to his death in 2008, and his sister, and what you get is a documentary that is dreamy, intoxicating and pure cinematic poetry.

-Peter Lindblad

Eagle Vision: The Doors: When You’re Strange