Al's Omniflick: Miss Sharon Jones!

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Miss Sharon Jones!

Director: Barbara Kopple

You may notice the exclamation point after the title in master documentarian Barbara Kopple's latest film; Miss Sharon Jones!. Trust me; after seeing her film on the electrifying R&B and funk singer, you may feel no other punctuation could possibly apply. Knowing next to nothing about Jones' life and career (at least before the film), I can only say I felt shame for my ignorance.
Kopple's film is about many things; Jones' music, her relationship with her band and her struggle to overcome early career music industry apathy. But the film is also about her greatest obstacle: overcoming pancreatic cancer; which threatened(s) her life and a career she worked hard to establish and her relationships with those who helped her through her darkest hours. The film is moving and though it may elicit some tears, it is never sentimental.

With Kopple's unobtrusive camera, the viewer is granted intimate access into Jones' world; a hectic blend of rehearsing, gigging and tending to her precarious health.

We learn early in the film about Jones' musical career prior to her work with her band, the Dap Kings. We see her performing for weddings and hear her speak of how music industry people dismissed her in the 1980s' for lacking a marketable image. Standing before the threshold of success, Jones' stage four pancreatic cancer not only threatens her life and career, but significantly alters the former while impeding the latter. In an early scene, the sight of Jones' hair being sheared to free her scalp from what she's lost to chemo is given a positive spin when she notices her head's lovely shape. Jones' optimism in the face of a grim illness says much about her.

Following Jones to and from her hospital visits, we meet her doctor and her nutritionist, who was instrumental in changing the singer's eating habits. Jones' taste for southern cooking, which includes pork sandwiches, is replaced by healthy shakes and more sensible fare.

Jones tells about her early life in Augusta, Georgia, where she was thrust into the role as the family caretaker. A scene where Jones walks her childhood neighborhood sheds light on the racism she endured in her younger years. She recalls a racist store owner who referred to black children as "niglets," and who served them stale and inedible candy.

Relocating to New York City, Jones pursued her music further and eventually formed her band; The Dap Kings. Kopple's film doesn't delve into the band's history; the story stays close to its main subject.

As the narrative unfolds, we become well acquainted with Jones' equanimity and ferocious optimism. To Jones, her illness is just a fact of life and her chemo treatments a routine. One sees the effects her infectious personality has on those around her as her manager, band-mates, personal assistant and nutritionist become a kind of surrogate family. Jones' emotional bond with each is deep and powerful. One of those with whom she shares a particularly strong bond is her manager; whose steadfast loyalty is both professional and personal.

We see the impact of Jones' illness on her career and her band. Tour dates are cancelled, which places a tremendous financial burden on certain band-members, whose only income is their music. But in spite of their hardships, the band is always empathetic and caring.

Talk of an appearance on the Ellen DeGeneres Show becomes a reality, as do subsequent appearances on Jimmy Fallon and David Letterman.

Kopple doesn't treat Jones' music or her dynamic stage performances lightly. Known as the "Female James Brown," we see how Jones' powerful, soulful voice and physical energy make her presence arresting. The blues, gospel, funk and soul influences in her music are readily apparent. We find a clue to the inspiration for her fiery performances in a scene that takes place during a Sunday service. Spiritually overcome, Jones offers ecstatic testimony before the congregation. Seeing how Jones is emotionally and spiritually transported, it's hard not to draw a parallel with her stage performances; which are no less riveting.

Jones' final chemo treatment and an operation to remove tumors create narrative suspense late in the film. Though the news is good, we see that it is very difficult to completely eradicate the cancer. Nevertheless, the good news is welcome relief for all.

A concert at Beacon Theater in New York City provides further suspense. Will Jones have the stamina to perform after her slow recovery? The sight of Jones hanging her in head in acute anxiety as she is being introduced is one of the film's most poignant moments. Though she warns the audience she might not be at her best, her voice still soars while her body's natural kineticism takes over. Even a moment where Jones forgets the lyrics to a song doesn't slow her or the show. Her concerns about being physically able to complete a tour are laid to rest as we see the numerous concert dates listed on the screen thereafter.

Kopple; an Albert Maysles' protege, learned much from the master documentarian on filming personalities. Like Maysles, Kopple maintains an unobtrusive but effective presence, which allows her to capture Jones in all her unguarded and intimate moments. Jones has much to contend with and we see it much of it in the film. Her thermic essence, and the passion in her music, come through beautifully.

Jones' story doesn't have a happy ending. A relapse is entirely possible but she hasn't let that variable stop her from making music or touring. Jones is emotionally and spiritually armored but as we see in the film, even she has her moments of doubt and frustration. Nevertheless, the woman and her music persist.

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On DVD

Fury (1936)

Director: Fritz Lang

Though we might normally think of the films M and Metropolis when director Fritz Lang becomes the topic of conversation, less known is the legendary director's work in Hollywood. Having fled the ever-growing menace of Nazi Germany for America in the early 1930s', Lang eventually found himself under contract for MGM.

Though his work in Hollywood is very uneven, one standout is Fury, from 1936. Starring Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney, the film's condemnation of mob justice seems spectacularly daring now, considering lynching was still a reality in Depression-era America. We don't see one black person in the film entire but we know precisely for whom Lang film is sympathetic.

Spencer Tracy plays Joe Wilson, who is arrested in a small town while en route to meet his fiance, Katherine (Sylvia Sydney). Suspected of being part of a kidnapping of a little girl, Wilson is arrested on the flimsiest evidence. While he sits in cell; angry and indignant, Katherine is puzzled as to why her fiance hasn't arrived at their prearranged meeting place.

But Wilson's fortunes take a darker and more dangerous turn when a mob--already on edge--is roused to anger. Egging one another on, the mob moves on the jailhouse where Wilson is being held. As the angry gathering becomes a mass, drawing citizens of the town into their swelling numbers, a lynch-mob begins to form. The sheriff, determined to see due process take its course, refuses their forceful demands. Becoming angrier and angrier and bolder and bolder, the crowd storms the jail, overwhelming the sheriff and his deputies. Unable to unlock the cell doors to reach Wilson, the mob sets the jailhouse ablaze as an alternate method of lynching.

Katherine, having arrived on the scene, faints when she sees flames engulf the cell where her fiance is held.

In spite of the mob acting as a faceless entity, its principle members are brought to trial though the town and the defendants maintain a conspiracy of silence, hoping to escape convictions and censure.

A sure acquittal seems imminent until damning evidence assures their guilt. When the majority of the members receive death sentences, Wilson turns up at his brothers, having survived the fire. Knowing the public is unaware of his survival, he vows to stay in hiding to ensure the mob conspirators are executed.

The scene where Katherine, nearly insane from grief, comes face to face with Joe is a powerful moment in the film. As she slowly recovers from her state, she realizes Joe's vindictive determination to see the mob hang is in itself a great injustice.

The story climaxes during a stirring courtroom scene that brings the fascinating story to a close.

I would have never expected Hollywood to make a statement as powerful as Fury made in 1936. Given the fact that lynchings in America at the time went unpunished, the movie railed bravely, in spite of the main character being white rather than black, against what was then the status quo. The Oxbow Incident would make a similar and commensurately powerful statement seven years later.

The film's willingness to peer into the darker side of American life could be partly attributed to Lang, who co-wrote the story and who was no stranger to exploring the darker side of humanity. Having seen evil flower in his home country, it makes sense Lang would choose to tell this story.

Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney give wonderful, emotionally layered performances. Katherine's near descent into madness is depicted touchingly by Sydney. To see Tracy's mild-mannered Wilson become angry and vengeful is heartbreaking.

Even watching Lang's film on a small screen does little to diminish its power. Weeks after the viewing, I still can't shake its indelible images or its angry indictment of one of America's great crimes. One couldn't devise a better title than one it was given eighty years ago. Fury indeed.