Forgotten Movie Songs #11: "A Boy Named Charlie Brown" from A BOY NAMED CHARLIE BROWN

I've always been a fan of Charles Schulz's barely-veiled version of himself, Charlie Brown. Of course, Charlie first came to life on television in 1965, via the holiday perennial A Charlie Brown Christmas. But it took four years for this success to hit the big screen. In 1969's A Boy Named Charlie Brown, our hero dares to take on the challenges of the school spelling bee, making it all the way to the state finals, with gloriously predictable results.

A lot of people have nothing but bad things to say about the big-screen Peanuts movies. But I still love them (I think the franchise should be revived a la the upcoming Winnie the Pooh, which looks brilliant). A Boy Named Charlie Brown has many fine moments, my favorite being this magnificently colorful tribute to the piano-playing Schroeder and his idol, the imposing Ludwig Von Beethoven (who composed the accompanying "Moonlight Sonata"); I seriously think this is one of the greatest animated sequences in movie history--right up there with anything in Fantasia, which is obviously an influence here:

But I must give credit to Rod McKuen. He wrote and performed the first song heard in A Boy Named Charlie Brown, and thus garnered his second Oscar nomination (the same year, he was nominated for Best Song for performing his tune "Jean" on the soundtrack for the Oscar-winning The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie). He was nominated also that year for contributing to the Charlie Brown soundtrack, but was there relegated to the Best Original Song Score category. Thus, this track meets my Forgotten Movie Songs criteria for not being an (a) top 40 hit, or (b) being an Oscar nominee.

Even in watching the following clip again--which suitably begins Bill Melendez's feature film--I'm moved by both McKuen's scratchy vocal performance and his undeniably syrupy-sweet song (wonderfully arranged by John Scott Trotter). While being a tad unctuous, I think McKuen's words still perfectly express what all fans truly feel about Charlie Brown, and so I decided to include his song here. It deserves to be a Tony Bennett-styled standard, in my opinion.

The song is called "A Boy Named Charlie Brown," and the music and lyrics are performed by Rod McKuen (who was endlessly referenced henceforth in Schulz's daily comic strip).



Like the shadows of the morning
That climb up to the August afternoon
Charlie has a way
Of pickin' up the day
Just by walkin' slowly in a room

Maybe it’s a kind of magic
That only little boys can do
But seeing Charlie smile
Can make you stop a while
And get you feeling glad you’re you

He’s only a boy named Charlie
A boy named Charlie Brown

He’s just the kid next door
Perhaps a little more
He’s every kid in every town

Well, the world is full of lots of people
Here and there and all around
But people after all
Start out as being small
And we’re all a boy named Charlie Brown

Now the shadows of the morning
Have gone beyond the August afternoon
And Charlie's had his day
His very special day
His morning and his evening and his noon

The world is full of lots of people
Here and there and all around
But people after all
Start out as being small
And we’re all a boy named Charlie Brown

Forgotten Movie Songs #10: "A Friend" from W.W. AND THE DIXIE DANCEKINGS

I haven't seen John G. Avildsen's W.W. and the Dixie Dancekings since it played on cable back in the early 1980s. Before that, it made an impression on me as a fun, very Southern-flavored musical romp. I watched it first at the Southeast Expressway Drive-In in Atlanta, GA, in 1975, probably on a double bill with another Burt Reynolds movie (my recollection is the second feature was Reynolds' moonshine action movie White Lightning).

Since it's been so long since I've seen the film, I can't confidently comment too deeply on why I love it so. But I can tell you I DO love it. The movie swirls together superstar Reynolds and neewcomer Jerry Reed, stirs in the cute Conny Van Dyke and taciturn country music mainstay Don Williams (in his only feature film appearance), adding here-and-there dashes of character actors James Hampton and Rick Hurst as the remaining Dancekings, then kicks it all up a notch with two superb Southern-fried villains in Ned Beatty (as the colorfully-named Country Bull) and Art Carney (playing the nasty Deacon John Wesley Gore, right after his 1974 Oscar win as the lead in Paul Mazursky's Harry and Tonto). With all of this, the film HAS to be worth checking out again, or for the first time.

Unfortunately, W.W. and the Dixie Dancekings isn't available to see, because it hasn't been released to DVD, but it's certainly a time capsule that deserves to be reopened. One of its major assets are the songs by Jerry Reed, a country star making his screen debut and who, in 1977, entered icon territory as Reynolds' truck-driving buddy Cledus in Smokey and the Bandit). In W.W., Reed plays the leader of a country bar band who's taken to the top via the deviant management of true believer Reynolds, who endearingly rocks and chuckles his way throughout the entire film. W.W. and The Dixie Dancekings was a major hit in the South (especially at the drive-ins) and was the film that preceded director Avildsen's Oscar win for another little movie called Rocky.

The song "A Friend" echoes throughout the entire film, and becomes an anthem for the goodtime feelings contained within the film. It's still a rousing, even moving song. The music and lyrics are written by Jerry Reed (who also provides the chunky guitar work) and the vocals are shared, suitably, by Reed, Van Dyke, and Williams. My apologies for the poor video quality:



Now this ol' life ain't somethin'
That you live on by yourself
There always comes a time you need a friend
Sometimes this world can get so heavy
And the road can get so long
That you need someone to lend a helping hand

Well, I learned life the hard way
I took all my knocks and lumps
But when I look back down the road at where I been
I can see that all the things I done
In this ol' life have been more fun
Cause I shared them with someone who was a friend

You've got to care 'bout one another
Be a friend and be a brother
Cause you're always gonna need someone
That you can lean on
Got to help each other out
That's what this life is all about
'Cause there ain't no way that you can make
This journey alone

Well, I guess it's time for lookin'
'Cause I been there and back
Yes, I seen life 'bout every which way you can
But as far as I'm concerned
The greatest thing that a man could learn
Is when you're down it's great to turn to a friend

Well, I guess it's time for lookin'
'Cause I been there and back
Yes, I seen life 'bout every which way you can
But as far as I'm concerned
The greatest thing that a man could learn
Is when you're down it's great to turn to a friend
Turn to a friend.

Forgotten Movie Songs #8: "Moondust" from MEATBALLS

In the late 70s and way into the 80s, composer Elmer Bernstein was the comedy filmmaker's go-to guy. The legendary composer had been providing music for movies and television since the early 50s, and most of the titles were serious affairs like The Tin Star, Sweet Smell of Success, Walk on the Wild Side, The Magnificent Seven, To Kill A Mockingbird, Summer and Smoke, Hud, Birdman of Alcatraz and 1969's True Grit. But, in 1978, he delivered a particularly witty score to the smash hit National Lampoon's Animal House. Since the maker of that film--John Landis--pretty much owned American comedy cinema

after 1978, Bernstein was tapped again to provide scores for Landis' subsequent films Trading Places, An American Werewolf in London, Spies Like Us, Three Amigos! and The Blues Brothers. And other comedy voices requested Bernstein's services as well: he did both Airplane! movies for Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker, and formed a fruitful partnership with Canadian producer/director Ivan Reitman.

Reitman had produced Animal House, so I suppose you could posit that he's perhaps a more important figure regarding this shift in Bernstein's career. Every time a Reitman movie popped up--Ghostbusters, Legal Eagles, or Stripes, to name only a few--you could bet that Bernstein would be there to write both songs and an underscore for the movies. This was certainly also so for Reitman's 1979 comedy Meatballs, starring a young Saturday Night Live veteran named Bill Murray in his film debut. This messy, raucous but ultimately sweet, very Canadian movie about one summer at the somewhat mismanaged Camp North Star featured the loosey-goosey Murray heading a cast of young unknowns playing both kids and counselors (only the lead kid, played by Chris Makepeace, went on to do anything significant--he was the star of Tony Bill's excellent 1980 tween-comedy My Bodyguard).

Meatballs still holds a place in my heart as perhaps the most sentimental of all the Bernstein-scored comedies. God knows I like me some sentiment, if it's used correctly. One of my favorite moments in the film has Murray taking all the camp counselors out for a night away from their young charges, where they can "smoke and drink and fool around" by the light of an island campfire. Bernstein contributed a few songs to the film (including the rabblerousing, kid-chorused "Are You Ready For The Summer?"), but the song he and his well-seasoned lyricist Norman Gimbel chose to accompany this romantic interlude was the perfectly gentle "Moondust." Sung in a Charlie Rich-like baritone by Canadian vocalist Terry Black, it coaxes the kind of tears you might get while experiencing what you're sure is one of your life's happiest moments. This tune radiates love and friendship. On the Meatballs soundtrack, it's understandably reprised again at the end of the film, when everyone's saying bittersweet goodbyes at summer's end. It's an affecting lullaby--obviously influenced by Johnny Mercer's "Stardust"--and certainly lovely enough to make this list of movie songs that need more recognition.

It's called "Moondust." Music by Elmer Bernstein, lyrics by Norman Gimbel, and performed by Terry Black:



Let’s say it was the moondust
That drifted down from heaven
To fall upon your shoulders
And nestle in your eyes

Let’s say it was the moondust
With all its ancient powers
Much more than any mortal
Ever could devise

And it made me love you
And it made me never want to go away
And it made me helpless
And it made me always wanna stay that way

Let’s say it was the moondust
That hides behind the moonlight
That fell and set us free
With its moondust melody

And it made me love you
And it made me never want to go away
And it made me helpless
And it made me always wanna stay that way

Let’s say it was the moondust
That hides behind the moonlight
That fell and set us free
With its moondust melody
And set us free
With its moondust melody