Six selections from Mark Kermode's Celluloid Jukebox

If you've not been listening to Mark Kermode's Celluloid Jukebox on BBC Radio 2 over the past couple of months, then you've been missing out on some predictably high calibre music and film opinions. The first series (hopefully of many) has now finished, but the last few episodes are still available on the BBC iPlayer here at the time of writing . There are also podcast versions of all six episodes available to download, but frustratingly these excise anything more than about twenty seconds of each track played (presumably for licensing reasons). Whilst it's always good to hear what Mr. Kermode has to say on the topic of cinema, this rather defeats the point of listening to a series about music in the movies.

To give you a flavour of the diverse and often rarely heard songs included throughout the episodes, below are six of my favourite tracks, one from each episode. Several of these come from films I've yet to watch, so don't be surprised if reviews of some of these crop up on the site sometime in the not-too-distant future.


Episode 1
Track: "The Hearts Filthy Lesson" - David Bowie
Film: Se7en, 1995

A running segment throughout Celluloid Jukebox is "David Bowie Corner" where Kermode plays a song by Bowie that has been used in a film. It's partly a tribute to the musician following his death in January this year, but also quite clearly an excuse for a Bowie fan to play tracks from throughout his career. All the Bowie songs are excellent, most being selections from his back catalogue that are less often played, and "The Hearts Filthy Lesson", which plays over the end credits of David Fincher's Se7en, is a prime example of both. 




Episode 2
Track: "People Like Us" - Talking Heads featuring John Goodman
Film: True Stories, 1986

Each episode of Celluloid Jukebox has a loose theme which ties together several of the songs played by Kermode. The theme for the second episode is "actors singing in films", resulting in the inclusion of songs from films such as Lenny Abrahamson's Frank and the Coens' Inside Llewyn Davis. Perhaps most memorable, however, is John Goodman's excellent performance from True Stories, a 1986 directed by Talking Heads frontman David Byrne. It's a film I'd never even heard of before listening to the series, but it's now one that I'm planning to watch soon.




Episode 3
Track: "Them Kinda Monkeys Can't Swing" - Slade
Film: Slade In Flame, 1975

Kermode mentions Slade In Flame more than once in the series, liking it so much that he describes the film as "the Citizen Kane of British music movies". To many of my generation onwards, Slade are probably best known as that band who live off the royalties of Noddy Holder shouting "It's CHRIIIIISTMAAAAS!!" every twelve months, but to my parents' generation they were one of the most successful bands of the 1970s with a string of successful singles and albums. Slade In Flame is a film I've heard of but never seen; based on the soundtrack and Kermode's championing of it, I may have to seek this one out too. 




Episode 4
Track: "A Real Hero" - College & Electric Youth
Film: Drive, 2011

Even if Nicholas Winding Refn hasn't yet been able to replicate the success of Drive, it's a film that by its own merit deserves to go down as a modern classic. The soundtrack is one of the things that stayed with me the most after watching the film, and "A Real Hero" is one of the best tracks featured, so I was glad to hear Kermode give it some air time. 




Episode 5
Track: "Funnel Of Love" - SQÜRL & Madeline Follin
Film: Only Lovers Left Alive, 2013

One of the more distinct approaches Kermode adopts at a few points throughout Celluloid Jukebox is to segway two or more versions of a song into each other. It sometimes works better than at others, but it always proves an interesting experiment when he does it. One of the best examples is when three versions of "Funnel Of Love" are played: the original by Wanda Jackson; a remixed version of Jackson's original which slows the song right down; and the version by SQÜRL, featuring Madeline Follin on vocals and used in Jim Jarmusch's Only Lovers Left Alive, which grew out of the remix.




Episode 6
Track: Jaan Pehechan Ho - Mohammed Rafi
Film: Ghost World, 2001

Not a theme as such, but something that Kermode does throughout the series is to play music featured in a film which has then been reused in another. This track by Mohammed Rafi is originally from a 1965 Bollywood film, Gumnaam, but Kermode plays it due to its appearance in Terry Zwigoff's Ghost World. It's also a track which demonstrates just how diverse the music that Kermode plays throughout the series really is.




If this article has whetted your appetite for more, you can find my list of every song played in the series and the films they're taken from on Letterboxd here.

By Ben Broadribb. Ben is a regular contributor to Film Intel, having previously written at Some Like It Hot Fuzz. He is normally seen in the wild wearing t-shirts containing obscure film references. He is a geek, often unashamedly so. He's also on Google+ and Twitter.

Good Morning, Vietnam and Good Morning, Vietnam: Revisited: Two Depictions of One Story, One Conflict

The 30th April marks the 40th anniversary of the end of the US/Vietnam War and, partially in memory of the conflict, the BBC recently aired a radio programme entitled Good Morning, Vietnam: Revisited, during which the real life Adrian Cronauer (played in the film by Robin Williams) recounts his time in the country.

Cronauer is an interesting character. Depicted by Williams as a live-wire liberal, initially detached from the conflict but increasingly invested and disgusted by it, the real life Cronauer describes how he would not have 'got away with half of what Williams depicts'. At one point during the radio programme, Cronauer speaks of the protests against the war in the US as only muddying the waters, rather than presenting actual solutions. His Wikipedia entry claims he is 'a lifelong card-carrying Republican' who took active roles in Bob Dole's 1996 presidential campaign and George W. Bush's 2004 campaign. The IMDb trivia for the film goes as far as claiming he was 'a vice-chairman of the 2004 Bush-Cheney re-election campaign'.

As always, the above reveals the truth is stranger than the fiction. There is little doubt raised in either Good Morning, Vietnam however, nor the radio production, that Cronauer was appalled by elements of the war. This does not change the fact that both productions fail to dig deeper into his political background. His comments on the protest movement in the US during the 1960s are glossed over as briefly as possible. In the film, there's little doubt that Cronauer is an active rebel, willing to risk his job for his opinion.

This is, of course, to be expected. Cronauer quite rightly points out that the film is a fiction of an actual event, which took his popular show and turned it into a symbol of resistance. As such, director Barry Levinson and writer Mitch Markowitz need an alternative villain to the Viet Cong. It arrives in officious US Lieutenant Hauk (Bruno Kirby) and his superior Dickerson (J.T. Walsh), constantly at odds with Cronauer's ill-discipline and left-leaning views. The problem for the film is that Good Morning, Vietnam is very much a production from the US point of view, which means that the Viet Cong are still the enemy. Hauk might be a bit of a prick, but it is not he who blows up Jimmy Wah's bar. Levinson gets himself into a muddle here, and offers no closure to the story of Cronauer's relationship with Trinh (Chintara Sukapatana) or her Viet Cong brother Tuan (Tung Thanh Tran). Once the latter has been outed, the film ends and Cronauer leaves, aping the changing US policy in the region.

Though loved by some, I have always struggled a little bit with Good Morning, Vietnam's Comedy. The BBC programme makes the reason for this clear: Williams is performing radio improv, not screen improv. In audio-only mode, his falsetto voices are more distinct, dialogue clearer, jokes funnier. On screen, it just looks as though Levinson has given him licence to continue with what is only a vaguely humorous skit. The best moments appear scripted. 'What does three up, three down mean to you?', Dickerson asks him, referring to his stripes and his rank. 'End of an innings?', Cronauer replies. There is nothing as well timed or considered in the improvised sections.

Hindsight is of course a wonderful thing and Good Morning, Vietnam remains as a worthy monument to liberal attempts during the eighties to try to understand the war and sympathise with the Vietnamese. It's imperfection is merely a reflection of the fact that these attempts were themselves imperfect, mainly because their viewpoint was, and to a point continues to be, an attempt to understand the US side of the conflict. Paired with an internally uncertain personal subject, bravely liberated by Williams, it is little wonder that Good Morning, Vietnam is contextually fascinating, but muddily conceived and occasionally uncertain. In that way, perhaps it is, in fact, a reflection of its wider concerns.


Good Morning, Vietnam was playing on iTunes. Good Morning, Vietnam Revisited is available on BBC iPlayer Radio until Wednesday 13th May 2015.

By Sam Turner. Sam is editor of Film Intel, and can usually be found behind a keyboard with a cup of tea. He likes entertaining films and dislikes the other kind. He's on Google+, Twitter and several places even he doesn't yet know about.