The T.A.M.I. Show 1964 DvdRip Avi Lee1001

T.A.M.I. Show 1964 DvdRip Avi Lee1001

Concert, Documentary.



Pop History Revealed! Doing Splits!

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0058631/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T.A.M.I._Show

EVEN Michael Jackson couldn’t find a copy. In an interview just before “Thriller” was released in 1982 Mr. Jackson begged a reporter to help him locate a rare videotape of a 1964 James Brown performance because, as Mr. Jackson said, “he got so out of himself.” Years later the producer Rick Rubin would describe this same appearance as possibly “the single greatest rock ’n’ roll performance ever captured on film.”



In the footage Brown delivers an 18-minute barrage of splits, twists and spins. He hits his knees, drops into a push-up and glides halfway across the stage on one foot. During an epic, gravity-defying version of “Night Train,” he teases the audience into hysteria with multiple fake exits.



But due to a strange, tangled web of ownership, this legendary set, from a concert film called “The T.A.M.I. Show,” hasn’t been officially available for more than four decades. The film has been celebrated in song lyrics, enjoyed an afterlife on the bootleg market and occasionally surfaced on the film festival and museum circuit. But on Tuesday it will be released on DVD for the first time. The chance to see Brown’s breathtaking routine is cause enough for celebration, but the rest of the lineup is comparably memorable.



Of the 12 acts in the movie, 7 went on to become members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, including the Rolling Stones, the Beach Boys, Chuck Berry and the Supremes. And incredible for the time, not only did black and white artists share the spotlight, but the audience and even the onstage go-go dancers were integrated. Filmed on October 29, 1964, at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in California, the show has had an air of mystery from its conception through its muddled distribution and subsequent disappearance.



T.A.M.I. stands for the clunky Teenage Awards Music International, and William Sargent, the executive producer, initially thought that it would become an annual concert filmed for network broadcast. Mr. Sargent connected with Joseph Bluth, who had developed an electronic camera with greater resolution than standard television cameras, so the show also became a spotlight for this Electronovision technology. To the artists, though, what really mattered was that it was going to be a genuine rock ’n’ roll concert film, considered the first of its kind. “There weren’t a lot of people making movies except movie stars,” Mary Wilson of the Supremes said.



Steve Binder, who worked on the “The Steve Allen Show” and would later direct Elvis Presley’s comeback special in 1968, was brought in as the director. Jack Nitzsche — a member of Phil Spector’s studio team known as the Wrecking Crew, who went on to work with the Rolling Stones and Neil Young — was tapped as the show’s musical director. Mr. Binder credits him for the diversity and consistency of the talent. “He really understood artists and their chemistry,” he said. “And most of the managers thought, ‘We have nothing to lose.’ ”



The roster for “The T.A.M.I. Show” was a remarkable snapshot of a wide-open moment in pop music, just as the Beatles’ arrival was transforming the rules. Taking the stage were representatives of Motown (Gaye, the Supremes, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles), the British Invasion (the Rolling Stones, Gerry and the Pacemakers, Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas), surf music (the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean), first-wave rock ’n’ roll (Berry), hard-core soul (Brown), Brill Building pop (Lesley Gore) and even proto-garage rock (the Barbarians).



“It had never been done before, and it’s never been done since,” Keith Richards said in the 2003 book “According to the Rolling Stones” (Chronicle Books). He described the show as “really kaleidoscopic.”



Other participants point out that such bills weren’t unusual at the time, even though “The T.A.M.I. Show” was particularly power packed. “You had the Murray the K shows, Dick Clark’s ‘Bandstand’ shows, with 8 or 10 acts from different genres," Mike Love of the Beach Boys said. “But it was still kind of far out, the depth and breadth of this one show.”



The concert was organized as a series of short sets and medleys, with Jan and Dean serving as hosts — based primarily on availability, according to Dean Torrence. “We were full-time college students, and we lived a couple of miles away,” he said. “So we didn’t need a hotel or a per diem.”



The artists rehearsed for two days (except for Brown, who refused) in the Civic Auditorium, with the Wrecking Crew as the house band. The scene was “chaos pretty much everywhere,” Ms. Gore said. “How the show came off, I don’t know.” The artists were all staying at a run-down motel. “Ultimately it became too difficult to get through the crowds, so we all just wound up staying at the arena,” she said.



Also at rehearsal was a battalion of gyrating dancers, many clad in skimpy bikinis. The go-go action wasn’t easy for all the singers to accept, especially the notoriously awkward Gaye. “That was the funniest thing,” Ms. Wilson said. “Marvin wasn’t very comfortable onstage, so when those dancers came all around him, he was looking around like: ‘What is going on? Who are all these people?’ ”



The show had two full run-throughs, but all the movie footage is taken from a continuous five-hour shoot on the evening of Oct. 29, in front of a delirious, ear-shattering crowd of 3,000, mostly students from the nearby Santa Monica High School.



When filming was about to begin, “Chuck Berry said that he needed to be paid in cash or cashier’s check or he wouldn’t go on, and he was opening the show,” Mr. Binder said. “We had to shut down for an hour while they scrambled to get his money.”



Meanwhile tension was brewing backstage because the Rolling Stones had been granted the final slot of the evening, and Brown was furious. “No one follows James Brown,” he told Mr. Binder. On paper it was a tough call: Brown was largely unknown to the mainstream pop audience, while the Stones had recently landed in the United Sates, the next big British thing on the heels of Beatlemania.



Brown responded by hitting the stage at maximum intensity. His famous cape routine during “Please, Please, Please” — in which his onstage aide draped a leopard cape around Brown’s shoulders and led him toward the wings, only to have him repeatedly shake it off and run back to the microphone — escalated the excitement. Members of the Rolling Stones have often been quoted as saying that going onstage after Brown was the worst decision of their career. In later years they became a bit more circumspect. In “According to the Rolling Stones” Mr. Richards allows that following Brown “did make me a little tight,” but Mick Jagger insisted “we weren’t actually following him, because there were hours in between.”



Darlene Love, who sang backup for some of the acts, said that this delay came because fans would not let Brown off the stage: “It must have taken an hour for everything to calm down enough to bring the Rolling Stones out.” She also recalled some artists laughing at Mr. Jagger’s dancing. “He tried to do what James Brown did, twisting his body,” she said. “Maybe he always did that, but we all fell out.”



After all of the artists returned to the stage for a closing song, “Let’s Get Together,” the filming was finished. Since everything was cut and mixed live, “The T.A.M.I. Show” could be turned around quickly for theatrical release, and the movie had its premiere two weeks later on 33 screens in the Los Angeles area. It had a national release for several months and made its British debut in April of 1965.



And then the mysteries of “The T.A.M.I. Show” truly began. “Sargent was his own worst enemy,” Mr. Binder said of the executive producer, calling him “the perfect prototype” for the Zero Mostel role in “The Producers.” “He could never hang on to his own films.”



According to Mr. Binder, Mr. Sargent, needing cash, started selling off different rights to the movie; Mr. Binder said that he was offered the Far Eastern rights for $1,000. The drive-in horror movie specialists at American International Pictures wound up with the theatrical rights, and Dick Clark acquired the broadcast rights.



Meanwhile Murry Wilson, the Beach Boys’ manager and patriarch, demanded that their performance be cut out of the master print of “The T.A.M.I. Show” as soon as it completed its first theatrical run.



While its legal distribution languished, “The T.A.M.I. Show” became a bootleg favorite. Parts of the show were joined with footage from the less-impressive 1966 follow-up concert, “The Big T.N.T. Show,” and released on VHS in 1982.



Over the years Mr. Clark sought to gather all the rights to “The T.A.M.I. Show” under one roof. Ownership of Dick Clark Productions, however, changed hands, and the project was never quite finished. Orly Adelson, the company’s president, said that when she came on board two years ago, the film was made a top priority. “The show defined an era,” she said. Even the Beach Boys, who had long been asking to have their set reinserted into the film, were granted their wish. Finally Dick Clark Productions signed with the Shout! Factory, which specializes in retro releases, for the DVD, and the path was cleared for the film to return to circulation.



Despite its challenged history, the impact of “The T.A.M.I. Show” was undeniable. Most notably, the film introduced Brown to a white audience; his bookings and record sales were immediately affected, according to Alan Leeds, who worked as Brown’s tour manager starting in the ’60s. “James was always quick to point to it as the focal point of his crossover to a pop audience,” he said.



Mr. Binder said that the integrated lineup — superstars, screaming teenagers, bikini girls and all — was a strong statement itself, a year before the passage of the Voting Rights Act. “White audiences were listening to black artists at the time,” he said, “but they never really saw them.”



Mr. Torrence, still sounding like a surfer boy more than four decades later, summed it up a different way. “It was like a forerunner to Woodstock or something,” he said. “It was pretty dang cool to be a part of it.”



The early '60s were a time of big ideas and big projects, and television producer Bill Sargent was a man of the times. He had a new filming technology called "Electronovision," a precursor of digital cameras, and he decided to showcase it with an all-star rock 'n' roll concert documentary. The performances were given the clumsy title Teenage Awards Music International and the catchy acronym The T.A.M.I. Show. However, Sargent ran out of funds and lost all rights to his project almost immediately, and for decades, it remained the most famous never-seen music show for decades.



The theatrical trailer for The T.A.M.I. Show describes it as a "once-in-a-lifetime experience," and I'm glad to say that's an understatement. The T.A.M.I. Show is a unique concert, never to be repeated. The closest parallel I can think of to its power and range is John Hammond's "From Spirituals to Swing" concerts of 1938 and '39, and those weren't filmed.



The look of the T.A.M.I. Show was also groundbreaking and influential. The bonus commentary from music critic Don Waller and director Steve Binder offers a host of backstage tidbits and fascinating comments. Binder says that what you want out of a filmed concert is the view from front row center, with no weird angles and edits only when there's a reason to do so. And this is what you get with The T.A.M.I. Show. The audience-view perspective is a tradition that continued when Binder later directed Elvis: The '68 Comeback Special, and you can see it in outstanding latter-day concert films like Talking Heads' Stop Making Sense. Binder also offers overdue homage to the lively effect of go-go dancers and tells you which one is Terri Garr as she dances past Marvin Gaye.



There are a few snags in the cavalcade of glories. Marvin Gaye nails his performance, but with repeat views, you notice that, as always, he was horribly tense on stage. Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas is the only blah act on the bill, but milquetoast it is. And you wish the garage-rockers in the Barbarians had been able to feature their slightly later single "Are You a Boy or Are You a Girl?"

The T.A.M.I. Show



But I'd like to underscore three key performances. If I were trying to explain Lesley Gore to somebody, I would direct the person to her T.A.M.I. Show set. She was the biggest star of the show, barely 18 and coming off a string of four Top 10 singles. Despite her shellacked hair and dowdy dress, Gore seethes with leather-jacket girl-group defiance. She equals not just The Shangri-Las, but also Sleater-Kinney with her readings of "You Don't Own Me" and "It's My Party."



And then there's The Beach Boys. The band members' control-kook father kept this footage away from the world for decades, and it was a great disservice to The Beach Boys, because I've never seen them so comfortable with each other on a stage. You want to see Brian Wilson happy and in full voice? "Surfer Girl" is the grail.



Finally, the undeniable consensus is that this is James Brown's single most overwhelming performance on film. The Motowners all have more of an act than the rockers at this stage, but Brown goes beyond. This wasn't spontaneous spasms or mere acting. Brown had learned from Southern gospel services, and what he offered was an ecstatic ritual — minutely choreographic but utterly heartfelt. A passion play of the soul brother reborn and reborn, indestructible. How do you get to transcendent possession on stage? Practice, practice, practice.



Goodbye, grainy bootleg. The T.A.M.I. Show, the most praised, most coveted and perhaps least-viewed concert film in history, is finally resurfacing after 45 years in commercial limbo and underground circulation.



The T.A.M.I. Show: Collector's Edition arrives on DVD with all the sterling performances and '60s flourishes that made it an instant pop-culture lodestar. Since its theatrical release in 1964, the first concert movie of the rock era has never been available in its entirety.



VIDEO

Size.... 1.52gb

Duration.... 01:52:28

Codec.... divx

Frame Width..... 720

Frame Height.... 404

Data Rate.... 1815kbps

Frame Rate.... 29 F/S

AUDIO

Bit Rate.... 128kbps

2 Channel Stereo

Audio Sample Rate.... 48 KHz

Bits Per Sample 16 Bit/Sample



Artist Song Title:

Jan and Dean (Over credits) (Here They Come) from All Over the World

Chuck Berry: Johnny B. Goode, Maybellene

Gerry & The Pacemakers: Maybellene, Don’t Let the Sun Catch You Crying, It's Gonna Be Alright

Chuck Berry: Sweet Little Sixteen

Gerry & The Pacemakers; How Do You Do It?

Chuck Berry: Nadine

Gerry & The Pacemakers: I Like It

(Smokey Robinson and) The Miracles: That's What Love Is Made Of, You've Really Got a Hold on Me, Mickey's Monkey

Marvin Gaye: Stubborn Kind of Fellow, Pride and Joy, Can I Get a Witness, Hitch Hike

Lesley Gore: Maybe I Know, You Don't Own Me, You Didn't Look Around, Hey Now, It's My Party, Judy's Turn to Cry

Jan and Dean: The Little Old Lady from Pasadena, Sidewalk Surfin

The Beach Boys: Surfin' USA, I Get Around. Surfer Girl, Dance, Dance, Dance

Billy J. Kramer and The Dakotas: Little Children, Bad to Me, I'll Keep You Satisfied, From a Window

The Supremes: When the Lovelight Starts Shining, Through His Eyes, Run, Run, Run, Baby Love, Where Did Our Love Go

The Barbarians: Hey Little Bird

James Brown and The Famous Flames: Out of Sight, Prisoner of Love, Please, Please, Please, Night Train

The Rolling Stones: Around and Around, Off the Hook, Time Is on My Side, It's All Over Now, I'm Alright, Let's Get Together