***/**** Image A- Sound A- Extras A-
directed by Andrew Horn
by Travis Mackenzie Hoover Though I'm only peripherally acquainted with the current '80s New Wave revival, it's hard for me not to see Klaus Nomi as singular even within its context. As Andrew Horn's documentary The Nomi Song points out, he was a professional among amateurs, a trained opera singer who put his then-unmarketable falsetto skills to use by crashing the goofy East Village art scene and becoming the very fusion of pop and high art that was only half-seriously proposed by its core scenesters. Sealing the deal of his act–an androgynous amalgam of Weimar cabaret, kabuki stylization, and assorted dada inflections–was an ethereal voice that indeed made him seem like the creature from another planet. Sad, then, to note that he not only wound up cheating collaborators integral to his initial fame, but also died of AIDS before he could make an end run on the mainstream like the one he did on the underground.
To be sure, The Nomi Song doesn't penetrate the image to find the motive. Despite a few intimations of his rock-hating German parentage, Nomi (formerly Klaus Sperber) remains a pop-art creation with connections to the real world that are sketchy at best–a mysterious approach that the star himself encouraged by shunning interviewers and letting his work do the talking. But here, his many friends and associates (including painter Kenny Scharf and performance artist-turned-actress Ann Magnuson) flesh out how that image was created, a combination of his own defiant myth-making and a group of collaborators committed to creating a stage show as individual as its centre. If it made Nomi the man opaque, the clips suggest that Nomi the flaming creature was special enough to inspire devotion from fans and co-conspirators alike.
The film then devotes itself to Nomi's almost-successful attempts to break out of the underground ghetto. While New York proved the right freak-launchpad for his show, there were signs that the rest of America wasn't ready: bandmates recall a disastrous New Jersey gig that found him playing to blue-collar Springsteen fans in opening for Twisted Sister. Still, he attracted a mad local fanbase, which in turn attracted the label interest that tore his group apart: a poor and fame-hungry Nomi happily chucked recalcitrant partners when offered an album, resulting in a ridiculous stage video that had his sharp expressionist angles surrounded by shaggy stadium rockers. He then landed in Europe, where he was on the brink of international stardom until the very new nightmare of AIDS cut short his attempts to be unforgettable to a mass audience.
Sadly, The Nomi Song barely asks questions about the kind of people who would so invent themselves as to suppress their identity completely. And as often as not, the film's attempts to recreate the lo-fi, chroma-key aesthetics of early music video collapse in cutesiness, as in the irritating moments in which an audio-only interview with Nomi's Aunt Trude is visually represented by a cut-out diorama. But Horn is as in-awe of Nomi's legacy as the interview subjects (who remain loyal to Nomi despite his shabby treatment of them), and the film is genuinely moving in detailing Nomi's succumbing to AIDS, during which time virtually everyone he knew avoided him out of fear and denial. Whether specialists will find The Nomi Song any kind of news is debatable, but for novices like me, it's enough to inspire you to seek out the back catalogue and stare at the magnificent weirdo on the covers.
THE DVD
Palm presents The Nomi Song on DVD in a 1.77:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer. The DV segments are very sharp and well-saturated, but some of the tape-based archival footage is on the fuzzy side–though as Horn points out in his commentary, prior to new innovations in enhancement technology, things could have looked much worse. The Dolby 2.0 surround sound is similarly adequate, perhaps not as sharp as it is round.
Newbies to the Nomi cult will be pleased to discover a mountain of (admittedly variable) extras–all of which have been enhanced for widescreen displays–to contemplate. The breakdown:
Commentary by director Andrew Horn
Largely uninterested in the mundane anecdotes that clutter most commentaries, Horn surprises completely by cutting a yakker that's actually worth a damn, wrapped up as he is in issues both thematic and aesthetic. Horn was an associate of Nomi's, and his unironic love of his subject comes through in every line. He also has interesting information about the improvements in digital refurbishment, important for documentarians plagued by the problems of deteriorated early video.
New York Premiere Party(13 mins.)
Horn and a Palm Pictures representative preside over the film's New York premiere party. There are surprises neither here nor in the after-party footage, in which hyper, bleached-blonde Richard Barone interviews various participants and hangers-on about the subject of the film.
Full Length Performances
The real jewel in the supplemental crown, these will keep new fans sated amid searching out the old albums. "After the Fall" (4 mins.) is the best of these, featuring our hero in Elizabethan drag accompanied by a pair of enthusiastic dancers; it's not the most avant-garde song, but it's super-upbeat and big, big fun. "Cold Song" (5 mins.) is a more serious tune furnished with full symphony backing (with Nomi wearing the same outfit as in "After the Fall"); alas, the lyrics are slightly inaudible as the singer enunciates every syllable. Last if not least, "Adrian and the Mutant Dance" (3 mins.) doesn't really involve Nomi, but rather a dancer from one of his shows doing a remarkable bare-chested 'robot' that suggests David Bowie crossed with Billy Idol.
Remixes
Perhaps the most needless of the extras, this has executive producer Barone presiding over new versions of "Total Eclipse" and "Mon Coeur." The former first gets decked out with new synth, gong, and assorted other sound effects by Barone himself, with kid-spoken bookends completing this Atomic Party Mix (3 mins.). Next comes the Man Parrish mix (8 mins.), which is more ethereal and boasts faster drumming. The "L.H.O.O.Q." mix (5 mins.) by I LOVE YOU (featuring Ana Matronic of the Scissor Sisters) subjects the second tune to a heavy house beat and layered vocals, while the Moog Cookbook mix (4 mins.) achieves a distinctly retro sound by employing Moog synthesizers, natch. Only the final track does Nomi justice; call me a purist, but the other three cuts use him to push whatever club agenda is popular at the moment.
Deleted Scenes
In "Michael Halsband and Klaus' Last Photo Shoot" (4 mins.), the titiular photographer describes a heartbreaking attempt to photograph Nomi in his last days. Meanwhile, "Aunt Trude's Slide Show" sees the only relative Horn managed to get on camera giving running commentary in German for a set of childhood photos. Halsband provides a devastatingly sad record of the early days of AIDS paranoia, but the slide show is slightly superficial.
Additional Footage
A crash course in Nomi and the late-'70s/early-'80s East Village scene in the form of twelve segments of extraneous footage, this is where novices really earn their merit badges. Things kick off with a three-part discussion by NY ROCKER's Andy Schwartz on the film's subject and the meaning and purpose of the New Wave; while I suspect it will be old news for anyone with an ounce of musical knowledge, it should suit the greenhorn just fine. More on the topic is contained in a couple of segments on the Village, such as a slideshow of the director's period snapshots. Following suit are talking-heads with Nomi collaborators Man Parrish, Kristian Hoffmann, and Page Wood, the latter two delivering much-needed background on what and who influenced the Nomi experience. Pamela Rosenthal and Pat Keck put a face on the fans, the former reading fan mail for our benefit and Keck showing off her scarily elaborate Nomi resurrection sculpture. In addition, Lou Christie offers a stunned impression of Nomi and his version of Christie's "Lightning Strikes."
Rounding out the exhaustive package: weblinks; an Easter egg containing Nomi's recipe for lime tart; and trailers for this film as well as Gunner Palace.
96 minutes; NR; 1.77:1 (16×9-enhanced); English Dolby Surround; DVD-9; Region One; Palm
