DVD Review: Jimi: All is by my Side

Year: 2013 (U.K Release 2015)
Director: John Ridley
Screenplay: John Ridley
Starring: Andre Benjamin, Hayley Atwell, Imogen Poots

 
Synopsis is here:

 
John Ridley's biopic of Jimi Hendrix; Jimi: All is by my Side, is a frustrating experience. Its subject is one of the most influential musicians of the modern age, yet the film doesn't feel wholly invested in him. It's a film in which its main subject believes in giving everything he does a sense of vividness and flamboyance, and yet none of the film approaches the ideal. This is a film about Jimi Hendrix, but only superficially.

Jimi: All is by my Side sets itself in London 1966 before Hendrix travels back to America and the release of his band's seminal debut: Are You Experienced. Played up as an interesting a pivotal point in Hendrix's life, it feels more like the year was picked as the production couldn't obtain any of the music Hendrix wrote. Such a limitation wouldn't be an issue if the film had handled any of its drama with any subtlety. However, Ridley's screenplay is a hodge-podge of lackluster melodrama, bland musical performances and awkwardly shoehorned scenes. What little conflict the film drums up is quickly resolved or forgotten about before the scene ends. While the drama the film does bring up is the type of tried cliché usually seen in more dubious made for T.V biopics.

The most upsetting thing is that All is by my Side has come from the Oscar winning Ridley, whose blistering work on 12 Years a Slave is miles apart from what we have here. The film's screenplay lacks focus, and Ridley does very little to give the narrative a cohesive through line. Moments that should be defining are hastily constructed. Was Eric Clapton really that stunned by Hendrix's playing? If so, why does that moment feel like such a footnote? The same goes for Hendrix's relationship with his father, which is regulated to a limp, one sided telephone call. It feels so tenuous that it could have easily been left on the cutting room floor.

Ridley then tries to force race into the film with little reason other than to try and illustrate his own feelings on it. There seems to be little reason to have Hendrix quibbling with white policemen or holding a dumbed down argument between Jimi and conterversal Black Revolutionary Michael X (Adrian Lester), but both appear with the sole purpose of making sophomoric statements about race. They do little to show how such matters affected Hendrix and his playing, whether or not such aspects ever did alter his views of music at all. 

All by my Side's saving grace (save for a bright performance of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club) is the performances. While none of the cast has much to work with in terms of depth, the energy they give to their roles is more than substantial. Andre Benjamin certainly looks the part as Hendrix, although the character itself is more of a caricature of what people think the artist was like. Both Atwell and Poots give their flat characters the life they need to make them watchable. It's a shame that Ridley's script doesn't particularly like women, having both characters doing little more than serving the male character. For a film set against the sexual revolution, the depiction of women is quite disappointing.

Jimi: All is by my Side is an awkward and miscalculated piece with has nothing reaching the intensity of the musician's guitar playing. From its visually drab photography to it's on the nose dialogue, the film jumps unremarkably from scene to scene with little flair or verve. It's clear that the cast entered this with the best intentions in mind, but it seems that the life of Jimi Hendrix needed someone who had a clearer vision to lift some of the purple haze.

Review: Whiplash

Year: 2014 (U.K Release 2015)
Director: Damien Chazelle
Screenplay: Damien Chazelle
Starring: Mills Teller, J.K Simmons, Paul Reiser, Melissa Benoist

Synopsis is here:

As cold and bitter as January can be, the month is one of my favorite times of the year. After the first week of sales, a stroll into town is a relatively clam experience. It's the month of my birthday, which makes drinking gin with a large group of gin feel extra special. However, the biggest reason of my love for January, of course boils down to going to the cinema. It's at this time when, the due to the Oscars, the more "prestigious" films find their way into the multiplexes. To me it just means we have an influx of films which are a tad more adult, and with the current cinematic trend feel much like childhood nostalgia running rampant for so much of the year, it brings substantial relief.

A grand amount of alleviation can also be found once we get to the final moments of Whiplash. The film from the start is so tightly wound you can tune it with a fork. Once the film finally cuts to black and delivers the end credits, there was a feeling of exhalation that flowed out of me, as if someone had finally cut a noose from around my neck. We often consider Jazz as unhurried and easy going. Whiplash decides to take the world of Jazz and turn it into a psychological battlefield. An aggressive battle of odds between student and mentor.

Fans of Jazz as a musical genre have argued with where the film is coming from, much like the ballet dancers who complained about how Black Swan didn't highlight their art form in a positive light. Whiplash is not playing in the same wheelhouse as American Sniper, looking at decidedly weighty subjects based on true events. Although loosely inspired by a teacher that writer/director's knew at his time as a Jazz Drummer in high school, the film is more indebted to something like Rocky (1976) rather than realism. The fact is Whiplash never delivers itself as an absolute truth, it only wishes to tell an entertaining story, and does so with aplomb.

Despite having a narrative leaner than supermarket mince, Whiplash is a neatly realised and textured drama. Damien Chazelle details his film with just the right flourishes to give the drama the right edge and to have us invested in its characters. From a foot touching another during a first date to the beads of sweat leaping of the symbols when they're hit. The film brings a rich range of characteristics to envelop us into its world, ranging from bleeding plasters, to battered and bruised hands hitting iced water. Even the contours and veins on Simmons' face. Such small moments make sure that the film, while simple in its plotting, speak volumes.

Miles Teller turns down his more comical tics for a subtly sensitive performance. Giving the type of arrogant straight man performance that goes unnoticed during award season until it's too late. It's a role of heavier lifting than we give it credit for. Playing an instrument convincingly (to a Layman), as well as providing a relatable and naturalistic performance throughout. He also has to be the right combative foil for the viper that awaits him in the other corner. J.K Simmons, as teacher Terrance Fletcher, is a near impenetrable ball of rage. A man sick of mediocre talent being passed off as "good enough", nearly every word that froths from his mouth is a well-oiled put down. Every glance, a look of contempt. Do don't just play in rhythm, you have to play well. You don't just play well, you play beyond. Fully embracing a role that only he was born to play, Simmons' is on fearsome form as Fletcher, a man who strikes nerves by merely grasping at air. This central "relationship" is the jewel of Whiplash as you wait to see who may crack first.

As stated, we're not going to Whiplash for the exact truth, and yet looking at Simmons' intimidating tutor only had me contemplating how many people had a teacher like this. I remember mine looking similar to Simmons and held similar ferocity. There are (or were, if we are to believe parents nowadays) teachers such as Fletcher, who can only gain the results they acquire through fear and thunderous displays of dominance. One of the scariest things Chazelle brings to the table is the idea that as much as we dislike Fletcher's methods or try to disbelieve in them, when his reasons are explained, it's tough not to see it on his side.

 That said, when the one of the film's most pivotal piece of information is revealed further along the line and defenses appear to be knocked down slightly. The outcome of the issue feels almost like a shrug. It's hard not to think of the term to make an omelette you have to crack a few eggs, although the eggs we're dealing with a lot more delicate.

Yet, due to Whiplash being a force of nature the film powers through. The sheer drive of these characters is what makes the film so appealing. Despite the preposterous nature the film sometimes delves into, the exhilaration of the film's final 20 minutes brings, in which we see the stakes both mentor and student at their highest, makes the films more extravagant elements all the worthwhile. It's only in the Whiplash's final moments when we the connection between two people in complete sync, do we get the feeling that we can breathe once more. Jazz has never been so thrilling.

Review: Searching for Sugarman

Year: 2012
Director: Malik Bendjelloul

WARNING: Sorry if this review sounds vague. This film must have certain aspects withheld, least it spoil the film. Short Version: Heart warming celebration to music and a man.

Searching for Sugarman does what a good documentary should. I went in knowing nothing and exited knowing a little bit more about a subject. I also came out thoroughly entertained by a film that at first appears to be a dark thriller before blooming into a small, heart warming tale. Bendjelloul does nothing out of the ordinary with the subject matter in terms of  the film making process. But the simple effective execution of the work  is what makes a film such as this stand out.

We are told of a Detroit musician with a Dylan-esque voice and similar subject material, who produces two albums that is enjoyed by the few who hear it in the U.S and yet sells peanuts. We are told that the young musician is so distraught from his experience, that he kills himself on stage...This is no Cobain or Buckley, and as this musician didn't "make it" his name fades into obscurity...until a copy of the musician's record is brought from America to South Africa during the midsts of the apartheid.

To say any more will ruin the film. In fact I feel that I may have already said too much. The joy of Searching for Sugarman (apart from the music) is that, in an age where films like Prometheus, leak viral clues to into every orifice of a pop culture junkie, to go into the documentary with no knowledge makes it's surprises and outcomes all the more sweeter. 

The film paints a picture of an artist in the truest form. The mystery that is set in place is tightly handled, as we are drip feed information about Rodriguez, an enigmatic musician, whose inner city folk music enriches young liberal South African musicians. His work details a struggle, which strikes a chord so deep that some of his listeners become musicians themselves. Rodriguez' album goes platinum in South Africa and all the while the creator knew nothing.

The plot thickens and we are introduced to two sleuths who do anything to try and find out who Rodriguez was and what actually happened to him. It's easy to get wrapped up in the enthusiasm as we slowly piece together the tale. The film gives us a pantomime villain in Motown Record's Clarence Avant. His money orientated rant and who cares attitude betray the films overwhelming sweetness, but also illustrates the importance of the films plight and message, if although coming off more than a little forced. However, that is how many documentaries come across. The film does have an air of manipulation at times. At it's weakest points, I can't say that I was getting that feeling of the so-called "ecstatic truth" that Herzog reaches for. 

This does not mean that such a heart warming film doesn't have a lot to say. It is worth noting that much of the film talks about a that now distant future before the internet. it reminds us just how small that world wide web has made the world as the revelation that take place within the film could only happen before the days of web 2.0.

It's also worth noting that the film's story takes place before the internet, we realise just how small the www has made the world as something like this could only be happen before the days of digital communication. Despite a few reservations of the slightly manipulative aspects that seeped through, what can't be faked is the reaction and enthusiasm the lies in Rodriguez's music in South Africa. The films final act is a brilliant celebration of a man's work. The contrast of how the likes of Clarence Avant viewed Rodriguez compared to the unbelievably humble way of the musician himself as we discover clues about his past not only display the power of music, but a powerful reflection of what is considered to be an artist.

This is a revealing comparison to a film like Overnight, which deals with an obnoxious nobody becoming a somebody, in such a way you shed a small tear for humanity. Searching for Sugarman shows the other extreme, in which if a man has humility as a basic foundation, he could be considered to some a true artist. 

Review: Beats Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest

Year: 2011
Director: Michael Rapaport
Starring: Q-Tip, Phife Dogg,  Ali Shaheed Muhammad

I can almost pinpoint the main moments when I became a hip-hop fan. It was 1995-1996. It was when Batman forever came out and I brought the soundtrack CD which featured Method Man's The Riddler. That period of time I remember owning Gangsters Paradise by Coolio. Skip forward two years and I was introduced to the Radio 1 Rap Show and Channel 4's late night "Flava" program by my mate Darren. It was around that time I asked my father to bring me back some CD's as he went to see his sister in America. One of the albums he brought back was People's Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm. That's when I became A Tribe called Quest fan.

Maybe there was a sub-concious thing going on under the surface, but the purchase of that album clearly shaped my taste in the genre, perhaps more than I even know. Since then I've not only become a hip-hop fan, but a certain type of hip hop fan. East Coast rapper?  New York in particular? Concious lyrics? Good chance I'll want to listen to you. I've got Dre, Snoop and Tupac albums and while I have time for rap that gets a little "thuggish". However that certain brand of hip-hop, often misguidedly considered alternative or emo* is what often appears when I shuffle my tracks on my Ipod. Tribe didn't just subscribe to that brand, they damn near invented many aspects of it.

So now we come to Beats, Rhymes & Life (aptly named after the Tribes more sobering forth album), a rarity in music documentary in that a hip-hop group go under the microscope. Considering the turbulent and eclectic life of hip-hop as a whole; from it's D.I.Y grass-roots foundations as a genre, to the multi-million dollar business rap has become. I'm always a little shocked at the lack of films (documentaries especially) with hip hop at it's core. Nick Bloomfield's revealing Biggie and Tupac and the fun loving Scratch by Doug Pray are great entries, and many will mention Style Wars as part of the stable. Yet, the handful of known and unknown films out there don't compare to other genres especially when it comes to artists.

This is where Rapaport's film kicks in. Its energetic first act half starts with a title sequence that not only highlights the band and the vibrancy they brought, but reminds one of the same bold, colourful entrance that Spike Lee gave Do the Right Thing. The film then follows a quite typical music documentary narrative, which ebbs and flows much like so many of it's ilk. This doesn't stop the film (especially the first segments) from being informative, engaging and funny.

What makes the Tribe the perfect hip-hop candidate for a documentary is their personalities as a group and as individuals. We discover that Q-Tip is the creative force and while no one would like to say he's the leader, it is him that conveys the drive of the artist. Despite having a nickname "the abstract" Tip at times comes across as calculating and focused. Phife on the flip side is the the more raw of the two rappers, a diabetic sports fan who's addicted to sugar. The more outspoken and impulsive of the two, many of the taking heads reference his punchlines and lyrics throughout the movie. The very different voices of the duo is pointed out at one moment (Tip - Calm and collected lyricism, Phife - High pitched, rougher flow) and what is interesting is that their lyrical style also mirror their off-stage personalities.

It's no surprise that as the film moves on, Phife becomes the heart of the film, while Q-Tip slowly evolves into what could be the antagonist of the piece. The films first half with it's wit, charm and sheer abashed love of the music and what it brought to people and each other is soon lost to a more dramatic focus as the film settles on Phife's illness and the varying factors that lead to the groups split. It's no surprise that Q-Tip is angry at the movie, as while the film doesn't paint him as evil, it does do a good job of angling Tip as the biggest factor in the tribe becoming archipelagos. Jerobi, who left the group early and Ali the DJ sit awkwardly on the sidelines as the film tries to make us take sides between the ill Phife and the more driven Tip. It's in these moments that film doesn't work as well as it could as it becomes as fragmented as the group themselves.

The film works best as a celebration of not only the music but of the artists that Tribe help bring to the surface. Talk of the creation of People's Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm and The Low End Theory are highlights. There are talking heads of Common, Pete Rock, Beastie Boys and Pharrell (one of the most revealing in terms of a new generation artist talking about the old school) share small insightful moments. The films credits feature brief snippets of Mos Def and Talib Kweli and quite simply...they don't get enough to say.

This doesn't sway from Beats Rhymes & Life from being a ineffective movie. The concert footage is full of energy. The short history of the group and their childhood is milder than one would expect and this along with the the nature of the tribe and the image they portray is handled well by Rapaport. An actor by trade (True Romance, Special, Bamboozled), his first feature film is clearly a documentation of something he loves. His off screen voice can hardly contain the excitement.

Beats Rhymes and Life left me grinning although I wish Rapaport took a little more from Doug Pray's book and less from Joe Berlingers. A Tribe called quest are not Metallica and while the film doesn't have that Spinal Tap feel that Some kind of Monster has, it fares better when it concentrates on the love over the arguments. Q-Tip states early on that after the Rock the Bells tour, the only time the group will be back together is is they qualify for the Rock and Roll hall of fame. Beats, Rhymes & Life is at it's best when it showcases joy and creation of the music that will hopefully make that possible.

*Emo rap is a bullshit term to give hip-hop that isn't isn't ghetto or gangster. Why? Because before the now more common, mainstream view of hip-hop or rap as aggressive thuggery and the materialistic bling era. Hip-hop was music which at times often had a real voice and message, be it social, political or otherwise. The idea that anything that doesn't talk about "bitches" and "money" and all that other nonsense must be labelled (often somewhat negatively) degrades and sidelines what hip-hop was and can be about.

David Lynch + Danger Mouse = mindfuckery

+ =

Yes I've invented the word mindfuckery, and even though no spellcheck "gets" the word but seriously.....it should be allowed to be used after hearing this

The Main Article is here but basically...

David "ideas are like fishes" Lynch (follow his twitter) and Hip Hop producer Danger Mouse are collaborating on a new music project. The collab is with a host of other musical talent (Black Francis of the Pixies and The Flaming Lips to name a few) but the main surprise for me has to be David Lynch the creator of Mullholland Drive and Eraserhead and this piece of what the fuckery(catching on?):




Yeah exactly. David Lynch mixing his mind with a guy whose music videos can look like this:




Now I'm a fan of both....something tell me that these two getting together: end of the world.