Danny Clinch
Picture In A Frame

The account of a journey through Italy. That's what the beautiful documentary "Picture in a Frame" seems to be, in which around two hours of fragments from the five concerts held by the Pearl Jam in our country in 2006 are gathered. Today, the band is seen by detractors as a group on its last legs, almost pathetic dinosaurs still trying to be rock at 40.

The Pearl Jam had accustomed us to mammoth productions (the endless series of bootlegs, seven-CD box sets, etc.), this time they keep it a bit light, and we like it this way too. Fundamental pieces of their career are missing; among the tracks on the DVD, the absence of Black, Daughter, Once, Spin the Black Circle stands out.
There is a preference for paying homage to the latest, criticized, studio album. Which, however, has a good drive because Life Wasted, Come Back, Severed Hand could be standout tracks for any other group, and the same pieces, performed live, manage the difficult task of not paling excessively in front of the peaks (in the writer's opinion "VS" and "Vitalogy," especially) of Pearl Jam's production.
But there is a strange alchemy that ties these framed images. I don't know what it is, but those who waited, jumped, screamed, and rejoiced at the opening riff of Yellow Ledbetter surely know better than I do. It's the same alchemy that leads to few other musical gatherings where you hear an old friend met at university saying, "damn, they did Black in Milan, not in Bologna... well, hopefully, they'll do it in Pistoia... I took another day off!"

Considering it's an optometric review perhaps the only thing one can say about this documentary is that everything is duly calibrated. The direction never feels invasive and has the merit of never diverting our eye and ear from the subject. Danny Clinch's photographic eye comes to light only if we pause for a moment on the colors, changing and stark at the same time. The camera, in the relaxing moments between concerts, in the pauses of the backstage, moves as if filming an involuntary reality show, as if Clinch were the first fan and was there somewhat by chance.

Beautiful fragments, beautiful photographs of a tour that indeed seems like a getaway; memorable is that of an old Bolognese man who in front of San Petronio talks about the lack of brain cells that afflicts the human race to Mike McCready (but the ultimate would have been an encounter between Peppe Maniglia and Mike himself, considering they are guitarists ... !!!)
Even more amusing is that of another elderly man, director of a music school in Pistoia, who in the cathedral asks Eddie: "But why Pistoia, it's such a small city. Why Pistoia?" And the composed and realistic leader responds, "We go where they tell us to go..."

We, on the other hand, who don’t have record labels, programmer managers, and have free will, can choose where to go. And if the Eels don't arrive nearby soon, I'll have to go back to see these dinosaurs, these Pearl Jam gasbags.
Between us, I can't wait!