The Musical Question

LANDFILL HARMONIC (B+) - What a joyful noise. This heartwarming documentary tells the story of children in Paraguay learning to play musical instruments made from trash-heap scraps.

The backwater town of Cateura is built around a garbage dump, where many folks scavenge to make a living. Nicolas "Cola" Gomez started making violins, cellos and other instruments from the scraps. Favio Chavez showed up as an inspirational music instructor. And the children fell under his wing, eventually traveling the world, becoming media darlings, and jamming with rock stars.

Three relatively new filmmakers -- Brad Allgood, Graham Townsley and Juliana Penaranda Loftus -- meticulously curate the ultimate culture study of how art and music can transform the lives of children, wildly expanding their world. They quickly focus on the star of the movie, adorable Ada, who bravely survives about four years of filming during the peak of her adolescence.

Ada is articulate and charming. She's also a major fan of '80s metal gods Megadeth, and she and her pals get the attention of the aging hair band. Leader Dave Mustaine pays a surprise visit, and Ada nearly faints as if in the throes of Beatlemania. Eventually, the kids share a stage with the big boys.

The other children flesh out the story. Tania is painfully shy, scarred by her parents' breakup, and through this improbable little orchestra, she discovers a way to express herself. Awkward Esteban plays drums on skins made from medical X-rays. (Another kid plays the cello, which is created mainly from an oil drum.) Astute Maria joins Ada and Tania on violin, and she has the drive to slide into a junior instructor's role.

For 84 minutes, you lose yourself in this happy world where anything seems possible. When the town is hit by major flooding, the movie effortlessly weaves in this narrative hook. We watch the children turn into young adults. They seem happy, and we're happy for them. Their version of "Ode to Joy" makes for a perfect theme song.

EAT THAT QUESTION: FRANK ZAPPA IN HIS OWN WORDS (B-minus) - This clip job is passable as an overview of the life and career of Frank Zappa, the foul-mouthed avant-garde alt-rock darling.

German director Thorsten Schutte lets Zappa tell his own story through extended archival footage -- no talking heads, no narration.  The clips range from his early TV appearance (clean-cut and wearing a suit) on Steve Allen's variety show (Zappa played a bicycle wheel, to Steverino's consternation) to a surprisingly insightful interview by a "Today" show correspondent while Zappa was in the final stages of cancer. We also see him hang with a bunch of squares on an early incarnation of "Crossfire" on CNN. And his appearance on "What's My Line?" in 1971 -- he is busted by Soupy Sales (!) -- is a good example of Schutte letting a clip play out; Zappa starts to ramble about the movie he has just directed, and host Wally Bruner (!) has to cut the guest off, reminding us that the mainstream considered Zappa to be a mere curiosity not to be taken seriously.

All the career highlights are here -- from the man's '60s and '70s sonic experiments to his fleeting novelty hits, from his fight against Tipper Gore and the censors in the 1980s to his later acclaim as a classical composer. The main frustration is the choice of songs plucked by Schutte. He almost goes out of his way to inflict some of Zappa's worst musical offerings on the viewer.

I was never much of a fan. To me, Zappa had a penchant for trying too hard to be cutting edge and anti-authority, hailed as a genius, but far less clever and much more annoying than anyone would really let on. It was nice to have him in the world, and his shtick seems fine in theory, but too often, in practice, he came across as annoying and juvenile. (Although I do appreciate being set straight on a botched lyric that I've had in my head for years; it's not Dinah-Moe Humm who squeaks when she cums but rather the Jewish Princess.)

Some moments are quite moving. Zappa is treated like a rock star in Czechoslovakia after the fall of communism, bonding with fans while hobnobbing with Vaclev Havel. The final scene -- shot shortly before his death at 52 of prostate cancer -- captures Zappa in pure reverie as he conducts an orchestra on a run through one of his pieces.

It is a kick to have Zappa brought back to life. He was an ardent defender of free speech (though smugly non-PC). He heroically blew raspberries at the establishment (though his rather conservative philosophy seems taken chapter and verse from the writings of Ayn Rand). He was talented and he knew it. While testifying before Congress about song lyrics, a senator wonders about the toys he has bought his four children and Zappa invites her over to the house to see for herself -- and he seems to genuinely mean it.

He was curmudgeonly to the end. In that final interview, he insists that he doesn't want or need to be remembered -- he'll leave that to the Reagans and Bushes of the world. Schutte, a bit clunkily, reminds us that we have some fond memories of Zappa, and we remember what the world used to be like when he was in it.

BONUS TRACK
The "Landfill Harmonic" story is best experienced through the movie, especially if you haven't been exposed to the tale previously. (The orchestra apparently was quite the YouTube sensation.) Here is the trailer: