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    ‘Randy Rhoads: Reflections of a Guitar Icon’ Review: Beyond ‘Crazy Train’

    Forty years after Rhoads’s death, small rock venues across the nation still host tribute shows honoring him. This new documentary explains why.As those of a certain generation (OK, boomer) are well aware, a sobering number of rock greats met their ends in aviation catastrophes. The documentary “Randy Rhoads: Reflections of a Guitar Icon” delves into the 1982 plane crash that took Rhoads’s life. Just 25, and still the relatively new guitarist for Ozzy Osbourne, Rhoads didn’t much like flying. But, wanting to take some aerial photos to send his mom, he accepted a ride in a private plane piloted by a guy who thought it was funny to fly dangerously close over the tour bus in which Osbourne and crew were sleeping.It’s a sad end to a story that, as told in this movie directed by Andre Relis, is weirdly lopsided. Rhoads made both his name and arguably his best music over a period of only two years or so, with Osbourne on the albums “Blizzard of Ozz” and “Diary of a Madman.” Before that, he had been a founding member of the band Quiet Riot. Relis’s movie spends a lot of time on the pre-superstardom Riot years, which are replete with tales of internecine weirdness and elusive record deals redolent of “This Is Spinal Tap.”While his eclectic, sometimes classically inflected approach is heard to memorable effect on the Osbourne records — his riff for the song “Crazy Train” is one for the ages — attempts here to pin down what made Rhoads great vary. One friend marvels that he could play “fast,” “slow,” “crunchy” and “blues.” A guitar tech, Brian Reason, on the other hand, gives a nicely wonky breakdown of Rhoads’s showstopping solo style, with insights into his use of effects and the volume control.Rhoads comes off as a pleasant guy (never a big partyer; he tried to counsel Osbourne on his excessive drinking) and a genuine ax savant who died with a lot more music in him.Randy Rhoads: Reflections of a Guitar IconNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 25 minutes. Rent or buy on Apple TV, Google Play and other streaming platforms and pay TV operators. More

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    ‘The Sanctity of Space’ Review: Such Great Heights

    In this mountaineering documentary, climbers chronicle their obsessive quest for alpine glory.The Tooth Traverse is a five-mile alpine route across the skyline of the Mooses Tooth massif in the Central Alaskan Range. Wind-whipped and sun-beaten, its rocky peaks brushed with sheets of ice and snow, the traverse is highly technical and profoundly forbidding. For the filmmaker-mountaineers Renan Ozturk and Freddie Wilkinson, it’s also an obsession.The documentary “The Sanctity of Space” covers how the pair spend the better part of a decade endeavoring to become the first to complete the Tooth Traverse — even in the face of accidents, injuries and the kinds of close calls that could easily have been fatal. At one point, Ozturk explains that his romantic partner has left him because she could no longer stand his dangerous vocation. In the very next scene — a title card reads “One Week Later” — we find Ozturk in a gurney, wrapped head-to-toe in bandages, flitting in and out of consciousness. These are risks, the filmmakers suggest, inherent to the lives they lead.Ozturk and Wilkinson devote some of the film’s running time to the biography of one of their mountaineering heroes, the explorer and photographer Bradford Washburn. Though Washburn’s life was certainly interesting, these sections feel digressive and not well integrated.“It is belief as much as anything that allows one to cling to a wall,” James Salter wrote in his mountaineering novel “Solo Faces.” “The Sanctity of Space” is at its best when conveying the power of that belief — when a helmet-mounted GoPro captures the sheer expanse of a pitch mid-ascent, say, or when an aerial shot from a circling helicopter makes a climber appear minuscule against the vast face of a daunting peak. It’s this glory that the climbers were dedicated to pursuing, and through their eyes we can well understand the beauty of the quest.The Sanctity of SpaceNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 41 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Sheryl’ Review: The High Highs and Low Lows of Pop Stardom

    This documentary about Sheryl Crow depicts a musician whose work ethic did not allow a lot of time for frivolity.The early trajectory of Sheryl Crow’s career is not entirely unfamiliar. Born and raised in the Missouri Bootheel, she grew up loving and learning music. After a fortuitous break — a vocal in a McDonald’s ad — she lit out for more showbiz-friendly environs and got an instant dose of reality. Crow’s tale of finding a boot on her parked car and being unable to pay the ticket seems inevitable.In time she found a place in Michael Jackson’s band and its attendant glitz, glam and eccentricity. And, later, experienced sexual harassment at the hands of Jackson’s manager Frank DiLeo. Crow drops this bombshell with what some may consider surprising equanimity. It’s not the only dark story she tells here.Eventually, of course, Sheryl Crow became Sheryl Crow — the multiplatinum-selling singer-songwriter with a hefty set of radio hits. This documentary, directed by Amy Scott, is assembled in the semi-standard slick method of our day — you know, where they make the vintage footage look really vintage by digitally inserting a sprocket hole on the left side of the frame. Oy.Still: Crow herself is a more than interesting subject. She’s a musician whose Rock-with-a-capital-R cred — her guitar playing is ace, her voice is soulful and her ear for a hook is unimpeachable — is sometimes overlooked in favor of her pop appeal. And her story has a lot of twists. (Remember when she was engaged to Lance Armstrong?)Here she’s an engaging, unpretentious and consistently frank docent of her own career, which she assures the viewer is still ongoing, despite the fact that she’s not making albums right now. Friends including Laura Dern, Keith Richards and Brandi Carlile kick in words of admiration.SherylNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 34 minutes. Watch on Showtime platforms. More

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    ‘Spring Awakening: Those You’ve Known’ Review: Rock ’n’ Roll High School

    This film about the hit 2006 musical is a sure-handed blend of making-of explainer, theater-kid scrapbook, and jukebox documentary.The winner of eight Tonys in 2007 including best musical, “Spring Awakening” now gets an adoring documentary for a victory lap celebration. “Spring Awakening: Those You’ve Known” does a suitably wide-eyed recap of the show’s success, on the occasion of a recent reunion concert with the endearingly jazzed cast. Michael John Warren’s film is a sure-handed blend of making-of explainer, theater-kid scrapbook and jukebox documentary, doling out hits from its theatrical run (through clips) and the reunion.Steven Sater and Duncan Sheik’s musical brought a tragic punch — and cathartic rock-outs and ballads — to the age-old story of adolescents grappling with desire, secret pain, and unforgiving parents and teachers. As adapted from the 1891 Frank Wedekind play, the strait-laced period setting raised the stakes on the anguish of transgression, featuring sex, suicide and the emo touch of characters whipping out anachronistic microphones.Lea Michele and Jonathan Groff, later both on “Glee,” rose up playing the romantic leads, Wendla and Melchior, and here share about their offstage bond. There’s an atmosphere of openness in keeping with the show’s self-expression: Groff discusses coming out after concluding his run, and his co-star Lauren Pritchard references childhood abuse. When it comes to Sater, Sheik and the director of the original production, Michael Mayer, their recalled jitters feel a tad warmed-over, but it’s intriguing to hear Sater note the 1999 Columbine shooting as an impetus.If the documentary feels more packaged than the “American Utopia” film or the vérité classic “Original Cast Album: Company,” it succeeds as a welcoming group hug.Spring Awakening: Those You’ve KnownNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 23 minutes. Watch on HBO platforms. More

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    Jacques Perrin, French Film Star and Producer, Is Dead at 80

    He was a heartthrob in the musical “The Young Girls of Rochefort,” a photojournalist in the thriller “Z,” and a world-weary director in the hit “Cinema Paradiso.”Jacques Perrin, a comely and soft-spoken veteran French actor — he didn’t smolder so much as twinkle — who went from starring in musical and dramatic films to directing and producing them, most notably the political thrillers of Costa-Gavras and his own poetic documentaries about the natural world, died on April 21 in Paris. He was 80.His son, Mathieu Simonet, confirmed the death. No cause was given.Mr. Perrin was a lonely and gallant teenager in the Italian melodrama “Girl With a Suitcase” (1961), in which he tries to rescue a down-and-out beauty played by Claudia Cardinale who has been ditched by his lout of an older brother.He was a dreamy sailor in Jacques Demy’s “The Young Girls of Rochefort,” a giddy, candy-colored 1967 French musical (now considered a camp classic) that starred Catherine Deneuve and her sister, Francoise Dorléac, as a pair of twins looking for love and finding it with Mr. Perrin, his hair bleached like straw (and looking rather like a young David Hockney) and Gene Kelly. (Ms. Dorléac died in a car crash shortly after the film was made.)That same year, Mr. Perrin and Natalie Wood appeared as chaste young lovers whose elders urge them to get on with it in “All the Other Girls Do,” an Italian farce.Mr. Perrin with Francoise Dorléac in “The Young Girls Of Rochefort,” a giddy, candy-colored 1967 French musical.Mary Evans/AF Archive/Cinetext Bildarchiv/Everett CollectionMr. Perrin went on to play an opportunistic photojournalist who discovers his conscience in “Z,” a 1969 political thriller by Costa-Gavras, the Greek-born director. Mr. Perrin also produced the movie, a feat of “accounting acrobatics,” as he put it, since no one else would touch the film. (It is about the real-life assassination of a Greek politician.) Altogether, Mr. Perrin appeared in some 100 films, and produced close to 40.To American audiences, however, he was best known for his role in “Cinema Paradiso” (1988). He played Salvatore, a world-weary film director who was once a wide-eyed 8-year-old nicknamed Toto. In flashback, Toto is seen in thrall to the movies he watches at a theater in a small postwar Sicilian village and under the wing of the father figure Alfredo (Philippe Noiret), the philosophical projectionist who slices out the naughty bits — the on-screen kisses — on the orders of the village priest.The final scene was a humdinger: Mr. Perrin, weeping gorgeously in a darkened theater, once more in thrall. Critics were dry-eyed, but audiences were not, and it was a smash hit that won all sorts of awards, including the Oscar for best foreign film and a Golden Globe.Mr. Perrin played a similar role in “The Chorus” (2004), which he also produced, about orphaned boys in a grim boarding school who are rescued by a singing teacher who helps them form a choir. It, too, was a hit, at least in France, inspiring a frenzy of amateur singing, just as “High School Musical” did a few years later in the United States. Mr. Perrin, speaking to The New York Times, described “The Chorus” as “a fragile and precious movie about childhood memories.”Other films were less successful. He produced and starred in “The Roaring Forties,” a 1982 drama about a sailor on a nonstop solo race around the world, based on the real-life adventures of Donald Crowhurst, a British sailor who disappeared while attempting a solo circumnavigation in 1969. Though Julie Christie, an otherwise reliable box-office draw, was his co-star, the film did so poorly — a “shipwreck,” as Le Monde put it — that it took Mr. Perrin 10 years to pay off the debt he accrued while making it.“He worked on what was interesting to him,” Mr. Simonet, who is also an actor, director and producer, and who often collaborated with his father, said in a phone interview. “His purpose was not to make blockbusters, even if some of his films have become blockbusters. He bet his life all the time. He followed his dreams, with no limit.”Jacques André Simonet was born on July 13, 1941, in Paris. His father, Alexandre Simonet, was the manager of La Comédie-Française, Paris’s centuries-old state run theater; his mother, Marie Perrin, was an actress, and Jacques took her last name as his stage name. He left school at 15 and worked as a grocery clerk before studying at the Conservatoire National Supérieur d’Art Dramatique.In addition to his son, he is survived by his wife, Valentine Perrin, who has also produced films; their sons, Maxence and Lancelot; and a sister, Janine Baisadouli. His first marriage, to Chantal Bouillaut, ended in divorce.Mr. Perrin with Eurasian cranes on the set of the documentary “Winged Migration” (2001), described as “a sweeping global tour from a bird’s-eye view.”Patrick Chauvel/Sony Pictures ClassicsMr. Perrin, an ardent environmentalist, made hypnotic films about the natural world. “Microcosmos” (1996), is all about insects. “Oceans” (2009) dives underwater. “Winged Migration” (2001) takes to the skies as it tracks a year in the life of migrating birds, like cranes, storks and geese, as they fly thousands of miles through 40 countries and all seven continents. In The Times, Stephen Holden called it “a sweeping global tour from a bird’s-eye view.”“Winged Migration” was made under extraordinary circumstances over three years, with 14 cinematographers flying with the birds in ultralight aircraft built for that purpose. Balloons, remote control gliders and other devices were also used to film among the birds, half of which were trained at Mr. Perrin’s house in Normandy.These birds were exposed to and imprinted with the aircraft as chicks — as Konrad Lorenz, the Austrian animal zoologist and ornithologist, once famously discovered, chicks will become attached to the first large moving object they encounter — so that once they took flight, the crews could accompany them, like members of the flock.“Birds don’t normally fly beside aircraft, nor can they be trained like circus animals,” Patricia Thomson wrote in American Cinematographer magazine in 2003. “So Perrin began what would become the largest imprinting project ever. Over 1,000 eggs — representing 25 species — were raised by ornithologists and students at a base in Normandy where Perrin also rented an airfield. During incubation and early life, the chicks were exposed to the sound of motor engines and the human voice, then were trained to follow the pilot — first on foot, then in the air. These birds would be the main actors, the heroes of flight. The rest of the footage would involve thousands of wild birds, filmed in their natural environments.”Mr. Perrin wanted moviegoers to feel as the birds did and to feel, as Mr. Simonet said, that they could reach out and touch them.The ultralight aircraft weren’t easy to fly, Mr. Perrin told James Gorman of The Times. Two crashed, leaving the pilot and the cameraman with minor injuries; no winged creatures were hurt.“Sometimes at 10,000 feet a bird would land on a cinematographer’s lap and have to be nudged off with one hand while he held a heavy 35-millimeter film camera in the other,” Mr. Gorman wrote. “One rule was absolute: No filmmakers with vertigo need apply.”The scientific consultants on the film were so moved by the experience of flying with the flocks that when they landed, many burst into tears.“They don’t say so splendid words,” Mr. Perrin told Mr. Gorman. “They cry.” More

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    ‘Hello, Bookstore’ Review: A Bibliophile and His Shop in Close-Up

    This documentary makes it clear why, when the pandemic threatened Matthew Tannenbaum’s store, book lovers weren’t ready to say goodbye.Matthew Tannenbaum’s reading voice beckons. Which may be a funny thing to remark upon given that we see his face nearly nonstop in “Hello, Bookstore.” Then again, the documentary about this bookstore owner, directed by A.B. Zax, is a tribute to the love of reading and the pleasures of a smartly stocked bookstore. Tannenbaum’s fondness for his store and its wares is a beautiful thing to behold, even at its most vulnerable.Starting in Spring 2020, the coronavirus put a hurt on Tannenbaum’s ledger; soon the shop in Lenox, Mass., which he bought in 1976, called simply the Bookstore, was teetering. Tannenbaum started a GoFundMe campaign in August 2020, but that’s just the accidental hook for this affectionate portrait.Zax began this love letter earlier, in fall 2019, his digital camera often watching like a fly-on-a-shelf. So, the dark days of the pandemic are intercut with scenes of sun-dappled or wintry afternoons. Leaves collect as the door opens to new, returning and — because the Bookstore is one of those havens and Tannenbaum one of those raconteurs — sojourning customers.We see regulars and literary wayfarers. We also meet Tannenbaum’s daughters, who have shared him with the store since the mid-1990s, when Tannenbaum’s wife (their mother) died.We also learn about his life. Brooklyn-born, Tannenbaum was discharged from the Navy ready to have his mind expanded. His memoir about coming into his intellectual own at Frances Steloff’s Gotham Book Mart was published in 2009. Tannenbaum pays forward those Book Mart lessons: bantering, browsing and connecting — for a spell with a glass door between the customer and him. And sometimes he just sits down, puts his feet up and reads: A curator doing his inspired thing.Hello, BookstoreNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 26 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Fiddler’s Journey to the Big Screen’ Review: Making a New Tradition

    Daniel Raim’s admiring documentary uses interviews and movie clips to detail the making of Norman Jewison’s beloved movie musical.Once, movies released on home media came with an ancillary disc holding a catalog of behind-the-scenes extras. Daniel Raim’s gleefully reverent documentary “Fiddler’s Journey to the Big Screen” has the feeling of such specials, mingling interviews and movie clips to chronicle the making of Norman Jewison’s 1971 musical movie and salute its enduring success.Despite his name and a lifelong interest in Judaism, Jewison is Protestant, and he worried that fact would preclude him from directing “Fiddler on the Roof.” Hollywood proved him wrong. Raim is interested in how Jewison sought to preserve the story’s essence while making creative updates, and in doing so “Fiddler’s Journey” touches on issues of Jewish representation but does not interrogate them.The documentary’s most moving segments involve music. Raim wisely works in many instances of “Fiddler” actors and music department members reciting lines or singing lyrics from the movie, often from memory. Raim intercuts these contemporary moments with the original scenes, accentuating how the power of cinema lies in its ability to endure even as its creators fade.Other making-of stories — perhaps most notably, “Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse” — show film sets as sites of chaos, mishaps and folly. Here was a production that instead came together under seemingly minor stress, with all of its players eager to bare their hearts for the camera.Fiddler’s Journey to the Big ScreenNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 28 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘The Mystery of Marilyn Monroe: The Unheard Tapes’ Review: Gossip Girl

    This documentary teases a vague conspiracy surrounding Monroe’s death — but mostly rehashes well-circulated facts and rumors.If you call a movie “The Mystery of Marilyn Monroe: The Unheard Tapes,” your job is to provide at least something worth listening to. This documentary, directed by Emma Cooper in the latest addition to Netflix’s catalog of true-crime (or crime-ish) stories, begins by teasing some sort of conspiracy surrounding Marilyn Monroe’s 1962 death from an overdose. But mostly the film presents a banal rehash of established facts and well-circulated rumors about Monroe’s life.The tapes in question are the interviews that the Irish journalist Anthony Summers recorded while researching Monroe; he published his conclusions in the 1985 book “Goddess: The Secret Lives of Marilyn Monroe.” The movie version adds the ostensible perk of hearing the real voices of John Huston, Jane Russell and Billy Wilder, among others, as actors lip-sync to their remembrances — which, again, are mostly footnotes.Summers apparently got more tantalizing intel from the family of Ralph Greenson, who was Monroe’s psychiatrist, and from Fred Otash, a private eye who in the tapes says that Jimmy Hoffa wanted him to dig up dirt on John F. Kennedy and Robert F. Kennedy. Throughout the film, Monroe is said to have been involved with both Kennedy brothers. Fears of Communism and loose talk of nuclear weapons may have had something to do with something. But the insinuations, a greatest-hits of Cold War paranoia, hardly amount to a dispositive case or even a coherent theory.Finally, Summers, who appears continually, presents his ideas surrounding Monroe’s final hours and potential inconsistencies in the timeline. The claims are more of a “hmm” than a bombshell.The Mystery of Marilyn Monroe: The Unheard TapesNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 41 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More