Please, Please, Please Mister
Brown-The James Brown Story- Get On Up
DVD Review
From The Pen Of Frank Jackman
Get On Up, starring Chadwick Boseman,
a Jagger Production, yeah Mick Jagger the guy with the James Brown moves on the
concert stage so you know the James Brown we are talking about, 2014
Hear Me Out. In the beginning was the
word. Hear me out. Yeah, probably it was the gospel word, but in certain
quarters, in certain off-beat corners that word needed fortification, needed
something (besides Eddy’s home-made liquor come Saturday night, that would come
later) to sanctify it up good and so some very high heaven gospel songs
praising high holy Jehovah and begging him (assuming it was/is a him) to come
and free his benighted people. Good old gospel singing getting through the
rough spots of slavery and then Mister James Crow’s go heres and go theres. And
from the gospel out in the country, out in the Delta (and not only the Delta
but let’s use that example here), came the first inkling of the blues, the
blues to put a man-make name to the miseries, Mister’s plantation miseries (or
really his Captain’s, the overseer), that James Crow thing, a good woman on a
man’s mind, or a bad man or woman who done somebody wrong. Then the blues got
dragged to the cities in the great migration, got some electricity to reflect
the faster pace and from there it was only a short haul to rhythm and blues and
its off-shoot, now called the classic age of rock and roll. All of this to
introduce the subject of this biopic, Mister James Brown, in the Mick Jagger
production of Get On Up.
See I needed to trace the roots, the
roots of what James Brown was all about, all about what for lack of better name
became the genre of soul music. No just because he was the “godfather” of that
type of music but because when he came on the scene in the 1950s with Please, Please, Please he brought
something new to the American songbook. Not classic rock and roll, no way it
was a different beat that we grabbed onto, surely not folk, not be-bop jazz then
in its heyday, none of those things but something more primitive, good roots primitive,
going back to some mist of time Mother Africa beat that got passed on through the
generations to Mister James Brown. So that was how rooted he was, that roots
stuff was the stuff that was running through his brain as he tried to take that
beat in his head and make people jump, to celebrate, at first mainly blacks
down South and then once white kids got hip to his sound the whole freaking
world, the world that counted anyway.
From the biographical flash-back scenes
interspersed with the music presented in the film it was a very close question
about whether an uneducated (formally anyway) black kid growing up in the post-
World I South, out in the country, in the countryside outside of Augusta, Ga,
an Army town (oh yeah, and the town where the then very white Masters Golf
Tournament only is held), to a derelict wife and child beating father and a
ill-fit mother would make it to twenty-one never mind becoming a world famous
celebrity. But see Mister Brown carried that beat in his head, carried it right
to the end and he never let go of that notion. Of course there are many stories
about musical performers who almost had it but for some ill-omened reason fell
short so some luck was involved. Finding a big time friend, Bobby Byrd, who got
him out of jail and a guy who knew enough to latch onto James’ wagon and go as
far as he could with him despite his own considerable lead singer dreams. Being
at the right place at the right time when the first record producer insisted to
his bewildered boss that he knew what he was doing by letting James let it rip
his own way on Please, Please, Please
and the rest is history. Although not
without the problems of keeping high-strung musicians satisfied, drugs, financial
difficulties, martial problems, and loss of friends and fellow performers for
lots of reasons, mainly because he was number one and there was no number two
really in his company. No question Mister James Brown had a very clear
perception of who he was, how he wanted to handle everything from finances to
his image and stage presence that came through in Chadwick Boseman’s
performance.
A couple of personal points not
directly connected to the film but since James Brown is part of the scenery of
the life of my 1960s generation they can be tacked on here. First a few years
after James Brown released his Please, Please,
Please in the 1950s I was at a high school dance where the DJ played that
song and I, spying a girl I had been eyeing all night until my eyeballs were sore,
when over to her and lip-synched James’
song and it worked. Second, after Eddie Murphy had started his “Free James”
campaign when Brown was in jail I was working with a group of young college
students who I had assumed would not necessarily know who he was when I shouted
out “Free James” to see if I would get any reaction. Jesus, all of a sudden
there was a hall full of kids shouting back “Free James.” Yeah, get on up.
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