That's the Name of That Tune is about an aging clarinet player (Byron West) who reluctantly begins to mentor an inner city youth (Robert Dastoli). It is classic Dastoli characters with authentic Dastoli universe dialogue, as well as the requisite nonsensical title. But first, the three big questions:

1. Long ago, James and Robert established an unofficial policy that James would always be the one who acts. He has been the lead in like thirteen Dastoli Digital movies (not counting the three where they acted together). Robert played the lead once, in Mr. Downtown. It might have had something to do with James feeling burnt out or some bullshit after the completion of The Black Iris, but there has never been an official explanation for this anomaly. And if that was a mystery, then Robert's leading turn as Pat in That's the Name of That Tune is an ancient fucking riddle. Why is he acting again instead of James? Did they want to distance this movie from Another Way Home by not using James, but not so much that they wouldn't be aversed to using his identical twin? It ends up working for the movie, because James is an action hero, and we wouldn't have been able to take him seriously as this youthful punk all full of inexperience and optimism. This is ironic because Robert is older.

2. That's the Name of That Tune is the latest in a streak of movies where Dastolis give themselves facial hair to play a featured role. It happened in a couple of their adaptations, but they don't count those as movies, so I SUPPOSE the official first time it happened was with James in Another Way Home. Now, I'm not against the basic idea of facial hair. Derek Ormond has like two beards in this movie, and I don't have a problem with that. But because Robert grew the facial hair specifically for the role of Pat, I have to assume there was a reason for it. Maybe the reason didn't make sense the way other things in the world make sense, but there was a reason. Were they trying to distinguish this character visually from previous Dastoli characters? Were they trying to age Robert so that he could believably hit on Maria Paris? As of this writing, I have not heard the commentary for the movie, but something tells me it won't be addressed. Unless they read this review first and decide to make me look like the king of fools.

3. Speaking of things going unaddressed, it is explained in That's the Name of That Featurette that James and Robert set this movie in 1990 without bothering to let the audience know at any point. Was there no unobtrusive way of putting this information in the movie? They could have used a number of devices:

- Establishing date right on the screen at the beginning of the movie. This would have fit with the harsh reality that hits us after the dreamlike opening credits -- the big band days are over.

- Showing the year on a newspaper or calendar somewhere. James and Robert love to photoshop shit like this.

- Exposition cleverly hidden in the dialogue. "That's not whatshisname's kid, is it?" "No, that's not the DeNicolas' kid. He's fighting in the Gulf War." "Will you two shaddup already? President George Herbert Walker Bush is about to do a speech on the Soviet Union and I want to hear it before I go to LaGuardia to pick up my nephew who's coming back from that new Universal park that just opened in Florida." "All right, Nutch, but can ya rewrite me this check from last week? Ya accidentally put the wrong year in the date, ya dumb truck. It's 1990." "Oh, really? I keep thinking it's still 1989." "Have a Pepsi (holds up old white Pepsi can with discontinued logo)."

I like this movie because I like the noble simplicity of the story and the personality in the script, which is peppered with little bits of Dastoli magic. The only problems I saw were in the execution. Robert, like most of the cast, was very natural, especially in the scenes where he eats and tells Frank about his day (because that is exactly how Robert eats/talks about his day in real life). But occasionally, some of the characters (Frank and Dot, for exampe) will say their lines really slowly, and it's like they're dragging me right out of the movie (although Byron West's performance grows on me with each viewing). In addition, some of the staging felt a little awkward. I almost wanted them to get the camera off the tripod so that the characters wouldn't feel obligated to stay glued to their mark. And when I saw that their bakery was a counter composited on top of the UCF Student Union bathroom, I lost full control of my motor functions. This was not a great location choice. I would have been less jolted if they had shot the scene with Legos. It makes me wonder if people who have never been to the UCF Student Union would know that it's fake, or even recognize it, considering it's two floors down from the "hotel lobby" in Errand Boys. Surely the last thing they wanted was to be left without a real location, but I think James and Robert, maybe even on a subconscious level, really wanted that challenge. Some people put a needle in their arm. Dastolis rotospline.

Here is what the Dastolis have to say about That's the Name of That Tune:

JAMES:

"This movie was concieved with Pat De Nicola in the part that Robert plays, and although Robert did fine I guess, I still would rather be looking at Pat because I can't stand looking at Robert (onscreen or especially off)."

ROBERT:

"That's the Name of That Tune is supposed to take place in 1990. The reason for this is because all of the environments and characters we were trying to recreate were from memories of our early childhood in the early 90s."

In That's the Name of That Featurette, we learn that James and Robert replaced a modern-looking automobile with a more antiquated white van. However, if you observe the reflection of the car in the glass doors to the bar, we can still see the car that used to be in the shot. This ghost reflection is their way of showing how the future is constantly creeping up on Frank. It is also a statement that we can live in whatever time we damn well please.