Marianne & Leonard: A lasting love
BY LINCOLN ANDERSON
The new documentary “Marianne
& Leonard: Words of Love” reportedly
may not break much
new ground for hardcore Leonard Cohen
fans. But it nonetheless paints a riveting
and thought-provoking portrait of
the artist and Marianne Ihlen, his Norwegian
“muse,” from their idyllic time
together on the Greek island of Hydra
in their 20s all the way to the end of
their lives.
After achieving notoriety as a poet
in his native Canada, Cohen bought
a house on Hydra — which sported a
bohemian artist enclave — and tried to
make a go of it as a novelist. He met
Ihlen in a cafe and soon they were living
together.
Baking on his porch in the hot sun
while hammering away at his typewriter
on speed, Cohen cranked out “Beautiful
Losers.” Meanwhile, Ihlen did the
shopping and adored him. But the book
received mixed reviews.
Instead, Cohen switched to songwriting.
With an assist from Judy Collins,
who promoted him, his brooding,
romantic compositions and inscrutable
mystique soon made him a star.
Cohen asked Ihlen to come join him
living in New York City, but the doors
to fame had been fl ung open for him,
and he jumped through lustily. We learn
about how, while Cohen was trysting
with Janis Joplin “on an unmade bed”
at the Chelsea Hotel, Ihlen was in the
dark about it all.
Providing a knowing, humorous commentary
on Cohen is Aviva Layton, the
wife of his great friend the Canadian
poet Irving Layton. Basically, she explains,
Cohen is the type of man that all
women want — but that none can have.
Indeed, Cohen bounced from relationship
to relationship throughout his life.
We also learn about how the legacy
of Hydra was like a curse for its bohemian
artists and their families, who
were racked by substance abuse and
other problems. A thread of madness
runs through the fi lm, starting with
Cohen’s mother.
We see entertaining footage of Cohen
on tour, showing his lighter, playful side
with bandmates, a stark contrast to his
stoic stage presence. Ron Cornelius, his
guitarist — and a doppelganger for Bill
Clinton — recalls they were taking so
much Mandrax (Quaaludes) on tour,
that one night he literally faceplanted
onstage. And then there were the 23
straight nights of dropping acid.
Marianne Ihlen and Leonard Cohen stepping out on Hydra.
We see a brief clip of Cohen during
his Upstate Buddhist-retreat phase,
where he is the servant of a seemingly
crotchety monk.
Cohen is the type
of man all women
want.
The movie’s director, Nick Broomfi
eld, is an experienced fi lmmaker,
known for his documentaries, whose
credits include “Monster in a Box,”
“Heidi Fleiss: Hollywood Madam,”
“Kurt and Courtney,” “Biggie & Tupac”
and “Sarah Palin: You Betcha!” among
many others.
Broomfi eld himself also had a shortlived
affair with Ihlen, whom he recalls
as having a knack for helping people
identify their true skill. She encouraged
him to get into documentary fi lmmaking.
The director also artfully uses archival
footage of Ihlen sailing off of Hydra
by D.A. Pennebaker. These gauzy shots
evoke the feel of an earlier, faraway
paradise.
It’s hard not to feel a bit sad about
Ihlen’s fate. She does go on to return
to Norway and marry a Norwegian
man and get an offi ce job. Through the
years, Cohen continued to invite her to
his shows. And we see her in the audience
at one show in their later years,
smiling and singing right along to his
jaunty breakup song to her, “So Long,
Marianne.”
The two died just months apart from
each other in 2016. Cohen was 82 and
Ihlen, 81.
A little online reading reveals that
Ihlen gave Cohen the central image for
one of his most famous songs, “Bird on
a Wire.” She had seen a bird sitting on
a telephone line, and said it looked like
a musical note, and suggested he do a
song about it.
In a side note, after the movie’s release,
Bono and his family, while “island
hopping,” visited Cohen’s former
home on Hydra and posted a photo and
slightly doctored lyrics to “Bird on a
Wire” on the U2 Instagram page.
This movie gives one a lot to think
about, about creativity and relationships,
Cohen’s music, career and
psyche, endings — endings that are not
really endings — life itself and aging.
We are left with the haunting, somewhat
faded and blurry image of Marianne
on the gently bobbing sailboat,
with the yellow sun burning over the
silver-sparkling Aegean sea — a moment
in time in two complex lives.
As one fi lmgoer at the Angelika Film
Center recently said, as the credits
started to roll, “That was a beautiful
fi lm.”
Schneps Media TVG July 25, 2019 19