Thirty–five years ago tomorrow, a film based on the Who's 1969 rock opera "Tommy" was released in the United States.
For most people, I suppose, that isn't too significant. I mean, there have been a lot of film musicals over the years (I have a particularly vivid memory of a Thanksgiving spent with my grandmother when I was a child and being forced — in my opinion, anyway — to watch the movie "Oklahoma!" that was televised that night because my grandmother liked it).
There were even movies that were based on rock operas before "Tommy" was made ("Godspell" and "Jesus Christ Superstar" come to mind). In that sense, it can't be said to have broken any new ground — although some purists might insist that "Tommy" was different.
And, although the film was a departure of sorts for the actors in the cast, it was hardly the debut film for Ann–Margret, Oliver Reed or Jack Nicholson. I suppose the cast was adequate — Ann–Margret was even nominated for a Best Actress Oscar — but I don't remember being particularly impressed. All three had been in movie musicals before, so none could be considered a novice. Nevertheless, it would be a mistake to assume that this kind of thing was their milieu.
Likewise, it may have been the first film for some of the musicians in the cast, but they must have been chosen for their popularity and/or musical talent (both, in some, but not all, cases), not for their acting. I don't think the film was the start of a new career in movies for any of them.
Even so, some of the performers — notably, Eric Clapton (singing "Eyesight to the Blind"), Tina Turner (performing "Acid Queen") and especially Elton John (playing "Pinball Wizard") — enjoyed commercial success with their contributions to the film's soundtrack.
(There is a certain irony, I guess, in the fact that the anniversary of the theatrical release of "Tommy," the story of a "deaf, dumb and blind kid," has been preceded by reports that Vatican officials, including the current pope, did not defrock a priest who molested as many as 200 deaf boys. That priest is now deceased, but lawsuits are pending.)
I bought the movie soundtrack after I saw the movie. I liked it — but I liked a girl in school even more and I made a cassette tape of my favorite songs from the soundtrack to play for her on a portable cassette recorder when we were hanging around on the school grounds when the day was over. I knew she liked "Pinball Wizard" so I played it for her a lot — even though I preferred "Eyesight to the Blind."
That is one of the bittersweet memories of my adolescence. I felt I was making some headway with that girl that spring, but she moved away from my hometown of Conway, Ark., after school dismissed for the summer. I don't think I saw her again.
I thought about her last year when I happened to stumble across "Tommy" on a cable channel. And that struck me as odd because she and I didn't see that movie together. We just listened to that Elton John recording — and some other songs from the film — together.
Things are different in my hometown today — I'm told it has nearly quadrupled in size since I was in high school, and I'm sure it has many options for moviegoers now — but when I was a teenager, there was one multiscreen theater in town (in this case, that means two screens), and it catered to the moneymakers. The theater's management didn't seem to think there was any money to be made from showing a musical — unless it was something on the order of "The Sound of Music."
To see such a movie in those days, one had to drive to the state capital of Little Rock. It wasn't far, only about 30 miles or so, but I wasn't old enough to have my driver's license and my parents wouldn't allow me to take the car to Little Rock on a Saturday afternoon (even though I was convinced I could do it with no problem, never even considered the possibility that I might get pulled over or, worse, be involved in an accident).
As it turned out, a friend of mine named Doug wanted to see it, but he wasn't old enough to have his license, either. So his mother graciously agreed to take us to Little Rock and see the film with us.
I don't remember when we saw it, but I guess it must have been sometime that spring, not long after it was released, because the place was packed. Doug spotted three empty seats on the front row — so we made our way to the front row, where we had to look straight up at the screen for nearly two hours while the state–of–the–art sound system shredded our hearing.
Well, Doug and I were young. We could handle it.
But, now that I'm older, I am filled with admiration for what his mother did that day. She was truly a good sport to escort us to the movie and sit through it with us.
