Pinero

Piñero is an arthouse film based on the life of acclaimed slam poet, playwright, and ex-con Mikey Piñero, who was a fixture on New York's downtown scene in the 1970s. The film stars Benjamin Bratt in the title role and features music by Kip Hanrahan, and this soundtrack album is a predictable but occasionally brilliant blend of trance-inducing Latin music, jazz, and neo-beat spoken word interludes (courtesy of Bratt). The disjointed, episodic nature of this kind of soundtrack project (as opposed to one that simply brings together pop hits that were featured or alluded to in the movie, or that were just played over the credits) can be either a weakness or a strength; John Zorn has shown how you can make this kind of crazy-quilt compilation work in an artful way, while others have shown how to do the same thing in a merely arty way. Hanrahan gets it right about half the time here. The clattery, splattery piano that opens the program isn't very encouraging, and when Bratt starts talking it's enough to make you lose hope completely — by all accounts his onscreen performance was riveting, but without the visuals he comes across as a pretentious junkie-hipster manqué. When the music comes to the fore things get much more interesting, and even exciting: the impressionistic "Mikey Enters the Shooting Gallery," with its dark and reflective muted trumpet and electric piano, is both evocative and moving, and "Opening Night Celebration" builds a powerful bluesy tension over the course of its four and a half minutes. Best of all are the extended Caribbean jams featuring such American Clavé regulars as Robby Ameen, Horacio Hernández, and Jerry Gonzalez. Recommended overall, but keep your finger on the skip button.