Lonely Boy

In my Canadian film and television class this week I'm showing a bit from the NFB’s 1962 Lonely Boy. It's a brilliant anti-Griersonian documentary, a harbinger of the rockumentary, and chock-full of screaming girls with bouffy hair. Watching it again for the first time in years I had to chuckle – it reminds me in very different ways of two guys I’ve dated. One because he kinda resembles Paul Anka (when Anka was young and boyish, not balding) – similar stature, cuts a dashing figure in a suit, and because I suspect this guy always harboured a dream of being an early '60s pop idol. Or at the very least being shot exclusively in black and white. The other one because he once met Anka, working security at Casino Niagara a few years ago (pre-Rock Swings). They chatted for awhile in Anka’s dressing room, and during the show Anka dedicated that night’s rendition of “Lonely Boy” to him. All associations aside, I still love the song. Folks just don’t do melody like they used to.