Twenty Feet from Stardom

This is a documentary of the background singers we've been listening to for decades. People whose singing we actually sing or hum to without ever knowing who they are. They work in the studios and live on stage with The Rolling Stones, David Bowie, Sting, and many, many others. That magic that works in the studio or on stage as background singers is undeniable but may not necessarily be there for them when they try to branch out on their own as a lead singer. They are talented for sure and many songs wouldn't sound anything like they do without back up singers.

The documentary is good however, something is missing. Who actually calls the singers for a gig? Who actually pays them? How are they paid? By the hour? By the session? How did they get started? Where was their first gig? None of this spoken of and there is a sense that perhaps the interviewers were told that they shouldn't dig too, too deep.

Not bad but left me wanting more.

15 minutes into 20 Feet from Stardom you really become excited about the possibilities. You hear familiar songs that are given a new perspective and see the faces that match the voices you fell in love with. But before the film winds down, you have more questions than you did going in. It devolves into little more than a well-produced message from the Music Industry Tourism Board. That's not to say there's no value here. It does provide a look at some significant voices with a top-line glance into their place in the recording industry and their personal journeys. There's enough here to engage you and ample servings of some truly outstanding music (the a cappella take of Merry Clayton's "Gimme Shelter" vocal gives you chills and the recollection of its recording session is one of the film's highlights). But it's narrow focus and limited perspective do leave a lot on the table.

The bulk of the film consists of five stories from the 1960s to the present, including Darlene Love (ghost singer for The Crystals on "He's a Rebel" and a featured performer on the greatest Christmas album of all time, A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector), Merry Clayton (the aforementioned backup on The Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter" and actress from Cagney & Lacey), Tata Vega (The Color Purple soundtrack and numerous background gigs from the 80s to present), Lisa Fischer (Rolling Stones, Luther Vandross and Tina Turner collaborator and Grammy winning solo artist), and Judith Hill (Performed at Michael Jackson's memorial service and would go on to compete on season 4 of The Voice after the film's completion).

While both Tata Vega and Lisa Fisher seem to lack the resume of classic recordings that Love, Clayton or Claudia Lennear (another subject) have racked up, Judith Hill's inclusion is perhaps the most questionable. She seems to view the role of backup singer unbefitting her, going so far as to wear a wig when performing a backup gig on television so as not to be recognized by her fans. Having not amassed the body of work the other subjects have, she has little to contribute here except as a counterpoint to Lisa Fisher's humble demeanor or as a throw-in to represent the future of the industry. Unfortunately, she seems ill-suited to be a symbol or generational representative, as her scenes fail to accomplish this goal with any impact.

One of the issues I had coming into this movie as a music fan is that I was able to see the potential this kind of documentary had in mining the munificent history of Rock and Roll and Soul music. However, perhaps because of my own musical biases, I found the segments focusing on the music and voices of the 60s and 70s so much richer and more interesting. The film introduces big figures of the time like Phil Spector and Ike Turner but never explores the gory details of what it was like working with such notorious personalities. Indeed, one could have easily have scrapped anything 80s and upward and filled that time talking about the difficulties these women of colour faced from producers, record labels, and even the lead vocalists themselves, during some very turbulent times. Throw in some of the talented ladies from the George Clinton, Sly Stone and James Brown revues, or perhaps even a few of the fellas, and you have yourself a foundation for an insightful film.

The movie also fails to explore what it was like performing on some of the most famous recordings of our time and have little to show for it. Nothing is done to investigate whether these artists were fairly compensated. It was great that they were able to get Mick Jagger to sit down and talk about his backup singers, but it would have been interesting to ask him if he thought they had been properly remunerated for their work. Just a bit of a look into the mechanics of the industry in that regard would help us better understand what being in that occupation was like from a financial standpoint and what kind of life that affords.

At the end of the film's airy 90 minute running time, one does walk away with a new appreciation for the role of the backup singer (for at least the next little while) and perhaps that's all this documentary ever aspired to be. But an Oscar nominee should strive for something greater than that. While being entertaining, the film is hardly insightful and leaves one with the distinct impression of wanting more. Perhaps we can get a miniseries on this one day.

This film is highly recommended.

Midway through Morgan Neville's riveting new documentary about the world of backup singers, Twenty Feet from Stardom, music legend Sting comments that the most important factors needed for success, more so than talent, are luck and timing. That sage comment is the crux of this thoroughly entertaining film.

We meet a series of talented vocalists, mostly unknowns who contributed to many hit recordings of the past (songs like Gimme Shelter, Walk on the Wild Side, Young Americans, What'd I Say, and Sweet Home Alabama). We learn about their journey for fame and fortune and its high cost. Many edge their way toward the spotlight only to somehow lose sight of that elusive goal. Twenty Feet from Stardom honestly tells their life stories. Most end unhappily, some are more fortunate. All are thoroughly engrossing studies of blind ambition (or in some cases, the lack thereof) and the singer's personal need to share their vocal gift with others.

These background singers are a remarkable bunch of gifted performers, many of which go unrecognized by the general public, including myself. Names like Merry Clayton, Lisa Fischer, Judith Hill, the Waters Family, Claudia Lennear, Mabel John, Stevvi Alexander, Jo Lawry, and Tata Vega are bantered about. We witness these gifted women and their incredible high- reaching vocal range. This documentary gives the moviegoer a front row seat. It's must-see viewing.

Their individual journeys are fascinating and varied. We learn that some of these session singers leave the music industry to start other careers while others still languish in the music business waiting for their next gig. One singer ends up posing for Playboy while another finds a religious calling. One even wins a Grammy Award for Best Female R&B Artist for her debut album, only to find that her fame evaporate until her next recording. Probably the best known of these talents is Darlene Love who tells her tragic tale of the Svengali-like Phil Spector and his malicious control over her career. (Love poignantly admits that watching other performers lip-syncing to her voice and losing her musical identity in the process became too much for her to handle. We then actually see the footage of that act in question.)

Sometimes the film overstates its message and becomes a bit redundant. But the filmmakers have culled extraordinary performances, both then and now. Neville builds his story with rare archival footage of these singers in performances from the sixties to present day and he masterfully incorporates strong imagery throughout the many interviews with established stars like Bruce Springstein, Stevie Wonder, Patti Austin, Chris Botti, Bette Midler, Mike Jagger, and the aforementioned Sting. These stars truly appreciate the genuine talent of these women and the musical contributions they bought to their mega-recordings.

Twenty Feet from Stardom creates a visual and auditory record of these great soul singers and may help them one day gain the recognition they deserve. Let's hope filmmaker Neville doesn't need luck and timing on his side either until his next film. He is a real talent to watch and his film is a joy to be heard. (I will eagerly wait for the soundtrack.) GRADE: B+

ANY COMMENTS: Please contact me at: jadepietro@rcn.com

I had never heard of the performers, but have apparently enjoyed their contributions thousands of times. Praise to the producer and director for their headliner contributors. I saw the film at the Minneapolis - St Paul film festival. Merry Clayton came to the screening and sang for us after the showing. That girl still has the pipes. The story about her audition with the Rollings Stones was a hoot. The soundtrack is wonderful. Lisa Fischer has an amazing voice - blew my socks off. Hope the movie comes to a theater near me, so I can hear it again. I thought the director did a wonderful job of balancing the contributions of the headliners with the life stories of the singers. It was a treat to hear them do their thing out in the spotlight.

There are some people who toil anonymously in the music business: session musicians, recording engineers, producers and so on. And then there are the backup singers. Many of those, probably most dream of being out front, becoming a star, and gaining worldwide fame, applause, respect.

For most, it doesn't happen. Once in a while somebody breaks through: Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Elton John, Barry Manilow, Sheryl Crowe, Phil Collins. More often, it's a day job, and they are called for sessions, sing their part and go home. Sometimes they will be a permanent part of the act, like the Raylettes with Ray Charles, but they don't get the big rewards the upfront star does.

Such is the story of "20 Feet From Stardom", where we meet a half dozen or more who have had a career in the back light, occasionally getting the break to record their own album, and then ... nothing. Darlene Love was the voice of the Crystals, except Phil Spector kept slapping somebody else's name on her recordings and she got nothing. (She ended up cleaning houses for a living. But two years ago, in much belated recognition, she was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.) Merry Clayton is another; she's the haunting female lead on the Stones "Gimme Shelter", but as a solo artist she just never took off.

It's a well constructed film, and if a bit indulgent here or there, it's just a matter of choice in the editing booth, not a failure of the director to deliver.

If you have any interest in the music industry, or have ever thought of a career as a singer, this is a great lesson on the realities of that business. (This would also apply to acting, where "That Guy" did a similar riff on that equally competitive business.

Of course it's worth noting that while there are lots of people "20 Feet from Stardom", there are legions more who never even get that close, and who wind up singing in saloons, street corners, and even subway stops. It's a tough world out there. "20 Feet From Stardom" picks a point closer to the pinnacle, but not quite, and that's what makes it interesting.