One Trick Pony (1980)

Last week, midway through reading Robert Hilburn’s biography of Paul Simon, I decided to finally get to one of the many movies on my to-watch list: One Trick Pony, a work written by and starring Simon. The film is largely forgotten and was considered a flop upon its release. Simon even offered to pay his record label back for the film’s failure. But like many overly-maligned works, One Trick Pony seems a like better when you give it more consideration.

One Trick Pony is the story of Jonah Levin (Paul Simon) a successful singer-songwriter from the 60s who is struggling to stay relevant in 1980. Levin travels with his band (played by Simon’s actual musical collaborators Steve Gadd, Eric Gale, Tony Levin and Richard Tee), who are musically gifted, but more lackadaisical than the brooding Jonah. This tension is established in an early scene when one of the bandmates reads out a review in which the guitarist is praised as “mellifluous,” but Jonah is described as uninvested.

The film doesn’t so much have a story arc as it has several recurring hotspots of drama. There’s the road with the band, New York with Jonah’s ex-wife and son (Blair Brown and Michael Pearlman), and the various offices and galas of music’s moguls. While with his ex-wife, Jonah can’t avoid conflict; she sees his commitment to music as childish and impractical. Yet whenever they are apart, he is rendered hollow by the separation; she is the closest thing to a person he can feel comfortable with.

Paul Simon tells a low-stakes story. This approach is not uncommon in indie movies today, but perhaps its mundanity was too much (or should I say too little) for mainstream audiences of the 80s. Pony is certainly no Empire Strikes Back, a work that Jonah takes his son to see (and also happens to star Simon’s then partner Carrie Fisher).

Alternatively, perhaps some viewers were put off by the film’s lack of authenticity. The character of Jonah Levin is clearly influenced by Simon. He sings songs written in Simon’s lyrical style. He leaves a marriage, yet is too guilt-wrecked to really leave his ex’s neighborhood. He even falls for his manager’s wife. Unlike Paul Simon however, Jonah Levin is presented as a one-hit-wonder who’s fallen into obscurity (and is relegated to being an opening act for the B-52s). Simon’s life story is one of recurring depression and dips in self-confidence, but that doesn’t mean audiences were willing to “believe” a film that presented a future rock’n’roll hall of famer as a struggling has-been.

But while Jonah is no reflection of the real Simon’s musical status, he does appear to reflect his musical anxieties. Jonah’s big hit was an anti-Vietnam War song called “Soft Parachutes.”  He no longer plays the song in sets because, as he points out, the war is long over.

“Soft Parachutes” serves as a reference Simon’s own “He Was My Brother,” the one song older than “Sound of Silence” that can really be said to have gotten Simon’s career rolling. While “Silence” has remained one of Simon’s favorite compositions, “He Was My Brother,” a more derivative, and less poetic tune, has fallen out of favour. Laudable as “He Was My Brother’s” subject matter is (it is a tribute to a murdered civil rights activist), Simon rightfully believes that artists best serve the world by producing sincere craftmanship as opposed to overt, uninspired messaging.

Jonah, like Simon, is not a creature of the 60s. He doesn’t want his image to be that of the eternal protestor. But he’s equally off-put by the commercial demands of the Reagan era, eschewing management’s demands for lush musical production and lyrical hooks. Jonah does not want to fit his music to a market-niche. He wants to have his natural wit and artistry appreciated for what they are.

One Trick Pony is essentially the hybrid of an Elvis movie and a Noah Baumbach film. On the one hand, it is the story of a musician playing a character who is essentially himself, and relying on the odd overly-expository line. On the other hand, Simon’s story, unlike those in typical Elvis flicks, is not routed in Hollywood cliché. For Simon, celebrity was not a vehicle for glamour and excess, but a way to get the most out of his ordinary New York existence. Jonah does not drive around in fancy cars wooing women, but takes his son to the movies, and plays one-on-one baseball at the local park.

One Trick Pony’s final scene is perhaps its most important. Crying and talking with his ex-wife (Simon’s strongest acting moment), Jonah quotes the Elvis song “Are You Lonesome Tonight.” The original song features Elvis breaking into soliloquy, and a kitschy one at that

I wonder if you’re lonesome tonight

You know someone said that the world’s a stage

And each must play a part

Fate had me playing in love you as my sweet heart

Through his bittersweet tears, Jonah gives Elvis’s speech a better context. The scene, meanwhile, puts One Trick Pony into historical context. Paul Simon has taken the Elvis movie to the next level. He made a movie without the stardom-clichés of Jailhouse Rock or Purple Rain, that instead sincerely told the story of his search for musical bliss. What else could a movie in this genre has achieved that Simon didn’t? There may yet be an answer to this question but, forty years on, One-Trick Pony sure deserves better recognition.