A rough translation of the Hawaiian word ‘ukulele is “jumping flea,” which explains the title of this DVD about the ‘ukulele directed by Paul Kraus. This ambitious documentary brings attention to the simple Hawaiian folk instrument that has roots in Portugal, was “born” in Honolulu in the 1880s, and became the rage on the US mainland by the 1920s. Historical details, instruments, builders, players, singers, and playing instruction manuals make up the general contents. The Jumping Flea includes some coverage of the genesis of the ‘ukulele and then traces the impact of the instrument nationally as well as in the United Kingdom. It begins by describing the voyage in 1879 from Madeira to Honolulu that brought Portuguese contract laborers to work in Hawaiian sugar plantations. This voyage included three woodworkers who are credited with transforming the Portuguese machete into what is now known as the ‘ukulele. Sadly, the documentary does not elaborate on this process of transformation.
The Jumping Flea points out that the ‘ukulele's quick rise to national recognition in the United States was due probably to its presence in the Hawaiian Pavilion at the 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition in San Francisco, which was attended by people from around the globe. The ‘ukulele craze occupied lighthearted music entertainment circles around the US from the 1920s to the Depression, subsided throughout the 1930s and most of the 1940s, and was rejuvenated after World War II, thanks to Arthur Godfrey's popular radio and television shows. England's George Formby also receives deserved recognition as an important singer/‘ukulele player. Interviews with ‘ukulele builders compose a large part of the video, providing information that may be of interest to instrument collectors and budding luthiers. The video also spotlights novelty ‘ukuleles of various shapes, colors, material, and designs, and features a discussion with an inlay artist and two builders who use scientific approaches to ‘ukulele making.
Footage of various performers in action make up the balance of The Jumping Flea, but here is where the production falls short. The accompanying notes suggest that many top ‘ukulele performers are featured, but only Bill Tapia, Lyle Ritz, and James Hill, among today's top performers, receive attention, and even then just for a few seconds. John King, perhaps the world's only true classical ‘ukulele virtuoso, performed at the 2004 Santa Cruz UkeFest West concert where most of the performance clips were filmed, but The Jumping Flea contains no footage of him. Instead of highlighting ‘ukulele virtuosi, most scenes feature singers who merely strum simple chords on the ‘ukulele as accompaniment. These singers are personalities associated with the ‘ukulele rather than true ‘ukulele soloists, and a distinction between the two should be drawn. In a lengthy clip of singer Janet Klein (sans ‘ukulele), backed by a trio that included an ‘ukulele player, it is the band's guitarist who solos during the instrumental break! The DVD also presents some Hawaiian songs performed by Hawaiian artists, including one used as a backdrop during the long closing credits. As with most of the other performance footage, however, the singer or the song remains most prominent, accompanied by very minimal ‘ukulele playing. Clips of various top soloists during the closing credits certainly would have been more appropriate.
In general, viewers expecting to see and hear serious ‘ukulele playing will be disappointed by The Jumping Flea. The quality of audio/video is inconsistent, largely because performances were filmed on location rather than in a studio. One noticeable gaffe occurs when Lincoln Kaio is introduced to discuss and demonstrate a strumming technique. Although the camera remains fixed on his face, listeners soon realize that Kaio is actually talking about a rhythmic pattern rather than a strumming technique. The DVD and its liner notes also perpetuate some common misconceptions about the ‘ukulele. Kraus's liner notes claim that the “jumping flea” was named after the “fast strumming technique of its players” but does not acknowledge other debated origins surrounding the instrument's name. Additionally, in the printed Hawaiian language, the okina (‘) should appear at the beginning of the word ‘ukulele and near the end of the word Hawai‘i to indicate glottal stops. Without it, these words are considered to be misspelled in Hawaiian, but this symbol is missing whenever these two words appear in the accompanying notes. Most prominently, ‘ukulele (pronounced ooh-koo-leh-leh) is mispronounced throughout most of the film as something resembling “yoo-kuh-lay-lee.” Perhaps some of these errors are to be partially forgiven since Hawaiian words are often misspelled and mispronounced even in present-day Hawai‘i.
If anything, this noble project suffers from trying to squeeze too many topics into sixty-six minutes, interspersed with time-consuming scenic and period footage under the narration, footage that could have been replaced by clips of real ‘ukulele playing. Of course, in a video that attempts to cover so many aspects of the ‘ukulele, only superficial information may be expected. To my ears, some of the brief interviews and performance clips deserved more screen time while others were unnecessarily long. Although these may be judgment calls, it is clear that The Jumping Flea was not meant for specialists (players, builders, historians, etc.). It may serve better as entertainment for amateur ‘ukulele players and aficionados. Overall, this DVD is roughly on par with the few other films that deal with some aspect of the ‘ukulele. Kudos to Paul Kraus for bringing attention to this humblest of string instruments. I hope The Jumping Flea will inspire future filmmakers to do even more research on the ‘ukulele and to focus in even greater detail on just one or two aspects of the instrument.
