Set in 1953 and traveling to 1985, this lovely and poignant memory play unfolds through the eyes of Clifford, the only son of Gene, a jazz trumpet player, and Terry, an alcoholic mother. Alternating between their New York City apartment and a smoke-filled music club, Clifford narrates the story of his broken family and the decline of jazz as popular entertainment. Clifford recalls the key moments in his life, such as the day when he, fresh out of college, picked up his first unemployment check and was congratulated by Gene and his band mates. Gene's music career on the big band circuit ultimately crumbles with the advent of Elvis and rock-n-roll. Terry begs him to get a nine-to-five job to support the family, but Gene refuses to enter the "straight world" of regular paychecks, mortgages and security. For Gene, who knows jazz better than his own son, music is not just a job; it's his life. Their marriage slowly dissolves and young Clifford is witness to it all. As things worsen, Clifford assumes the role of parent and throws the hopeless Gene out of his mother's apartment. When an adult Clifford visits Gene in a rundown jazz club after years of separation, he requests that the old man play his mother's favorite song, the old standard "Why was I Born?" Clifford then asks, "Dad, why was I born?" It becomes Clifford's last, heart-breaking plea for his father's love.
”You could play me a hundred trumpet solos and I’d know which one is his.”
”Genie on a ballad will break your heart every time.”
”These guys aren’t even an endangered species anymore — it’s too late. There are no more big bands, no territory bands, no more sixty weeks a year on the road, no more jam sessions till dawn in the Cincinnati Zoo. When they go that’ll be it. No one will even understand what they were doing — a fifty year blip on the screen.”
Bittersweet perfection — that’s Side Man. Clifford, our narrator, pulls back the curtain of his life to show the world he’s leaving behind. A virtuoso jazz man father, idiot savant on jazz trumpet, and when not blowing utterly without a clue, a raging, tormented mother whose last dream died years before, and the extended family of ragtag jazz men, junkies, and club waitresses around which this world revolved is what he reveals. It’s funny. It’s tender. It’s brutal.
Clifford narrates his parent’s story from their first meeting up to the ruin of the present. He slides easily backwards and forwards in time without missing a beat. He breaks the fourth wall as other characters take note. The world he reveals is in its final moment of twilight, just before full dark, yet somehow it never seemed to have a dawn. It’s a tragic story, gently told for laughs and tears, but mostly tears.
As a young man I followed the call of the theatre to the vivid streets of New York. I remember seeing the marquee for this show and hearing the buzz about, but it was not one I ever got to experience for myself. To be honest I don’t really know that I had any idea of what this play was. I mean I knew it was about a trumpet player, but that barely scratches the surface of what is here. This play is heartbreaking, hilarious, and tragic. I wish I had seen it, but reading it all these years later, with the context of age, I was blown away. Do yourself a favor, follow the side man.
I loved the production I saw from PTC (Philadelphia Theater Company) sometime in the late 1990s. As many have highlighted, the moment when the sidemen listen, transfixed, to a Clifford Brown recording was transcendent. It was something I had never seen before. It was sublime.
Twenty years later I got around to reading the play. It's perfect. It hits every note and knows when to get off the stage.
This brought me back to high school, when I was a part of this play. Such a heavy story for high schoolers! It was fun to revisit, really heavy though.
It wasn’t until I read the cast list that I realized I had seen the original Broadway production of Side Man. I don’t mean that as a slight to the play. It’s simply that Edie Falco was so fantastic that she’s the only detail I remember about that play (well, that and the music – I remember how much I liked how the music intertwined with the story). But mostly, I remember watching Ms. Falco and being stunned she wasn’t better known. Shortly thereafter, she was cast on The Sopranos.
I’m glad I read Side Man all of these years later. While I generally don’t like plays dealing with dysfunctional families, I like this one. A lot. Partially because Mr. Leight gives the play more depth, and the dysfunctional family is one part of a much bigger story. The back-and-forth in time, the use of a narrator: everything comes together to create a complete story and world.
The music, though, and how it informs the play – the fact that it’s one of two details that stick in my head all of these years later – makes it a play worth seeing live. But it’s worth reading, too, because it puts the words front-and-center and allows readers to appreciate what a touching story Mr. Leight crafted. Recommended.
Saw the Broadway production. I remember coming home and putting some Clifford Brown on the box - specifically the "last" recording (which actually wasn't the last, but the legend is a good one) referred to in the play - and some Don Joseph. I'm sure that's part of what Warren Leight intended the play to inspire people to do.
When I took this book from the shelf to post here, I found a Playbill inside and also a N.Y. Times obituary for Donald Leight, Warren Leight's father, who was the main inspiration for the play. I'm occasionally amazed at what I've placed inside books and then discover at a much later date. Who knows? Perhaps after I've passed someone will find this book somewhere - if it doesn't just get tossed in the trash - always a possibility - and be interested in the papers to be found inside.
Yes, the 'son of crazy parents' story has been told over and over again... but when you set it against the fall of jazz - it takes on a new meaning. I think this play works better in production than on the page, however. If you haven't seen this play, you should. It's funny and heartbreaking and leaves you wanting to go out and find all the jazz you can your hands on to listen to.
Yet another depressing Tony-winner. At least this one was well-written and had a little bit of something to say about the weird sort of loneliness of the dedicated artist. That and it named a bunch of excellent jazz songs I'd never (consciously) heard before.
I'm not sure how I got a hold of this play, but I'm glad I found it on my bookshelf. I'm definitely going to check out some of the jazz musicians that were mentioned.