'Just Call Me Maestro' is a tough-as-nails look at the work and sweat and delirium of the professional life of one of the world's musical luminaries. Arthur Fiedler was forever the workaholic showman, and this PBS film gives us a whirlwind look at one celebrity's nightmare of activity, still at it, rougher than ever, at the age of 81. It is a portrait of a man trapped in his work and maintaining his status as one of classical music's high-profile figures.
When he admits in passing that he's guest conducted every major orchestra in the world, his hopelessness, verified by his longtime assistant Harry Ellis Dickson, speaks volumes. Fiedler shows the filmmakers a plaque from the San Francisco Symphony commemorating his 25 years as their regular pops conductor; the achievement apparently means little to him. Between his two pops conductor jobs, amounting to only four months out of the year, he was a free agent for the rest of the year, doing all his own bookings.
He had a dysfunctional relationship with the orchestra he stuck with (or was stuck with); as he grew older he was treated by younger musicians with less than the utmost respect. There's a scene in the documentary in which he deals with the Boston players, who never took him seriously as an authority figure, and he yells one of his signature quotations: "Shame! Shame!"
It is likely he was treated with better respect elsewhere in the world, but there were musicians in Boston he always had trouble dealing with. Many of these folks were about his age, and they were envious of his success. They could remember when he was still one of them, just another viola player in the Boston Symphony. He had every other American orchestra knocking on his door, but to accept any other position would've meant risking his status as a media celebrity.
His behind-the-scenes crew, in reviewing his repertoire for the night, mentions a songfest for seniors, "Old-Timer's Night at the Pops," one of his dreaded, done-to-death specialty numbers. He merely says, "Oh, that's a horror."
Much of the film documents preparations for his US bicentennial concert, considered by some writers to be the pinnacle of his career. To him, it was just another concert.
The entire point for this documentary is summarized in the film's title, "Just Call Me Maestro."
When he admits in passing that he's guest conducted every major orchestra in the world, his hopelessness, verified by his longtime assistant Harry Ellis Dickson, speaks volumes. Fiedler shows the filmmakers a plaque from the San Francisco Symphony commemorating his 25 years as their regular pops conductor; the achievement apparently means little to him. Between his two pops conductor jobs, amounting to only four months out of the year, he was a free agent for the rest of the year, doing all his own bookings.
He had a dysfunctional relationship with the orchestra he stuck with (or was stuck with); as he grew older he was treated by younger musicians with less than the utmost respect. There's a scene in the documentary in which he deals with the Boston players, who never took him seriously as an authority figure, and he yells one of his signature quotations: "Shame! Shame!"
It is likely he was treated with better respect elsewhere in the world, but there were musicians in Boston he always had trouble dealing with. Many of these folks were about his age, and they were envious of his success. They could remember when he was still one of them, just another viola player in the Boston Symphony. He had every other American orchestra knocking on his door, but to accept any other position would've meant risking his status as a media celebrity.
His behind-the-scenes crew, in reviewing his repertoire for the night, mentions a songfest for seniors, "Old-Timer's Night at the Pops," one of his dreaded, done-to-death specialty numbers. He merely says, "Oh, that's a horror."
Much of the film documents preparations for his US bicentennial concert, considered by some writers to be the pinnacle of his career. To him, it was just another concert.
The entire point for this documentary is summarized in the film's title, "Just Call Me Maestro."
