Fresh Air - Remembering Irish singer–songwriter Glen Hansard

Episode Date: July 31, 2026

Irish musician Glen Hansard, best-known for his band The Frames and his part in the 2007 film ‘Once,’ died July 29 in a motorcycle crash. He was 56. Hansard got his start busking in the streets of Dublin. Ironically, it was his headmaster who urged him to drop out of school to pursue music. He spoke with Terry Gross in 2008, with his ‘Once’ co-star Markéta Irglová. Their song from the film, “Falling Slowly,” won an Oscar for Best Original Song. Also, Kevin Whitehead pays tribute to Tony Bennett, who would have been 100 next week, and film critic Justin Chang reviews ‘I Want Your Sex.’ Subscribe to our free weekly newsletter Follow us on Instagram Subscribe to our YouTube channel Check out the Fresh Air ArchivesSee pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

This is Fresh Air. I'm David B. and Cooley. Glenn Hansard, the Irish singer-songwriter who got his start busking on the streets of Dublin and later became famous for playing a Dublin street musician in the Irish film once, died Wednesday from a motorcycle crash. He was 56. Irish President Catherine Connolly said Hansard would be remembered as one of Ireland's great singer-songwriters. Bruce Springsteen, who invited Hansard in 2013 to join him on stage during a show in Kilkenny said, Here on E Street, we are heartbroken.

We met in Ireland many years ago, and he was nothing but a great musician, a good friend, and a generous and gracious man. Glenn Hansard formed the rock band The Frames in the 1990s, made his film debut in The Commitments, playing guitarist Outspan Foster, and won an Oscar for co-writing the song Falling Slowly for the film Once,

in which he starred as a struggling musician. The movie was later adapted into a Tony Award-winning musical. Hansard went on to release a number of albums as a solo artist, and he was an advocate for the homeless, performing at an annual Dublin Christmas Eve busk to raise money for people at risk of homelessness. The low-budget indie Irish film that became an international success, titled Once, was written and directed by John Carney,

who previously had been in Hansard's band The Frames. Hansard wrote the music for the movie. In 2008, Terry Gross spoke with Glenn Hansard and with Czech singer Marquetta or Glova, who co-starred in the film. Let's begin with the Oscar-winning song Falling Slowly, which they co-wrote. I want you all the more words fall through me

and always fool and I come. Glenn Hansard, that never amount, two more than their meant, will play themselves. Glenn Hansard, Marquetta Urglova, welcome to Fresh Air.

Congratulations on the Oscar and all the success you've had with once. You co-wrote, Falling Slowly. Had you ever written a song together before writing for the film? No, that was actually the first song we wrote together. And it was one of those things where I'd been working on the song. And I wasn't really sure where I was going with it.

All I had was, you know, it was diverse. And I had an idea for the chorus. And it was only when I sat down with Marr and I played her the idea because I was talking about a harmony in the chorus. And she said, well, what if you take the lower one or you take the higher one and I'll take the lower one. And, you know, on the moment where it goes, we've still got time.

And it was for me that was like the key of what, made the song suddenly work. And then so I wrote the chorus with Marr. And then I really felt like we had a solid song in her hand. And it was something that I could give to John and feel confident with. Glenn, you pointed out that the movie was not written with you in mind as the performer or with Marquetta in mind. Killian Murphy was supposed to be the star of the film, but he had to back out at the last minute. So I guess that's how you ended up being cast yourself. Yeah, I mean, what happened was that Killian, Killian was involved in the project all along,

and Killian likes the frames, and so he was happy to sing my songs. But I think some of the songs that turned in, I think Killian probably felt a little bit, Killian's a great singer, but I think he felt a bit unprepared for some of the, because John, the songs that John chose were some of the more dynamically, like a vocally challenging songs,

because I just gave John a bunch of songs, and he chose which ones he liked, which ones he didn't. And I think Killian got a little bit sensitive about me, possibly about the idea of singing a few of these songs and being able to sort of do them justice. And I remember making the suggestion that I was like, I'll change the keys, I'll make it work.

Because for me, having the job of writing the songs, I just wanted to keep my gig. And so I was like, I'll change the keys, I'll do whatever Killian needs in order to make these songs work. And I think possibly what happened was that Killian just got offered another job and then maybe took it. But once Killian pulled out, John was left in a very, I guess he was kind of stranded because the producers pulled out once Killian pulled out

and then suddenly this project which was about to film in a month or two suddenly had no money. And this is kind of where things got exciting for us because John had already cast Marr, Killian had backed out on him, the producers had backed out on him, but he still had a crew booked and he still had a shoot day. And so he had to sort of figure out, do I drop this project and move on to another idea I had? or do I try to make this work somehow? And we all sat down together because I was involved in the project as a songwriter, we all sat down together and we sort of,

I guess we all tried to figure out what to do. And I got really excited about the idea of making the film as cheaply as possible. And it also meant that we could, you know, we figured out how to do it. So we wouldn't use lights. We'd shoot, instead of shooting, there was talk of originally shooting the film on film.

Let's shoot it on DV. And let's instead of, you know, instead of, you know, hiring the cameras, let's just buy two cameras. Let's just do it all handheld. old. Let's just bring our own clothes. Let's do this. Let's just do this thing super, super minimalist. And let's hire someone real cheap like Glenn Hansard. Yeah. Oh yeah. I forgot about that element. Yeah. And let's just get me to do it. Let's just get me made to do it.

And when John approached me to do it, I was kind of nervous. I must admit, I wasn't, I didn't really like the idea because I just didn't feel like I could pull it off. But then John kind of put to me, he said, look, no one's going to sing these songs like you do because you wrote them. He says, I'm forced into the choice of having two actors who can probably half sing or two musicians who can half act. And he says, if it's a musical film, I'd rather have two musicians who can half act. And I'll get a performance out of you. And he says, as long as the music's convincing, I think people are going to believe it. So that was kind of his gamble. Let's hear another song that you co-wrote together for once.

And this is, if you want me. And Glenn, why don't you describe how the song is used in the film? Well, there was one... John wanted to have one song in the film that was basically a throwback or a salute to the classic musical. We decided a couple of things in the beginning. We said, whenever there's a song in this film,

let's have the entire song. And also, whenever there's a song in this film, let's have it be absolutely live in the moment. You're playing the song in front of them so that there isn't this whole idea of playback and, you know, they need mime. So the idea was that Marr's character, the batteries would go

in her CD player and that she would basically sing over music that I would have supposedly written and it was going to be a John wanted basically just to do a singing in the rain moment where it was a real musical moment and so we hired a crane and basically we just walked up the street

with Marr that whole evening and I think it really does work in the film but that is the one moment where we're miming. Yeah but it's also a moment where you get to actually know something about the girl because I think through the songs that the male character plays you get to know something about his personality, you know, something

that you probably wouldn't get to know about a person in one and a half hour. And so you get that little chance with that song that the girl sings as well, which works very well, I think. So let's hear it if you want and this will give us a chance to hear Marquetta's voice. This is Glenn Hansard

and Marquetta Urglover from the soundtrack of their film once. Are you really here or am I dreaming? I can tell dreams from truth for it's been so long since I have seen you I can hardly remember your face anymore when I get really low and the distance calls is only silence I

Oh, you smile. I'll lower that side. That's if you want me from the soundtrack of the film Once. My guest co-wrote the song and also starred in the film. Glenn Hansard and Marquetta Erglova are my guess. Since neither of you were really actors when you started making once, although Glenn you had a part in the commitments as a member of the band. Did you go seeking advice from people about how to act

or how to behave in front of a camera, did you just learn from doing it? And if you got advice, like, what's the best thing that you were each told that actually helped you? Well, the thing that I was told, and I can't remember who told me right now,

somebody said to me, just remember that Marlon Brando was always Marlon Brando. He wasn't, like, the reason people hired him to be in films is because he was Marlon Brando. And, you know, and I kind of like the idea

that no matter what character you're playing, no matter whether you embody it or not. And there were many different styles of acting. Of course, there are many different styles. But this was the thing that I always, that resonated with me most, was the fact that just be yourself and embody the character. And I think that for me, that meant that my, I guess, my range as an actor was probably quite limited.

And let's face it, I was pretty much playing myself in this film. You know, I am a street musician. I was a street musician. I fixed bicycles and not Hoover's. John changed that detail, I guess. When I went to the bank to get my first loan for the frames, the bank manager took out his guitar and played me a song. So there are many details in this guy's life that are very similar to my own.

So I guess for myself, it wasn't so difficult to embody this guy. I think if I was given a more challenging role, I might find it a lot more difficult. And as well, we were making this film. I was making this film with Marr, who was a good friend of mine. And also with John Carney, he was in my band. It was a very close friend of mine. So I felt very, very comfortable with these people.

It felt like it felt like a bunch of friends making a film over the weekend more than it felt like being involved in a big artistic challenge. I want to play a scene from the beginning of once. And this is a scene where, Glenn, you're playing on the street for money, but no one's paying any attention to you at all. And until Marquetta, you walk over and start asking him questions about himself and the music. Here's the scene. This song you just play, you write it?

Working on it. It's not an established song? No, it's not an established song. How come you're playing during daytime? I see you every day. You know, during the day, people want to hear songs they know, just songs that they recognize them, and otherwise I wouldn't make any money.

I play these songs at night. They wouldn't listen. I listen. Yeah, but you give me 10 cent. What are you doing for money then? Why don't you get a job in a shop? I'll have a job in a shop. Listen, I'm gonna get back to this, yeah.

Nice to meet you. Would you write this song for her, please? No one. Well, shit. Where is she? She's gone. She's dead? No, she's not dead.

He's gone. You love her still? Jesus, man. You're over? rubbish. No one will write this song is over her. I'm telling you. You play this marvellous song to her, you get her back.

I don't want her back. Glenn, you started out off as a street musician when you were in your teens. You dropped out of high school to play on the streets. Where did you choose to play? Like, what was a good street for you in Dublin? Well, for me, Grafton Street was the... It was a bit like in Dublin, if you can imagine,

if, you know, the microcosm of your life, I suppose. For me, I lived on the north side of the city. So Grafton Street was on the south side of the city. and that for me made most sense because it meant that I wouldn't bump into anybody from school and that I wouldn't bump into any of my mother's friends or my mother indeed because my mother was a fruit seller on Moore Street

which is on north side of the city and I wanted to get as far away from anybody I knew as possible. So I went over to Graffin Street and also Graffin Street was kind of the more posh part of Dublin so the chances of me having a career or getting beyond just being a street musician where I had better chances if you like on the south side of the city.

city because that's kind of where all the artists lived and, you know, so I went over there and it was a great, for me, it was the beginning of a whole new education. I mean, I left school at 13. I went over there. The day I left school, I went busking and what started was a, I met a man who sold magazines on the street. His name was Pete. And Pete was a, you know, he was, he prided himself on the fact that he was a Dylanologist. You know, he loved Dylan and loved everything about. And because I was such a Dylan fan, this guy took me seriously because I was playing Dylan songs that weren't necessarily, you know, the ones from the greatest hits record. And so this guy took an interest in me,

and I guess took me under his wing, and I remember going and living with him for a while, and he took me around to, like, poetry readings. And pretty much from there on, I remember meeting this lady Philippa Garner, who was kind of a famous painter in Ireland, and she took me out to her house in Kildare, which was in the countryside.

She lived in an all-converted schoolhouse that she had rebuilt, and I went and lived with her for two years. And really a whole new education began. I remember staying at Seamus Heaney's house when I was a kid, and getting to hang out with poets, and other musicians was really the basis of my artistic beginnings.

So what's the best thing that happened to you on the streets? Well, for me, I guess, overall, it was my education. I learned how to sing on Grafton Street. I learned how to entertain. When you're on the street, you're a still point. You're part of the architecture. You're a little bit... And if you stand still on any street in any city,

in any country in the world, if you stand still long enough, every single person in that city will pass. pass you by. So like, you know, I'd be buskin and Van Morrison would walk past as I was singing a Van Morrison song or, you know, Bono would go by or, you know, all. Really? Oh, yeah, absolutely. Okay, so Van Morrison was walking by. What do you do? Do you say, excuse me? Not at all. No, with someone like Van, you would just give him his space. And actually, ironically, the reason, I guess he was passing by was because we were, myself and my friend

were busking together and we were singing, because Van songs are amazing to Busk. So one day We were busking playing one of his songs and he passed by. But actually, the irony was that we were busking enough money to go see him that night. So actually, we ended up busking up enough money to go see him. And the same thing happened us with you too. We were busking up the money to go see them one time and we saw them the same day, which is very interesting. So, Glenn, when you dropped out of school at the age of, what, 14 so that you could perform on the streets, what did your parents think of that?

Well, I'm very lucky in that my mother, again, my mother was very, very liberal. grew up in a very, very tight household where she had to be home at a certain time and had, you know, she had 12 brothers and sisters and I guess if the family had to keep everybody, you know, heard them together, I guess, if you like, so my mother grew up in the 60s, you know, and so during that time she wanted, she wanted basically to give her kids the freedom that she never had. So my mother was like very, very liberal. She said to me, anytime you need, you know, if you want to, you know, when I came home to her and said, Mar, I really want to do music, my mother just said, we'll do it then.

and she said, well, do it. And if you're going to do it, do it properly, so go, you know, go earn a living from it and do it and getting really evolved in it. So I was lucky. And my dad, my dad was, you know, I guess my dad was one of those guys who was, he worked hard, but he was a hard drinking man

and didn't, and supported us in whatever we wanted to do, but didn't really play much of a role in our lives except to say, yeah, fair play, do you son, go for it. You know, so my dad was, I guess, was on board with it too. I was very, very lucky. I mean, my headmaster in school, my head teacher, he was a great guy. I was in his office so many times

and we talked and talked and I guess he was a smart guy he figured out that music was the one subject I really enjoyed talking about and because he was in his part in his spare time he was a DJ and so myself and himself would talk about Dylan and Cohen and Neil Young

and all the stuff that really impassioned me and he basically said to me one day he called me down to the office and he says Glenn you know what you're in this school you're not learning a thing you're frustrating all of the teachers and I know you love music so I have an idea why don't you go, take your guitar, go over to Graffin Street or go to any street you want, but start your musical career at the very bottom today.

He said, you know, go and go and, you know, take your guitar out. And if in a year you're not enjoying it or it's not working out for you, come back to school and I'll figure out a way you're getting you back into class and you can continue your education. He says, but I don't think that your education is going anywhere here. He says, you know, he says, you can tell me all the musicians who played on John Wesley Harding or you can tell me who produced the first two Leonard Cohen records, but you can't tell me the square root of nine.

And he says, so you're not really very good to us here, and I'd like to see you succeed. So he sent me home that day to take my guitar and go to the Grafton Street. And when I went home, I said to my mother, I dropped my school back in the hall, and I said to my mother, now I'm going to start my career as a musician. And my mother was like, what, really? And I was like, yeah, she's, well, we'll go for it, son, and good luck.

Glenn Hansard and Marquetta Urglova, speaking to Terry Grover. in 2008. Glenn Hanser died Wednesday in a motorcycle accident at age 56. We'll hear more after a break. Also, Kevin Whitehead has an appreciation of Tony Bennett. Monday marks the centenary of his birth. I'm David B. and Cooley, and this is fresh air. Well, I've not been, not a starling.

No, I've not been straight at all. Well, I beg your pardon. The night we jumped to McCormick's wall I was so happy just to be with you I'd have said anything at all Now I could scream your name Try past the blame But I know you won't respond

Well here we are What's there to do La'd and die I'm gonna ride Black River This is Fresh Air. I'm David B. and Cooley. We're listening to Terry's 2008 interview with singer-songwriter's Glenn Hansard and Marquetta Urglova. They co-starred in the 2007 Irish film called Once about two street musicians. Hansard wrote the music for it, and they both co-wrote the film's Oscar-winning song, Falling Slowly. Hansard and Erglova went on to perform off-screen as the duo Sweewe. season and for a time were a couple. Hansard

died Wednesday at the age of 56. How did you both meet? Me and Glenn? Yeah. Well, it was a case of my father helping a man that lives in Ireland get this Irish band over to

Czech public in Slovakia for a few gigs. And he was the guy that would kind of help out on the Czech side because he obviously speaks Czech and English, so he'll be able to communicate and get venues to be helpful. And so he basically helped organize a few gigs that the frames had around the area. And because he did do that when the band came over, they just kind of came to our house

and we organized a party for them in our garden. And that was where we met, basically, around the fire playing songs and singing along. And my mother cooked this big feast. So we met in a really lovely way where my family, my family, would basically invite the whole bunch, which was about 12 people over to the house, and befriend Glenn and the band. So then Glenn would just keep coming to the house because of my mother's cooking and stuff. So it's a very funny way of us being.

But throughout the years, we would have become friends. I want to ask you about another scene from once. There's a great scene in what I think is a pub. It almost looks like a living room, but I think it's actually like a small pub. And everybody's kind of eating dinner and drinking. And the rule of the game here is that you have to be able to sing to be in. on this dinner and people just kind of alternate singing. And there's a kind of middle-aged woman and a middle-aged man, or slightly older man, who sing a few bars in this sequence. And they have really

interesting voices and I was wondering, like, who are they? And is this based on a real pub in Dublin? Well, well, actually, that room is where Myanmar live. That's our flat. Oh. And yeah, and because we didn't have money to hire a venue, we just, we decided to have a party in our flat. And, No wonder it looks like an apartment. Okay. Yeah, that's our place. That's where we live. And also, the guy, the guy I was telling you about earlier on, the guy of the first person I met, the Dylanologist in Grafton Street, that's Pete. And he's the guy who sings. Oh. And then the woman who sings is my mother.

No. Yeah, that's my mother, Catherine. So, so, and again, how we did it was, instead of trying to hire a room and put lots of extras in it, we just threw a party and invited all our friends over. Oh, that's good. I really liked her voice. You know, there was something vague. Marianne faithful-ish about it? Yeah. Oh, well, interestingly, Marianne Faithful. Yeah.

Interestingly, Marianne Faithful used to live in that flat also, which you might have somehow picked up on. Yeah. We're very lucky in that we live. One of the other people that I met when I was younger was Marina Guinness, who's part of the Guinness family in Ireland. And, like, Ireland doesn't have royalty. But if we did have royalty, it would have to be the Guinness family because they're such a strong and powerful family in Ireland in a very nice way.

And of course, we all admire them. we drink their product constantly. It's an amazing thing. But I'm really glad you pointed out the guy and the woman because the guy is the guy I was talking about who took me on board and I spent a lot of time with him

when I was younger and, of course, my mother. Now we have to play that scene. Great to see us here. Can you sing? You can't sing you around. There's one request I'll ask of you when your liberty gave.

Remember Mitchell far away. I come big bound and shame My at once At this heart of my That's a scene from once Which stars my guest Glenn Hansard And Marquetta Urglova Did your mother sing a lot when you were growing up?

Yeah, my mother sang constantly when we were kids And my father My mother used to win Like she won a bunch of competitions when we were kids In pubs and, you know, they never My mother, of course, never took singing as seriously as say I did, but, you know, and my father. My grandfather was an opera singer, and my grandfather sang, I remember my great-grandfather sang in the same competition as James Joyce and beat him, apparently, in an opera.

Yeah, competition a long, long time ago. So music's definitely been in my family. So, wow, your lives have just been so changed by the movie. It's just, I mean, in every way, in terms of your performances, in terms of the fact that you're now a couple and you're living together. I'm sure you just never expected that. Not at all. I mean, it's been a very, very serendipitous, I suppose.

It's been a very, very interesting and powerful chapter in my life, for sure. And, you know, yeah, exactly. It's like, does life imitate art? Does art imitate life? With once, the lines are definitely blurred, and I really like that about it. since Dylan figures into your story here Glenn particularly your story I think maybe we'll end with you ain't going nowhere

from the soundtrack of the Dylan movie the movie about Dylan I'm not here the fictional movie about Dylan so you recorded you ain't going nowhere for it now I know I know Dylan was a big influence on you Glenn you sang Dylan songs

when you were busking as a teenager on the streets the frames opened for Dylan on some tour or another, so I imagine you got to meet him? Yeah. Did he have much to say? Is he meetable? I mean, is he accessible as a person? Well, you know, I'm very, very lucky in that I got to spend, you know, some time in Bob's

company. And he's one of those men. I don't even feel very comfortable talking about him because he's just so, for me, he's just a great. And, you know, I've been lucky in my life and that I've met, all the people that I've really adored, I've somehow managed to meet, and I feel great about that. And so spending a bit of time in a master's company gives one a great sense of humility. And so all I can say is that I definitely wasn't disappointed.

I spoke to Bob about Woody Guthrie. And that was, for me, what was really great about that was it was two people's, two artists speaking about another artist. And that was the, for me, was the way, the best way the conversation could flow. Because, you know, what do you say to the man who's heard every different approach? And when I met him, I just, I didn't really know what to say. I guess I was lucky in what just fell out of my mouth was I said meeting you Bob is a bit like what it must have been like when you met Woody and the conversation could have died right there

but it didn't, it went on and Bob talked about Woody and I talked about Woody. I knew just enough to keep a conversation going with him so it was for me it's been a wonderful experience being in his company. Well, I want to thank you both so much for talking with us. Thank you very much. Clouds so swift the rain's pouring in Glenn to see a movie called Gone Get In.

Pack up your money, put up your temple, Gwen. You ain't going nowhere. Let me hide. Tomorrow's the day, I'm going to chair. Glenn Hansard and Marquetta Urglova spoke to Terry Gross in 2008. He died Wednesday in a motorcycle accident at the age of 56. Here's another of Hansard's songs. I'm working on a high hope.

And if it all works out, you're going to. coming just see me hear from me in a while make across this tight road then I'm coming for my prize no more I'll be waiting round

while life just passes by maybe when our heart were like maybe when we've both had some time I'm gonna see I'm gonna see you there coming up

Monday marks the hundred the anniversary of the birth of Tony Bennett, and our jazz historian Kevin Whitehead has an appreciation. This is fresh air. This is fresh air. Monday marks the centennial of the birth of singer Anthony Bedadetto. Early patron Bob Hope suggested he anglicized his stage name to Tony Bennett. A lifelong New Yorker, Bennett had a long series of hits starting in the 1950s. In 1965, Bennett marched on Selma with Martin Luther King Jr. Later, he became a successful painter of portraits, landscapes, and cityscapes.

He then had a spectacular late-career comeback recording scores of vocal duets. Tony Bennett's hits include rags to riches, I want to be around, and I left my heart in San Francisco. Jazz historian Kevin Whitehead offers an appreciation, which includes some of Bennett's lesser-known songs.

You're clear out of this world. When I'm looking at you, I hear out of this world, the music that no mortal ever knew. Tony Bennett, 1964, with saxophonist Stan Getz, pianist Herbie Hancock, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Elvin Jones. fast company. The song is Out of This World by one of Bennett's favorite composers, Harold Arlen. Tony Bennett didn't call himself a jazz singer, but the influence was hard to miss in his swinging paraphrases of a tune. He had one of the great pop singer voices,

soaring, confident, big as a billboard. He liked a big finish. Even his vulnerability sounded self-assured, but good taste and timing would save him. Still, on early singles, He might battle top-heavy orchestrations and gimmicky effects like the tango beat plus castanets that paint a Latin setting on Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

When Tony Bennett was getting started in the late 1940s, early booster Pearl Bailey warned him learning proper stagecraft takes 10 years. He got there about on schedule. Bennett's favorite jazz composer was Duke Ellington, but his favorite band leader was Count Basie, whose orchestra he recorded with in 1958. Bacy's fireworks in that period fit a singer who liked to go big.

Things are mend and a night. I see a rainbow blend of night. We'll have a happy ender now. We're taking the trumpet in a time. In the early 60s, Tony Bennett had his signature hit. I left my heart in San Francisco and made some good. jazzy records. But as rock music took over, he came to stand for a fading breed, guy in a tux with a loosened tie singing Cole Porter in a Vegas lounge. Bennett ignored advice to modernize

and kept on going. In the 70s, he downsized, had his own small label and recorded some of his most intimate sessions in duo with pianist Bill Evans and with a quartet run by Ruby Braff on Cornette and George Barnes on guitar. On ballots, the singer kept his power in reserve. Isn't it romantic? Merely to be young on such a night as this. Isn't it romantic? Every note that song is like a lover's kiss.

Do you mean that I will fall for chance? Isn't it romance? In 1980, Tony Bennett's career was in a slump. Things began turning around when his son Danny became his manager, introducing him to younger listeners via MTV and late-night television shows. The CD reissue boom helped. Folks heard Tony's old sides with fresh years or for the first time. and he made a few records with his working trio where we could hear how expertly his longtime pianist Ralph Sharon shepherds him along.

I took a trip on a train and I thought about you I passed a shadowy lane and I thought about you two or three cars parked under the stars A winding stream shining down on some little town. And with each being the same old dream. In his last phase, Tony Bennett famously recorded many, many duets with diverse singers.

B.B. King, Bonnie Rae, Barbara Streisand, Bono, Billy Joel, Michael Boubley, that's just some of the bees. The series got rolling in the 90s when he paired up with K.D. Lang, a very very, very, you know, good fit. Here they are in 2001. That fake little laugh. He used that a lot. Tony Bennett's late duets cast a wide net. Some are quite good, others not so much. The Rockham-Soccom swingers with Lady Gaga lean hard on the old Vegas glitz as if to vindicate the 1960s. As if to vindicate the 1960s. Tony the hippies ignored. At least all the attention the duets brought him, let Bennett see that in the long run, everybody loved him just as he was. Tony Bennett sang as long as he was able, last performing

in 2021 on turning 95. He died less than two years later. He had a voice you can recognize anywhere. A singer can't do much better than that. Till the tune ends, we're dancing in the dark. And it soon ends while waltzing in a wonder of why... Jazz historian Kevin Whitehead is the author of the book's Why Jazz, play the way you feel, the essential guide to jazz stories on film, and New Dutch Swing. Singer Tony Bennett died in 2023 at the age of 96.

Monday is the 100th anniversary of Bennett's birth. Coming up, Justin Chang reviews I Want Your Sex, the new comedy film from Olivia Wild. This is Fresh Air. This is fresh air. In the new comedy I Want Your Sex, Olivia Wild plays an LA-based artist who initiates a dominant submissive relationship

with her younger employee, played by Cooper Hoffman. It's the first new feature in 12 years from the queer cinema pioneer Greg Oraki and its opening in theaters today after premiering to much acclaim in January at the Sundance Film Festival. Our film critic Justin Chang has this review.

When Greg Araki brought his new movie, I Want Your Sex, to this year's Sundance Film Festival, it felt like a long overdue homecoming. In the early 90s, Sundance helped launch Iraqi into the front ranks of queer independent filmmakers, with daringly sexy, funny, and violent tales of gay identity.

like The Living End, Nowhere, and one movie whose title I Can't Say Here. His output has been more erratic in the decades since. But in all his work, including the 2019 TV series, Now Apocalypse, he's never lost sight of sex as a defining force in the lives of his characters, as well as his audiences. Or, as one character in I Want Your Sex puts it, sex is everything. Those are the words of Erica Tracey.

A multimedia artist who's known for her provocative work. She's played by a terrific Olivia Wild. When we first meet Erica, she's floating face down in her own Los Angeles swimming pool, while a young man in a pink bra and panties, that's Elliot, played by Cooper Hoffman, clumsily tries to save her. I was reminded of the beginning of Sunset Boulevard,

and indeed, I Want Your Sex, is an erotic comedy by way of a noirish mystery. The story flashes back several weeks to around the time Erica hires Elliot as her assistant. Elliot is smart and friendly, but also hopelessly naive, and he has no idea what he's in for when one day Erica calls him into her office. There is something I need to speak with you about. I wouldn't want you to take this the wrong way, but the way you've been looking at me has been making me feel uncomfortable.

What? Don't pretend you have to. haven't been flirting with me, Elliot, and it is entirely inappropriate in the workplace. Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I don't even know what I've been doing exactly, but I promise whatever it is, I will stop immediately.

As long as we're really on the same page about that. I would love to be on the same page, yes. Erica's accusation is, of course, a come-on. Before long, the two have crossed over into entirely inappropriate terrain. with Erica initiating Elliot into a dominant submissive relationship. Most of their encounters take place at Erica's home and are played for easy laughs. But when they're not having sex, Erica and Elliot have some pretty pointed conversations about why so many Gen Ziers like Elliot are, well, not having sex.

Elliot blames COVID and overproductive parents, noting that he and his peers were raised to fear any kind of in-person socialization, let alone intimacy. Erica calls them all out as a generation of cowards, arguing that the whole point of sex, and of life itself, is to take risks and push past boundaries. Iraqi more or less agrees with her. You could think of I Want Your Sex as his state of the physical union address. At 66, he no longer represents the younger generation, but he's still clearly concerned for their well-being. That might have seemed condescending coming from another filmmaker, but a rocky

style of comedy is warm, genuinely inclusive, and thoroughly disarming. For moment to moment, the movie is pure pleasure, full of bright colors, delectable sight gags, and sharp pop culture-savvy one-liners, like when Elliot, wearing all black for a hot date, is told that he looks like an assassin in a Netflix yakuza movie. There are also sharp performances from Mason Gooding, as Elliot's snarky gay co-worker, Zap, and Chase Swee wonders as Elliot's best friend, Apple, who envies his forays into kink. As it turns out, though, there's not much to envy.

Erica invites Elliot to take their already wild relationship to another level, but what happens next simply doesn't ring true. It's the movie's most daring scene, and ultimately its most disappointing one. Like some other recent BDSM-themed film, films like Baby Girl and Pillion, I Want Your Sex brings its leads to an emotional crisis point that lays bare the long-term limitations of the character's arrangement. Iraqi is hardly a moralist, but he's mellowed a bit since his more radical early days, and the movie, for all its twists and trists, follows a fairly conventional arc.

And the narrative machinery really starts to splutter in the closing stretch, as the pieces of the swimming pool mystery plot snap laboriously into place. Even so, I left I Want Your Sex with real respect for Iraqi's determination to start a cross-generational conversation and his fondness for his characters and his actors. Hoffman, who came to fame a few years ago

in Paul Thomas Anderson's Liquorice Pizza, has a wily goofball charisma. He never becomes the butt of the movie's joke. And Wild is outstanding as Erica, mocking her own art world pretensions one minute, delivering a sex-positive monologue the next, and always seeming to keep the truth of what she really wants under wraps. She's a classic Greg Araki creation, a hilarious yet wholly serious reminder of the slippery, unpredictable nature of human desire. Justin Chang is a film critic at The New Yorker. I Want Your Sex, starring Olivia Wild, opens in theaters today. On Monday's show, the bra-burning feminist protesters of the 1968 Miss America pageant?

That was just a myth. Braws were never burned. But the pageant did ignite a battle over beauty, race, and power that still echoes today. We talk with historian Mickey McElgay about her new book, Liberation Summer. Hope you can join us. To keep up with what's on the show, show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at NPR Fresh Air. You can subscribe to our YouTube channel at YouTube.com slash This is Fresh Air. Fresh Air's executive producer is Sam Brigger.

Our senior producer today is Roberta Shoreup. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support from Julian Hertzfeld and Adam Stanishefsky. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Anne-Marie Baldinado, Lauren Crenzel, Theresa Madden, Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Yacundi, Anna Bauman, and Nico Gonzalez Whistler. Our digital media producer is Molly C.V. Nisper. For Terry Gross and Tanya Mosley, I'm David B. Incool.