-By Maria Garcia
Harlem Aria is a New York fable—about race and class, and a
28-year-old black man named Anton (Gabriel Casseus). A Harlem
laundry worker, Anton is “slow” and child-like, and has lived with
his aunt for most of his life. His secret ambition is to become a
famous tenor.
Each night, Anton practices with the recordings of famous arias,
but after he’s taunted by neighborhood boys for his sublime
rendition of
Pagliacci’s “Vesti la giubba,” he decides to
run away from home. He sets out for Italy to learn opera, and to
find his hero, tenor Fabiano Grazzi (Paul Sorvino). Dressed in an
expensive tuxedo, Anton soon becomes the victim of a street hustler
who swindles him out of the $183 that was to pay for his plane
ticket.
Harlem Aria premiered at the 1999 Toronto Film Festival,
received a smattering of openings abroad, and then was shelved
after Viacom bought out the film’s domestic distributor.
Writer-director William Jennings went on to become the head of a
documentary program at Hofstra University and, like his
protagonist, clung to his vision of himself as an artist. In his
screenplay, Jennings obviously draws from his own experience in
dramatizing the dilemmas that confront talented black men. And
Anton’s aspirations are unusual—opera is, overwhelmingly, white. As
the solitary man of color, even if he is a success, Anton will
become an object of curiosity, held up by blacks as an example of
achievement, and by whites as proof that racial differences do not
exist. Other blacks will assess his “blackness,” and whites will
measure his ability to “fit in.”
Anton eventually befriends Wes (Damon Wayans), the thief who stole
his money, despite Wes’ needling that he’s not black enough, and
that he prefers the company of Matthew (Christian Camargo), a white
concert pianist and a victim of his own success. Matthew offers
Anton a spot in his “street performances” in Washington Square
Park. Both men exploit Anton by making money from his spirited,
crowd-pleasing arias.
Matthew, whose girlfriend Julia (Kristen Wilson) is a
world-renowned diva, has the means to help Anton but he doesn’t,
and Wes continually points out Matthew’s racist attitudes in order
to garner favor with Anton. The banter between Matthew and Wes,
sometimes comic, sometimes biting, dramatizes Anton’s predicament,
but also the lot of any successful artist in a society divided by
class and race.
While Jennings has a gift for dialogue, the plot of
Harlem
Aria is uneven. How Anton made it from Harlem to Greenwich
Village isn’t explained and, in order to keep his guy-flick
perspective, Jennings pushes the women too far into the background.
This presents a problem when Julia, absent for half the movie,
arrives from a European tour.
Black men do not generally take to the road in American cinema, so
Anton, despite the fact that he only gets downtown from Harlem, is
a distinctive protagonist. He’s also a character out of American
screwball comedy. There is a bit of Joel McCrea’s John L. Sullivan
in Anton; the two share a certain nobility because their road trips
are inspired by a conscious desire to improve themselves. In
Sullivan’s Travels, a somewhat dull-witted Hollywood
director sets out, against the advice of his associates, to
experience poverty in order to craft socially relevant films. What
he learns is that he already makes films which speak to the
disenfranchised. In Anton’s case, the journey to Italy is about
having the opportunity to study there, but his talent is already
developed, and obvious to everyone who hears him. The road allows
Anton to see the world more clearly, and it strengthens his
resolve. In the end, Anton’s great soul also transforms Wes and
Matthew.
It is rumored that Jennings made
Harlem Aria for a few
million dollars—and his economy of narrative is even more
impressive. In just a few minutes, at the start of the film, he
sketches Anton’s character with a wonderful tracking shot of the
young man walking to work. There we see what Anton desires, but
also what his aunt’s values saved him from, namely drugs and the
other lures of street life. Overall,
Harlem Aria is a
skillfully edited, well-acted film.
Original music by two different composers, as well as heavenly
Verdi and Puccini arias recorded with the Australian Opera and
Ballet Orchestra, crowd the soundtrack, but their dissonance plays
an important role. It exposes the bittersweet side of Anton’s
future. Like Wes’ angry-black-man harangue throughout the film, the
musical cacophony is a portrait of pathos, of “dreams deferred.”
Anton’s “road” is a paved New York City street, but when the movie
closes, he isn’t in Harlem anymore.
Film Review: Harlem Aria
Entertaining debut film about a Harlem laundry worker who dreams of becoming a famous tenor.
March 4, 2010
-By Maria Garcia
Harlem Aria is a New York fable—about race and class, and a 28-year-old black man named Anton (Gabriel Casseus). A Harlem laundry worker, Anton is “slow” and child-like, and has lived with his aunt for most of his life. His secret ambition is to become a famous tenor.
Each night, Anton practices with the recordings of famous arias, but after he’s taunted by neighborhood boys for his sublime rendition of
Pagliacci’s “Vesti la giubba,” he decides to run away from home. He sets out for Italy to learn opera, and to find his hero, tenor Fabiano Grazzi (Paul Sorvino). Dressed in an expensive tuxedo, Anton soon becomes the victim of a street hustler who swindles him out of the $183 that was to pay for his plane ticket.
Harlem Aria premiered at the 1999 Toronto Film Festival, received a smattering of openings abroad, and then was shelved after Viacom bought out the film’s domestic distributor. Writer-director William Jennings went on to become the head of a documentary program at Hofstra University and, like his protagonist, clung to his vision of himself as an artist. In his screenplay, Jennings obviously draws from his own experience in dramatizing the dilemmas that confront talented black men. And Anton’s aspirations are unusual—opera is, overwhelmingly, white. As the solitary man of color, even if he is a success, Anton will become an object of curiosity, held up by blacks as an example of achievement, and by whites as proof that racial differences do not exist. Other blacks will assess his “blackness,” and whites will measure his ability to “fit in.”
Anton eventually befriends Wes (Damon Wayans), the thief who stole his money, despite Wes’ needling that he’s not black enough, and that he prefers the company of Matthew (Christian Camargo), a white concert pianist and a victim of his own success. Matthew offers Anton a spot in his “street performances” in Washington Square Park. Both men exploit Anton by making money from his spirited, crowd-pleasing arias.
Matthew, whose girlfriend Julia (Kristen Wilson) is a world-renowned diva, has the means to help Anton but he doesn’t, and Wes continually points out Matthew’s racist attitudes in order to garner favor with Anton. The banter between Matthew and Wes, sometimes comic, sometimes biting, dramatizes Anton’s predicament, but also the lot of any successful artist in a society divided by class and race.
While Jennings has a gift for dialogue, the plot of
Harlem Aria is uneven. How Anton made it from Harlem to Greenwich Village isn’t explained and, in order to keep his guy-flick perspective, Jennings pushes the women too far into the background. This presents a problem when Julia, absent for half the movie, arrives from a European tour.
Black men do not generally take to the road in American cinema, so Anton, despite the fact that he only gets downtown from Harlem, is a distinctive protagonist. He’s also a character out of American screwball comedy. There is a bit of Joel McCrea’s John L. Sullivan in Anton; the two share a certain nobility because their road trips are inspired by a conscious desire to improve themselves. In
Sullivan’s Travels, a somewhat dull-witted Hollywood director sets out, against the advice of his associates, to experience poverty in order to craft socially relevant films. What he learns is that he already makes films which speak to the disenfranchised. In Anton’s case, the journey to Italy is about having the opportunity to study there, but his talent is already developed, and obvious to everyone who hears him. The road allows Anton to see the world more clearly, and it strengthens his resolve. In the end, Anton’s great soul also transforms Wes and Matthew.
It is rumored that Jennings made
Harlem Aria for a few million dollars—and his economy of narrative is even more impressive. In just a few minutes, at the start of the film, he sketches Anton’s character with a wonderful tracking shot of the young man walking to work. There we see what Anton desires, but also what his aunt’s values saved him from, namely drugs and the other lures of street life. Overall,
Harlem Aria is a skillfully edited, well-acted film.
Original music by two different composers, as well as heavenly Verdi and Puccini arias recorded with the Australian Opera and Ballet Orchestra, crowd the soundtrack, but their dissonance plays an important role. It exposes the bittersweet side of Anton’s future. Like Wes’ angry-black-man harangue throughout the film, the musical cacophony is a portrait of pathos, of “dreams deferred.” Anton’s “road” is a paved New York City street, but when the movie closes, he isn’t in Harlem anymore.