'The Agony And Ecstasy Of Phil Spector' Shows The Humanity, But Relies Too Much On Personality

Everyone is familiar with Phil Spector, whether they know it or not. From being responsible for great songs such as “Da Doo Ron Ron,” for putting together the entire Beatles album Let it Be, or for his presence on trial for the murder of B-movie actress Lana Clarkson. There was much coverage of the trial (this picture of Phil definitely made too many rounds in the office) until he was eventually found guilty in 2009. Although constantly in the news, there was nothing particularly noteworthy in the trial that set it apart from other murder trials, aside from the fact that Spector produced some really great songs/albums and had weird hair. Thus, much of the movie rests on his character, displayed in candid interviews during the trial. He’s definitely an entertaining presence, but can a film really rest on his personality alone? Director Vikram Jayanti believes so, with “The Agony And Ecstasy Of Phil Spector.”

While moving along at a moderate speed, Spector comments on everything from his songs and his childhood to other musicians and celebrities. He has some amusing things to say, but he can’t seem to carry a feature-length film. He’s just not that controversial, not that funny, not that interesting. The structure of the film becomes repetitive, cutting from interview to court footage to music performance. It helps that the songs, such as “Be My Baby” and “To Know Him Is To Love Him” are downright incredible, but so much rides on how entertaining you find Phil Spector’s monologues. There are some giggly moments and some controversial opinions (like how Scorsese’s “Mean Streets” is nothing without the opening song “Be My Baby”), but eventually it wears thin.

Court room scenes seem edited in favor of Spector, and it makes you wonder what the director left out of the film or if the jury is completely biased and moronic. From Clarkson’s friend going to the stand and saying that she was suicidally depressed, to an expert saying the gunshot wound Clarkson had could not have been anything but self inflicted, most of the evidence in Spector’s favor seems perfect. But even the jury could not decide on a verdict at the time, the trial was reopened and he was ultimately found guilty. It’s frustrating to see good evidence go to waste (or to have silly arguments such as “Your limo driver came out and said that you said you killed someone” take precedent), but one can’t help but feel that it’s a little too much manipulation by the director. Focus on the humanity, leave the politics in court.

The interview was conducted during his first trial, and thankfully the director has the respect not to ask questions in relation to the death of Clarkson (or, at least, he doesn’t include them in the film). Because of the nature and mood of the interviews, we’re supposed to like Spector and are meant to feel pity in the various court scenes, especially in the ones that include song analysis. This interesting technique involves an analysis of a song of his, displayed in subtitles under a very subdued Spector in court. The texts often parallel the life of the producer in very eerie ways and adds a great depth to the film, which runs very close to being too simplistic. The technique starts abruptly in the very beginning, at first seeming extremely messy, but the repeated usage becomes quite comfortable and ends up adding a necessary layer to the picture.

He is, indeed, a rather tragic figure, a fantastic producer that will always be remembered now for this murder trial. It’s almost hard not to pity the man, even when he’s comparing himself to Beethoven. We see a side of Spector that was probably lost on the public during his trial, where he seemed to look either goofy, complacent, or both. The stigma of being in a murder trial made us think negatively of him, and this film does a good job in showing us his harmless personality, rounding him out as a human being, regardless if he is actually a murderer or not. For that goal, though, it is quite long and not entertaining enough. Spector, who can perfect a four-minute song, certainly cannot carry a 102-minute film. [C-]