Brad Bernstein's TOMI UNGERER STORY -- that famous/unknown children's book artist

Why does so much of the work of Tomi Ungerer, considered by some -- most likely the very old or the very young -- to be one of the world's finest children's book artists, seem barely known here in the U.S.? As we learn from the exemplary documentary FAR OUT ISN'T FAR ENOUGH: THE TOMI UNGERER STORY, this most interesting artist was quite literally blacklisted by our guardians of culture here in the U.S. and so for a quarter-century produced no more children's books. This period, beginning in the early 1970s, pretty much coincided with the birth of our daughter, and so we (and she) missed out on this artist's gift to kids.

Directed, written and produced by Brad Bernstein (shown at left), the documentary begins with the artist, now in his early 80s, living in Ireland, then backtracks to his earliest days. Born in 1931 in the Alsace-Lorraine region of France (in Strasbourg) which had long been fought over by the French and the Germans, the region, like the rest of Europe, was soon embroiled in the Nazi plans for universal conquest. (Ungerer's anecdote about his mother and the speaking of the French in Strasbourg under the German rule is an eye-opening look at both the Nazi mind and the character of Mrs. Ungerer (who was herself an actress and a noted beauty of the day.)

We see plenty of archival photos of Ungerer (above, today) as a boy and  young man (below) and learn of the death of his father (also an artist) when Tomi was still pre-teen. As a young man he comes to the promised land of New York City, and his recollections of finding work are delightful, unique and lots of fun. Quite successful, too. Among the icons who herald the artist are the late, great Maurice Sendak and the still-with-us Jules Feiffer.

Ungerer has kept his wits about him, as well as his sense of humor, which makes the movie such an enjoyable ride. His career ran from, first, advertising art (below),

through poster work, shown further below, which was often extremely political and shocking (as someone who had experienced war up close, he was firmly against the U.S. role in Vietnam),

and finally to those now famous children's books -- art from which appears toward the bottom of this post.

There was one other category in which Ungerer excelled -- erotic art as shown below -- done in his typically off-the-wall, direct and unfiltered style. Though completely separate from his children's books, this art, once viewed by "the public," caused such an alarm in the minds of our cultural gatekeepers that Ungerer's work was banned from libraries (then a key source of income for book artists) and from reviews in most magazines and newspapers.

This led to the move of Tomi and his wife to Canada, and then to Nova Scotia (to a town, it would appear, all about guns and death) and eventually to Ireland, where he now remains. The artist speaks of Ireland in such a loving and kind manner that you may think you're hearing of this long-term, war-torn country for the first time.

 How he spent most of those 25 years between children's book is not addressed, and though the movie lasts 98 minutes (a bit long for documentaries these days), it could have done with -- as a friend pointed out who watched the documentary with us -- at least a few more words about this period and what went on during it.

What makes the movie especially enjoyable is the character of Ungerer himself, and the wit and style with which the film has been put together -- using Tomi's art and some occasional animation, along with some very good editing (mostly by Rick Cikowski) so that everything moves along at a pleasant clip.

Among the important themes that crop up (in addition to what kind of literature is "good for" children) is that of repression via censorship -- a more-or-less constant in Ungerer's life, beginning with the book burning by the Nazi's, followed by that of post-war France (in Strasbourg, at least) burning the great literature of Germany (which may surprise some viewers) and continuing into his time in the USA, when his work was blacklisted. When you insist on breaking new boundaries, I guess, you'd better expect some negative reaction.

Far Out Isn't Far Enough (one of Ungerer's commandments concerning creativity and how to keep it going) -- unrated and from First Run Features -- opened theatrically this past Friday in New York City (at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema) and will open in Los Angeles (at the Landmark Nuart) this coming Friday, June 21. Click here to see all upcoming playdates and theaters.

Kenneth Bowser's PHIL OCHS: THERE BUT FOR FORTUNE is a fascinating time capsule

For some of us who came of age in the 1960s, PHIL OCHS: THERE BUT FOR FORTUNE, the new documentary by Kenneth Bowser may prove to be quite the little time trip back into what we imagine to have been our "heyday." They're all here: the folk singers (Dylan, Baez, Peter Yarrow and, of course, Mr. Ochs) and their songs, the protests, the hippies, drugs and alcohol aplenty, along with that sense of purpose -- loosely imagined as it might have been -- that appeared to bring us all together. Yet what emerges from the film more strongly than anything else (for this viewer, at least) is the sense of history as something that repeats and repeats and repeats. All of which makes this movie, as immensely enjoyable as it is on one level, depressing as hell on another. Given the state of the USA today.

Mr. Bowser, shown at right (the photo credit's at bottom) has done a bang-up job of telling Ochs' story -- and a good one (if a sad one) it is. We get his youthful enthusiasm and talent, along with hints of what is to come; some interesting critique of performers and their songs (Dylan's were accessible, Ochs' direct but more difficult); and some family history (Phil's dad had what seems like undiagnosed post-traumatic stress syndrome after his experiences during WWII). We hear some of the witty numbers Ochs was so good at (Love Me, I'm a Liberal, in which he gives liberal Democrats "what for"), as well as some of his more rousing songs (I Ain't Marchin' Anymore, Draft Dodger Rag, and The War Is Over).

For me, Ochs most memorable song has always been The Pleasures of the Harbor (from the album of the same name). Not a protest number, it is instead simply gorgeous and moving in its sad beauty -- and different from anything the musician had done before or did after. The album flopped, though it had its staunch defenders at the time. At this point Ochs' decline, already in motion, speeded up.

The musician was manic-depressive, as we learn from his brother, and also somewhat paranoid. Fueled by too much alcohol, these handicaps finally burst their too-lightweight bonds. As we see event after event pass before us all over again -- the 1968 Democratic Convention at which Chicago police attacked peaceful demonstrators, helping to lose the that year's election to Richard Nixon; the rise of the Weathermen, together with the bombings and the despair; Kent State; and finally the fall of Allende in Chile, for which Ochs and others clearly blamed the US/CIA connection -- it becomes clear that outside events, coupled to the musician's inner demons, joined forces to sink the man. (The movie seems particularly smart about the unusual combination in Ochs' character that made him both a patriot and a protester.)

We're treated to a final concert at which both Ochs and Dylan (who, though initially close, soon became rivals and enemies) join up to sing and play (not very well, from the sound of it) at a final (for Ochs) sold-out concert. This strange, sometimes funny but more often sad and depressing, trip down memory lane is one I would not have missed. Reliving those times is salutary, and Bowser and his crew have put together an exemplary documentary about a man who deserves remembrance from his contemporaries and knowledge of from the younger set. For far too many of the latter, the idea of "protest" (except maybe at mom and dad for curtailing the credit card) has yet to enter their vocabulary or their life.

Phil Ochs: There but for Fortune, from First Run Features, opens today, January 5, in New York City at the IFC Center, and will play in seven other US cities (and one Canadian) in the months to come. You can check playdates here, with cities and theaters listed.

All photos are from the film itself, except for that of Mr Bowser, which 

comes courtesy of Zev Greenfield/Milk & Honey Productions.