Beyond the Sea (8/10)

by Tony Medley

I remember Bobby Darin’s career from start to finish. After his first hit, Splish Splash (1958), I thought he was another Tommy Sands type guy, a one hit rock ‘n’ roll wonder. But then came Mack the Knife and I thought, “Oh, oh; here’s a guy to be taken seriously.”

Coming in at around two hours, this is a terrific musical. We hear most of Darin’s songs, although I was disappointed we didn’t hear Clementine. I have always thought that Clementine epitomized Darin’s great talent. Who else could have a hit from such a traditional folk song? Like Mack the Knife, what made it exceptional was the arrangement. I also missed hearing Things (1962) which, for my money, was the best song he wrote. We actually don’t learn much at all about his writing.

In addition to minimizing his composing, the film does not mention who did Darin’s arranging, whether it was Darin himself or someone else. And it doesn’t go into the derivation of the songs he chose. Mack the Knife was the song that made Darin a star. But we learn nothing about how he chose it, why he chose it, or who did the arranging. It’s not as if Darin introduced a new song. Berthold Brecht wrote the music and Kurt Weill the original lyrics as The Theme for The Threepenny Opera in 1928. After Weill’s 1950 death, American composer Marc Blitzstein translated Threepenny Opera into the version that played off-Broadway for seven years and made Mack the Knife immensely popular. It wasn’t until Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong recorded it in 1955 that it became a well known song throughout the world. But it was Darin who made it a runaway hit. Although Darin recorded it December of 1958, it wasn’t released until August of 1959 when it went to number 1 and remained there for 9 weeks. It was Darin’s only number 1 song. But you won’t learn any of this from the movie, and more’s the pity.

More time should have been given to ‘50s record producer Ahmet Ertegun (Tayfun Bademsoy) because after the 20 year old Darin wrote Splish Splash (in 12 minutes!), neither Herb Abramason nor Jerry Wexler of Darin’s record label, Atlantic Records, thought enough of it to give him a recording session. Darin went to Ertegun who liked it enough to give him half a session to record it in April of 1958. The result was Darin’s first million seller. Ertegun was worth much more to Darin’s career than the small scenes he gets.

This is not a linear movie and it’s much better for it. Time frames and characters are juxtaposed so that it’s more like a fantasy. Mature Bobby interfaces with Little Bobby (William Ullrich) throughout the film. Ullrich is good beyond his 11 years.

Darin’s life was not easy. He had a heart problem throughout his short life and had a mixed up relationship with his mother that seriously affected his later life. Both of these are handled with sensitivity.

This is a self-centered, albeit auteur, performance by Kevin Spacey, who wrote, produced, directed, and starred. For me the major weakness of the film is that Spacey did not lip sync to Darin’s voice. The voice we hear is Spacey’s. While it’s not a bad voice, and while he sounds a lot like Darin, he’s not Bobby Darin. If Larry Parks could lip sync Al Jolson in The Jolson Story (1946), and Jamie Foxx could lip sync Ray Charles in Ray this year, surely Spacey should have had enough respect for Darin to use his voice. After all, this isn’t the life story of a mediocrity; it’s Bobby Darin! I want to hear the real thing. But Spacey apparently figured that he was putting so much into this, he might as well get a singing career out of it as well, so Bobby’s voice was dumped. Spacey even participates in all the dance numbers. Is a biopic of Fred Astaire next?

I also did not care for Kate Bosworth’s performance as Darin’s wife, actress Sandra Dee. Dee was cute; Bosworth is much harder looking. And Bosworth is yet another graduate of the Sean Penn school of acting because when she cries she is dry-eyed which makes her wailing ludicrous.

Finally, Darin is presented as so saintly he could be assumed bodily into heaven without benefit of death. There is no mention of his relationship with singer Connie Francis. The story I’ve always heard is that he wanted to marry Connie, who was the love of his life, but didn’t have the guts to stand up to her father, who opposed the marriage.

The film whitewashes Darin’s brutal termination of his marriage in 1967. Dee told People Magazine in 1991, "He just woke up one morning and didn't want to be married anymore. It ended with a suddenness I still can't explain." The film closes with a disclaimer that seems to imply that many of the characters covered in the film might not agree with the way they are represented. It also said that Dee loves Darin to this day, a dubious premise at best. From what I’ve always heard, the flawless, apparently conceived without the stain of Original Sin Bobby Darin we see in this film never existed.

But maybe the dumbest part of this movie is near the end when Bobby’s career is in the toilet. He’s talking with Dee and she says, “People hear what they see.” Flash! Bobby jumps up. It’s an old Hollywood moment! What did you say? What? What did you just say? No, not that! “People hear what they see?” That’s it! Bobby runs to his advisers and says that Sandra has found the solution to his problem. What’s that, Bobby? “People hear what they see! People hear what they see!” With this wisdom as his guide Bobby goes back to night club singing in Las Vegas. “People hear what they see?” If that’s not meaningless nonsense, I don’t know what is.

I enjoyed the movie but wish that it had used Bobby Darin’s voice, that someone else had been cast as Sandra Dee, that we had been given more information about the music Darin created, and that Darin had been presented with at least a few warts.

December 15, 2004

The End

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