My review was written in October 1982 after a New York Film Festival screening.
"Say Amen, Somebody" is a superb documentary feature about the key progenitors of gospel music. Directed by George T. Nierenberg and his team of collaborators have fashioned a model of emotional communications in the non-fiction feature realm, deserving of the widest possible exposure in all media.
In contradistinction to 20th Century Fox''s "Gospel", a well-regarded performance film also headed for the marketplace, "Say Amen" emphasizes the people who sing (and live) the gospel, with the music itself featured amidst footage of their home life and recollections.
Two towering figures are at the film's core: "Mother" Willie Mae Ford Smith (with her family) and Thomas A. Dorsey. Both were instrumental five decades or so ago in bringing the rhythmic "ragtime" form of secular music called gospel into the spiritual church environment, over the resistance of religious figures. Important for the film, both are natural spellbinders in conversation (and in song), communicating colloquially to the camera with an uncanny mixture of humor and emotional fervor.
Nierenberg minimizes his reliance upon still photos and vintage footage, including a performance of the late Mahalia Jackson for historical purposes. Dorsey expounds on the tough early days of his music, his career as a popular blues singer and his writing of standard gospel songs. In a delightful scene, he is upstaged by Smith and his 87-year-old singer/accompanist Sallie Martin, as the women argue over whether the first gospel choir convention originated in Chicago or St. Louis.
Also revealing and moving are scenes of Smith and her family, recalling the old days and pointing up the deep religious faith of gospel practitioners. Despite the proselytizing of the lyrics, the film does not make a sales pitch but wisely stresses the emotional content over the religious.
Performance footage in churches and at a convention spotlights Dorsey, Smith and especially two younger groups. The Barrett Sisters deliver upper-register close harmonies. Sure to rouse any audience, while the O'Neal twin brothers display a rhythmic style closer to popular music (and discuss in bull sessions the need to "come down the middle" to reach the younger people with their music).
Nierenberg has enough coverage (using a 22:1 shooting ratio) to not only keep the film free of filler but to create pointed inserts to listeners with separate sound sources to match. This expertly underlines the basic call-and-response nature of the music, and the viewer of the film is engaged actively in the proceedings by use of surrogate, on-screen interplay. For example, whether listening to a song or a speaker, Mother Smith invariably will interject a pointed comment or verbal endorsement, with her uncanny timing matched by a camera and mic there to record it. Film's title comes from this responsiveness, as Dorsey in the midst of one of his passionate monologues declares: "Say amen, somebody" to the silent film crew. Despite this call, Nierenberg wisely lets his subjects do the talking, fulfilling his role as chronicler and organizer.
Among the top-notch technical credits, editor Fred Barnes deserves singling out for brilliant execution of the director's concepts. Particularly good is a perfectly-matched cut from Mother Smith privately chanting Dorsey's lyric: "Remember me, not just for me but for the work I've done" to her continuing the song in church as the picture's stirring finale. Still awaiting a pickup deal for domestic release, "Say Amen" should sustain a blowup to 35mm and is a clear frontrunner for Academy Award consideration as best documentary.
