Category Archives: San Francisco

Interview with Director Richard Linklater on his new film “Bernie”

“Bernie”, which hits theatres today, made its premiere at the San Francisco International Film Festival April, where I caught up with Director Richard Linklater during his visit. Though he had a full and rigorous day of interviews scheduled, Linklater remained laid back, friendly, and open, sporting a Criterion collection t-shirt and jeans. Although he is most loved for his early Gen X films like “Dazed and Confused” and “Slacker” and even more so for his heady, intellectual films, like “Before Sunrise”, “Waking Life”, and “Before Sunset”, Linklater has lately been making more mainstream-targeted films and “Bernie” is no exception.

“Bernie” tells the true story of Bernie Tiede, a mortician in Carthage, Texas, who murdered the meanest lady in town, Marjorie, and nearly got away with it. Linklater got interested in Bernie’s story way back when his trial for murder was happening. “This was a magazine article I read and kind of pursued and attended the trial. The magazine article ended inconclusively… you think Bernie is going to get off kind of lightly, that’s where I got on the bandwagon, and I went to the trial.”

Linklater co-wrote the film with journalist Skip Hollandsworth who wrote the original magazine article about Bernie’s trial. He explains that “everything really happened. There are really no elements of the movie that are fictitious. It was like a journalistic piece. We really stuck to the public record and we were going off a really thick file from the trial, evidence, and interviews”.

As an East Texas native, Linklater says he “has a lot of affection for these people. I’m a homeboy. These are my people. Southerners are sensitive to being portrayed in the national media as a bunch of backwards thinking rednecks, which they certainly are, but what they always miss is the humanity and the friendliness. There’s a really wonderful side to it that’s often not part of the equation when they’re portrayed. When I was making the film, I was trying to assure people that, you know, I’m from here. I will portray it how I will but I get it. This is a film from the land time forgot. It feels like a period film even though Bernie has an iPhone but it could be the 1970s. It’s one of those regions that’s solidly behind the rest of the world in a lot of ways.”

Although the film is very funny, Linklater insists it’s not a satire: the humour comes from “the irony of it all”.  Linklater explains that “It’s a weird contradiction. Here’s a law and order town in Texas and Texas is a pretty tough place, with a huge prison population. It’s like guilty, throw away the key kind of thing. But in this case they didn’t want this guy prosecuted because they liked him. There’s something kind of human about that.”

“Bernie” is a mockumentary, full of interviews with town gossips. “Oh almost all those people in the kind of southern gossip circle chorus, the majority of those are from Carthage or that area, little towns around there. There were a few professional actors but mostly they were non-actors, people I found funny or interesting. I mean the test was here’s all these interesting people and then I gave them lines.  Some people were struggling to memorize the lines but others were really internalizing them and so we thought ‘OK you can be maybe effective in the movie.’ ”

Interestingly, none of the lines for the gossip circle were written with any particular character in mind, and that’s generally how Linklater works for ensemble pieces, from “Dazed and Confused” to “Bernie”. He says, “I really just had all those lines written and then I knew it would be personalized to the cast. It was like here you have the text but then lines would be assigned after casting. It’s what I’ve always done with ensembles. I get the same note on every script for an ensemble piece: ‘they [the characters] all kind of sound the same’. But you cast really unique people with really unique characteristics and it will be differentiated on film. You have to cast your ensemble very carefully for different personalities. If two are too similar, maybe that’s not a good idea. It’s like an orchestra. So that’s the fun part really: finding the personality. Because to me, in movie making, that’s the magical moment where this lines, this text, meet the person, the actor. The lines manifest themselves through the actor’s personality, quirks, and characteristics.”

When asked how he came up with the aesthetic for the film, Linklater mused that “you feel your way through the story and the locations show you how to shoot it. You have to keep thinking of the pace and the editing, too. I certainly didn’t want these interviews to be handheld or have that loose documentary feel. It was much more formal. Because I wanted the whole tone for the movie to be about Bernie: you know, his view of the world and the world’s view of him, which is pretty proper, pretty formal. He’s a very mannered southern gentlemen kind of guy and even in the issues of his sexuality, the film is ambiguous the way he is. I wanted the film to feel kind of formal, not too rough around the edges. I often do that on a movie. I remember shooting “Dazed and Confused” in the 1990s and thinking ‘If I had had the filmmaking skills that I have now in my early 30s, as a 17-year-old, what would I think would be cool? How would I shoot the movie? I try to go back into the character’s mind and try to adapt the look to the characters”.

And finally, the doorknob question: will we be seeing Jesse and Celine from “Before Sunrise” and “Before Sunset” again? So from the horse’s mouth: “Who knows!? It has been about the same amount of time as between the previous two films. Julie and Ethan are now in their early 40s: life piles up and things change. It’s in the air a bit but nothing’s set. It certainly would be fun to work with them again. We don’t want to just do it unless we really have something to express, especially as time goes by. But I kind of feel like we’re getting there, actually.”

 A shortened version of this article was published in the Stanford Daily here.

“The Love Song of R. Buckminster Fuller” at SFIFF

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One of the most exciting and avant garde events at the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFIFF) this year was the live documentary presentation of Director Sam Green’s “The Love Song for R. Buckminster Fuller”. It screened twice at the SFMOMA on May 1st, a presentation facilitated in tandem with the SFMOMA and its current exhibit on Buckminster Fuller in the Bay Area.  Sam Green was present to provide live voice-over commentary for the film and indie rock band Yo La Tengo performed their film score live. In this setting, the film became a hybrid of cinema and theatre, where the images on screen were more like a visual aid to a live performance than a standalone piece.Buckminster Fuller was the quintessential renaissance man: a designer, thinker, architect, innovator, writer, and lecturer, decades ahead of his time. Although perhaps most widely known for his thick black glasses and geodesic domes, Fuller’s legacy extends far beyond that. He was a strong proponent of big picture thinking and was in many ways a champion of design thinking. Although some of his ideas can be easily dismissed as far-fetched, the point wasn’t always to build everything he proposed but to expand people’s horizons on how they think about the world and making things work.As we learn in the film, Fuller kept an archive of all of his activities – including every receipt, every memo, and every television appearance – in what is now known as the Dymaxion Chronofile. It is the most extensive archive of any single person’s activities, owned by and housed at Stanford University’s libraries, and was the primary source material for the film and the exhibit. There are excerpts in the film of Buckminster Fuller meeting the hippies on hippie hill in Golden Gate Park as well as some of his television appearances. The film is essentially a montage of photographs and archival footage of Fuller and his work with a few present-day interviews with scholars of the Chronofile. Green did not interview anyone for his documentary that actually knew or worked with Fuller personally, despite the fact that many of them are still alive and active.

The problem with both the SFMOMA exhibit and Green’s film is that by choosing to focus on Fuller in the Bay Area, they have also chosen to ignore the greater context of his work. Without this context, it becomes far too easy to dismiss him and some of his far-fetched ideas as the products of a crackpot rather than an innovator trying to challenge the status quo.

Because, for example, the World Games workshops Fuller ran – where motivated people came together to hear him speak, get inspired, and worked to solve the world’s biggest problems from food security to sustainable development – weren’t in the Bay Area, they are altogether ignored. Because Fuller’s concept of “Spaceship Earth”, a place that we all have to share, with limited resources that we need to preserve, was not a Bay Area specific idea, it too is ignored. Yet these are two of Fuller’s key legacies and proof that he was a leading edge thinker.

The reference to T.S. Eliot’s “Love Song for J. Alfred Prufrock”, a poem about a lovable but pathetic man, in the film’s title is no coincidence. It’s sadly an apt metaphor for Green’s view of Fuller: it’s affectionate but somewhat unimpressed. Perhaps the film would have done better to draw its inspiration from the Beatles’ song r “Fool on the Hill”, a much less ignorantly critical ode to Fuller without ignoring his controversial idiosyncrasies.

A shortened version of this article was published in the Stanford Daily here.

SFIFF: Centerpiece showing

On April 30, the San Francisco Film Festival held its majorCenterpiece screening of Lynn Shelton’s “Your Sister’s Sister,” starring Emily Blunt, Rosemarie DeWitt and Mark Duplass. The Centerpiece screening is, unsurprisingly, held right in the middle of the festival and showcases a promising new independent film. Past Centerpiece screenings include “Happythankyoumoreplease,” “500 Days of Summer” and “Terri.”

“Your Sister’s Sister” screened in one of the biggest festival venues: the largest cinema of the Sundance Kabuki. It played to a full house that was treated to a substantial Q&A with DeWitt after the screening. Many attendees also ventured to the Centerpiece party down the street afterwards.

Read the full story at the Stanford Daily

SFIFF: Branagh by the Bay

Every year, the San Francisco International Film Festival chooses a great director to honour with the Founder’s Directing Award and this year that honour was bestowed upon the great actor-director Kenneth Branagh. He is in good company. Past winners include Clint Eastwood, Akira Kurosawa, Werner Herzog, and Mike Leigh. Branagh came to SF this week for the festival to accept the award and to participate in a special “on stage” event at the Castro Theatre on Friday with a screening of his second film, “Dead Again”.

Kenneth Branagh has often been called the next Laurence Olivier, in praise of his fantastic film adaptations of Shakespeare’s plays, both as a director and an actor. When he was just twenty-eight, he made his directorial debut with “Henry V”, in which he also played the title role and was nominated for both Best Actor and Best Director Academy Awards. In his interview on Friday, he revealed that he was actually in San Francisco when “Henry V” was beginning to get significant critical acclaim and cited reading the glowing New York Times review of it while here as a life-changing moment. His brilliant “Much Ado About Nothing” is a masterpiece and the definitive version of the play; he playing Benedick to Emma Thomson’s Beatrice, alongside an impressive supporting cast including Denzel Washington and Kate Beckinsale.

In 1996, Branagh, not Sir Branagh – he declined the offer of knighthood – filmed a full-length rendition of “Hamlet”, in which he also played the title role quite brilliantly, alongside Kate Winslet’s Ophelia. When he found out that he had been nominated for the Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar for “Hamlet”, he thought it was some kind of cruel joke. Yes, he had radically interpreted the play as a director but he had kept the entire script intact. Eventually, he and a writer friend concluded that this was really a nomination for Mr William Shakespeare, 400 years late, and a nod of approval from other writers for leaving Shakespeare’s play alone.

Although his adaptations of the bard’s “Love’s Labour Lost” as a Hollywood musical and “As You Like It”, were both flops and failures, as Branagh puts it, only the great can fail spectacularly. The good can be good all the time without ever being terrible or great. But you have to take risks to be great.

His oeuvre is not, however, limited to Shakespeare. He successfully dallied in noir with “Dead Again”, made a film of “Frankenstein”, remade “Sleuth” with a script by Harold Pinter, and most recently tanked with “Thor”. It’s also a little known fact that his film “Peter’s Friends”, which starred his real-life friends Hugh Laurie, Stephen Fry, Imelda Staunton and then-wife Emma Thompson, was the first time Hugh Laurie’s singing and piano playing were captured on film for the big screen.

The evening opened with an interview with Branagh by CalShakes artistic director Jonathan Moscone. Branagh was, of course, charming, witty, and incredibly articulate and humble. When the floor was opened up for audience questions, there was a general well-deserved outpouring of gratitude for Branagh’s work to make Shakespeare accessible to the masses, and yet he still remained sincerely humble. We were reminded of his beginnings as a boy from a working-class family in Northern Ireland, who moved to England at age nine, where he adopted an English accent as a means to ensure he was understood and fend off bullies.

As a young actor and director, he was known to mouth off a fair bit about ‘wankers’ who claimed what Shakespeare was or how Shakespeare should be performed. He had the misfortune of having some of these youthful phrases, now circulating on the internet, quoted back to him, like “I’m just a foul-mouthed Brit”.

Branagh and Moscone got into some very exciting in-depth discussion about his directorial choices for his Shakespearean films. He chose to set “Hamlet” in bright, expansive spaces, because after performing the play multiple times, he felt that these sets were just as arguably appropriate as the gloomy environs “Hamlet” is so often confined to. It was also done to help draw attention to the fact that there were many joyous happenings in Elsinore from, his mother’s happy new marriage to Claudius’s competent ruling of the country, and that Hamlet’s gloominess was very much a character trait. Of course, Branagh humorously summarizes the play as basically being about how the map of Europe could change just because a man couldn’t have a proper conversation alone with his mother after his father’s death. He does, of course, acknowledge that it’s brilliant in many ways.

They also discussed the iconic opening scene of “Henry V” when Derek Jacobi speaks his soliloquy while walking through the backstage of a film studio, and upon finishing, opens a door, revealing a small sliver of light, and the play begins. While earlier adaptations of “Henry V”, like Olivier’s, favoured a romantic interpretation, Branagh aimed to look at the play as being about what happens in hushed conversations behind closed doors. The frequent use of close-ups in the film, he said, was part of setting up this idea.

After the interview and a brief intermission, the audience was treated to a screening of “Dead Again”, in which he also stars alongside Emma Thompson. “Dead Again” is an impressively crafted film which embraces and even acknowledges and mocks all the conventions of film noir and puts them in a modern setting. When Mike Church (Kenneth Branagh) is called into the orphanage where he grew up to help Grace, a woman who has lost her memory (Emma Thompson), everything starts to get screwy for him. Through a series of hilarious events, they wind up visiting a quirky hypnotist who helps Grace regain some memories. But her memories are not from the recent past but rather involve a married couple from the 1940s that look exactly like our heroes but are, in fact, Margaret and Roman Strauss, famous for the fact that Roman was sentenced to death for Margaret’s murder.

Of course, it’s absurd and we have to suspend our disbelief just as much as our heroes do. Here is where the film gets very, very clever. Branagh lays on the noir thick from the suspicious camera angles to the genre-like dialogue, and Mike’s own disbelief about all the events happening to him. And it is very, very funny, both from one-liners and the intended irony of the situations. Branagh manages to build up so much suspense, so much dramatic tension, and so much enthralling action, with earned plot twist after earned plot twist, that by the end, you actually have to catch your breath. The suspense is really heightened when watching this on the big screen with big sound because it’s completely absorbing. Here Branagh proves that he’s not just a master at putting theatre on film but in filmmaking itself, mastering film noir just as deftly as he did Shakespeare.

It has now been a few years since Branagh has brought a Shakespeare play to the big screen, though other Shakespearean adaptations have been made, from Julie Taymor’s “The Tempest” to Ralph Fiennes’s “Coriolanus”. When asked if Branagh will be returning to Shakespeare again soon he said he has plans to make a film of a play whose name cannot be uttered in the current venue. “The Scottish Play”, that is. And after a few more comments about superstition he asked us if he had made himself absolutely clear yet. The unnamed play is, of course, “Macbeth”. He also stated that he would like to make another noir film set in San Francisco, a city so rich with film noir history.

SFIFF: A Cinephile’s Delight

The San Francisco International Film Festival kicked off last Thursday, and the crowds haven’t waned since. The main festival headquarters in Japantown at the Sundance Kabuki Cinemas and the San Francisco Film Society Cinema are full of excited cinephiles young and old, there to take in films from all around the world the way they were meant to be seen: on the big screen, with beautiful, crisp, clean, digital projection.

Among the weekend’s most popular films were Norway’s “Oslo, August 31st” (reviewed in a previous Intermission) and Italy’s “Terraforma,” which had a series of sold-out screenings and eager, last-minute planners in the rush lines. Don’t despair if you missed them, though, as they are both scheduled for theatrical releases this year.

If you haven’t had a chance to catch a film at the fest yet, there is still plenty of time, as the festival runs until May 3. Between now and then, you can see Kenneth Branagh up close at the Castro tonight, where he will receive a directing award and screen his early film “Dead Again,” or catch Yo La Tengo doing a live score at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art for the documentary “The Love Song for R. Buckminster Fuller” on Tuesday (come early to make the Rush line). In the meantime, here is a taste of films that have already screened and will be screening at the festival in the coming week.

“Back to Stay”
This first feature by Argentinean filmmaker Milagros Mumenthaler is an astute and observant film set in Buenos Aires, following three college-age sisters coming to terms with their grandmother’s recent death. The film takes place almost entirely in the house where they live, which they inherited. It’s a film about the secrets the sisters keep, the alliances that form within a family, the comfort of sisters and the effect of the space in which they live. We discover that many parts of the house were off limits when their grandmother was alive, and we watch as the girls explore these foreign spaces in a home with which they feel less and less connected.

Mumenthaler lingers on each of the girls for takes that span minutes, letting the wonderfully nuanced performances really shine as we see the signs of insecurities, love and grief; these are especially pronounced in the few scenes when all three sisters are on camera in a single shot, allowing us to see both the private and communal moments they share together and how they trespass on each other’s privacy. At the center of the film is the eldest sister, Marina, the most down-to-earth one: shy, intelligent, compassionate and insecure about many things, including her body. We watch as she copes with her sister Sofia’s secrecy and betrayals, and as she looks on both disapprovingly and enviously as Sofia uses sex to earn attention; there is so much that is unsaid between these two. “Back to Stay” is, in a sense, a coming-of-age story as Marina gains confidence and deals with her grief, and we learn that her sisters aren’t as put-together as she may have originally believed. There isn’t much plot so much as a series of uneventful scenes in which immense amounts of information about the complexities of the characters are beautifully revealed. It’s best seen on a big screen where you can get immersed in the rhythm of the film and the spaces the characters inhabit, and it’s one of the best films at SFIFF.

Read the full review at the Stanford Daily here

Review: The Aliens

The production design at the SF Playhouse has been consistently remarkable this year, and “The Aliens” is no exception. The intimate space, where every facial expression is visible to the entire audience, proves the perfect venue for this slice-of-life play in which nothing really happens and yet every detail gains significance as the play unfolds.

Bill English’s set is beautifully detailed and creates a backyard hangout, with a picnic bench center stage, garbage bins on the right and a building at the back, complete with a porch, a screen door and even a hot water heater on the building’s side. Since the space is small, every aspect is up for scrutiny, and the intimate space puts us right in the backyard with the characters. Michael Palumbo’s lighting is equally effective, effortlessly alerting us to the time of day, whether it’s the warm July sun or the cool summer moonlight.

When the play opens, it’s a calm, sunny summer afternoon. Jasper (Peter O’Connor) and KJ (Haynes Thigpen) are relaxing on the picnic bench outside. We will eventually learn that they aren’t in their own backyard, but actually trespassing on a restaurant. They aren’t looking at or talking to one another, but it’s perfectly relaxed and natural. It’s also silent for minutes, allowing us to adapt to the pace and the rhythm of the play. They eventually start to speak, though not really about anything, before they are ultimately interrupted by Evan (Brian Miskell), the sixteen-year-old who has just started working at the restaurant where they are.

Read the full review at the Stanford Daily here

SF International Film Festival: Three Picks

Oslo, August 31st

Joachim Trier’s melancholic ode to urban life and the city of Oslo, “Oslo, August 31st” is one of the very best films of the last year and a must-see. The film centers around the charming Anders (Anders Danielsen Lie), a former drug dealer and addict, who gets a one-day leave from rehab to return to the city for a job interview and to make a few personal stops. Over the course of the day in Oslo, he journeys to his favorite haunts, seeing friends of present and former days and tying up loose ends. It’s a celebration of all the things the city has to offer and how even a neighborhood can have its own memories and cast.

As a drug dealer, Anders, of course, knew everyone. Trier carefully shows us how Anders’s relationships have developed, and, in so doing, the film becomes an exploration of growing up from carefree twenty-somethings to more responsible thirty-year-olds. “Oslo, August 31st” is a dialogue-heavy film about smart people, so the conversations are interesting, real and resonant. If you’ve ever lived in and loved a city, “Oslo” will movingly touch on familiar themes, friendships and feelings.

Read full review at the Stanford Daily here (note: I did not write the pre-amble)

The Caretaker

Harold Pinter’s plays have their charms, but they aren’t for everyone. They have a tendency to be abstruse and dialogue-heavy but place a lot of emphasis on what isn’t said, sometimes referred to as the “Pinter pause.” The San Francisco Shorenstein Hays Nederlander (SHN) production of Pinter’s first commercial success, “The Caretaker,” is no exception: it’s a faithful adaptation that will be sure to please Pinter fans but may be inaccessible to the casual viewer.

As “The Caretaker” opens, Aston (Alan Cox), the resident of the flat, brings home Davies (Jonathan Pryce), a hoary vagrant, after rescuing him from a bar fight. Aston offers to share his flat with Davies while he gets back up on his feet. Eventually, we meet Aston’s younger brother, Mick, who owns the building and the flat. Here, the two brothers both offer Davies employment as the caretaker of the building, inciting Davies to ingratiate himself with each, shifting his alliances throughout the play for strategic gain.

Read the rest of the story at the Stanford Daily

“Scorched” lights a fire under SF

Scorched” creeps up on you slowly, and before you know it, you find yourself simultaneously terrified, engrossed, impassioned and queasy. The play finds a jarring start in an elaborate set that doesn’t seem to belong in any particular place, where Simon (Babak Tafti) and Janine (Annie Purcell) make an uncomfortable visit to the notary Alphonse (David Strathairn, “Good Night and Good Luck”) to hear their mother’s will. The pair stands still for seemingly unending minutes while Alphonse, in an almost authentic Québécois accent, tries desperately to lighten the mood with desultory conversation and malapropisms. It’s disorienting, but this makes sense—losing a parent is just that—and it’s a subtle beginning to a complex build-up of stories.

The pair’s mother, Nawal, has stipulated in her will that her children must each perform Herculean tasks of delivering letters to unknown relatives in her home country. Simon must track down their father; Janine must track down their older brother. Once complete, they can engrave her name on her tombstone and receive an all-important last letter from her to them, perhaps with an explanation of why she didn’t speak a word in the five years leading up to her death.

Nawal was a Canadian immigrant from an unnamed Middle Eastern country, and her children have written her off as an anachronistic, out of touch, unloving and crazy. As we get glimpses of her past, we see how visceral and immediate their mother’s life was.

Her children are a stark contrast to her. Simon is a boxer, uninterested in family history or woes, concerned only about the advancement of his own career; Janine is a cold mathematician. The contrast is important: it’s the difference between the luxury of the West, the wars in the Middle East and the difference between the new and old generations. So we can forgive the playwright Wajdi Mouawad for the ridiculous mathematics talk, which reduces Janine to someone only capable of thinking in alienating mathematical metaphors—graph theory is haphazardly thrown in to little effect—and is insulting to any intellectual in the sciences with an aptitude for social interaction.

Their mission sends them off on a long trek trying to unravel the mystery of who and where their father and brother are. In the process, they uncover their mother’s history: her life in the war-torn Middle East, her ascent from poverty and despair, her revolutionary ideas and the horrors she faced because of them.

It’s a play about methodically retracing steps. We watch stories—all related to their mother’s—from years past unfold on stage alongside the current journey of our characters. Janine and Simon retread their mother’s path: visiting relevant places and retelling her story. We watch Simon and Janine retread the same ground physically, and in so doing, revise their own notion of history and of their own story. Director Carey Perloff’s blocking is deliberate, meticulous and so natural that you can easily miss all the meaning contained therein.

The set is beautifully designed by Scott Bradley to be an abstract piece: evoking all kinds of emotions and seamlessly doubling for contradictory places. It works just as well as a peaceful Canadian city, a quaint small Middle-Eastern town and the streets of a war-torn nation. As the play progresses, the audience is forced to revise their notion of what the set represents and what it means to be in different parts of the stage. There are obstacles across the set—rocks, trellises, etc.—to help create the illusion of trekking as the characters weave between them.

The journey takes on a mythic quality, like something out of Greek tragedy. The pair meets a wizened, wise old man (Apollo Dukakis) who talks about people with monikers like “The Woman Who Sings.” The same actor plays Nawal’s aged grandmother, whose invaluable love and advice set the course for her life’s journey. The children and their mother work towards achieving catharsis, every event taking on new meaning as the story unravels. And we have Alphonse, the fool and the Westerner prattling on at intervals to lighten the mood and provide comic relief, which also becomes increasingly meaningful.

“Scorched” is so rich in themes, characters and plot threads that you can imagine people dubbing the play as representative of “life” itself. It’s about the stories we tell and the ones we can’t; about family, connection and disconnection; about the futility of war and the impossibility of fighting it; about love; about finding your place within the world and between cultures that often times clash. Wajdi Mouawad’s play is ambitious but unassuming. It’s been translated from the French “Incendies” (which was also made into an Academy-Award-winning film), and no meaning was lost in the process. “Scorched” is the kind of play that will change on you with repeat viewings because there’s so much information you could keep unpacking—thanks to the script, the nuanced acting, the thoughtful blocking and the wonderful set design.

This review was originally published in the Stanford Daily here.

Dave Holland Overtone Quartet jazzes up SF

It goes without saying that when a concert involves bassist Dave Holland and saxophonist Chris Potter—in collaboration—it’s going to be good. Holland’s rhapsodic syncopated bass lines and Potter’s counterpoint cerebral, dissonant, rich sax are at their best live and always sound amazing, no matter who the two are playing with.

They’ve both played with their fair share of masters: Holland with Miles Davis and Potter recently with Herbie Hancock and McCoy Tyner. These two are born performers, completely brilliant and enthralling on stage; despite owning all of their albums, I rarely listen to them at home but never miss their concerts. Yet what makes these two real performers is not just their inventiveness but also their knack for togetherness.

Holland and Potter have been playing together in the Dave Holland Quintet for years, and it shows; they are remarkably in sync. Holland knows how to lead a band to collaborate, to build off one another, to keep adding layers of rhythm and harmony step by step. I’ve seen Potter do the same when he leads his Underground band. While most jazz groups play next to one another—alternating turns in solos and melodies—Holland and Potter are all about playing together, with and against each other and other players.

In short, these two are masters. It’s because of these incredibly high standards that last Friday’s sold-out Dave Holland Overtone Quartet concert at the Palace of the Fine Arts was a disappointment. It was still a great night of jazz, but it was missing their trademark cohesiveness.

The group played all original pieces by each of the band members. They started out with Potter’s “The Outsiders,” which established the basic form and rules of the group. The modus operandi was for the two to build on one another by synchronizing completely in a melodic or rhythmic element, then diverging to eventually create four separate parts—interdependent melodically—but each moving and developing independently.

The result was four layers of sound. As the saxophonist, Potter’s layer had the greatest clarity; Holland’s was equally lucid when audible, but the poor acoustics of the hall tended to drown out much of his work. Though he is a talented pianist, Jason Moran’s playing sounded muddy in the quarter; he was best showcased in his own compositions, like “Gummy Moon,” which emphasizes what the piano can offer. Eric Harland, on drums, sidestepped the normal errors of the percussion section: he didn’t bang but worked meticulously to play with pitch, volume, silences and rhythm. Unfortunately, his commitment to complex rhythms more often than not resulted in chaotic rhythms.

Things picked up with opportunities to showcase Holland and Potter in extended solos in Holland’s “Walkin’ the Walk” and Eric Harland’s “Treachery.” Harland’s “Patterns” was an exercise in repetition: while Potter looped through the same few bars, each of the others slowly built up additional layers of sound with their own internal repetitive logic. It could have been stagnant but it was dynamic, with a real sense of forward motion.

Harland is no Nate Smith, the drummer in both the Dave Holland Quintet—another group of Holland’s—and Chris Potter’s Underground. Smith has proven himself to be the Jack DeJohnette of our generation: he builds harmonies and uses others’ rhythms to develop a scintillating base rhythm, which all other parts play off of and complement. His drumming has been the glue that holds these two groups together because it adds to advancements in rhythmic complexities and points us in the direction that the music is developing. Harland doesn’t take advantage of silences enough to do this, which means that while he can play off one or two of the parts successfully—and he did so beautifully in Holland’s “Veil of Tears”—his playing doesn’t tie everyone together in a singular, cohesive unit.

What we have, at best, are two players who completely integrate and mesh; we can even have two sets of two. But never did the four consistently develop each other’s work. Don’t get me wrong—this still leads to some great music. It just highlights the inherent dissonance in the kind of music they play, and it doesn’t showcase what these performers and bandleaders can galvanize on stage.

The two-hour, intermission-free concert of the Dave Holland Overtone Quartet was met with a warm and well-deserved standing ovation. These are still some of the best musicians in the world. But when you hold them to their own high standards, they could have done better. The space certainly didn’t help; dampened sound, an over-large stage and a very wide auditorium all created awkward distance between the audience and performers, which made it more difficult to engage. Nevertheless, the SF Jazz Festival Spring Season is starting off with a bang, and there’s much more great music to come, from the Brad Mehldau Trio to Gonzalo Rubalcalba.

This review was originally published in a revised form in the Stanford Daily here.