A Band Called Death

This film is about more than music, Band names or 'firsts'. "A Band Called Death" is about FAMILY, FAITH and BROTHERHOOD. Loved every frame.

There's an undercurrent of disappointment throughout the story of a band called Death. Misunderstood and marginalized in their time, they endured a lot of rejection and settled into lives that turned out differently than for what they had hoped. Then, after their music is rediscovered and shared, they reunite, but with a heavy heart knowing their visionary leader did not live to see the rebirth. And yet, through that malaise, the band's story is one of joy, familial devotion, and believing in something so strongly, it can't help but come true. It shows that powerful art can create double lives. It shows the unknown pleasures of digging into the past for the untold stories. And the songs? Dang man, these songs slay.

Stuck in the shadow of Searching for Sugar Man, this tale of an all-black protopunk band from Detroit hits many of the same notes, but plays its own tune. This is a film whose appeal may be more limited than Sugar Man due to the hard and raw style of the band in question, but the music unearthed is no less vital.

Death's story is told mostly from the perspective of Bobby and Dannis Hackney, the bassist/vocalist and drummer, respectively. They recount the birth of Death and walk you through some of the places of note. We're robbed of the opportunity to hear from who we learn is the driving force behind the band, guitarist David Hackney, who sadly passed away from lung cancer in 2000. He does make appearances in the movie in the form of audio recordings and you get a sense of the unique viewpoint that gave the band its vision through these recordings and his brothers' recollections.

It's that vision that shaped Death, and ultimately, limited their potential. Being steadfast about not changing the name of the band, David felt the name went with the concept he had for the band and, as such, he was resolute. Even when record mogul Clive Davis came knocking – loving the music but hating the name – David chose to pass the opportunity by rather than compromise. This, in a nutshell, is the answer to the great mystery of how they were deprived their stardom. Fortunately, the film has more to offer than that.

It's watching Bobby's sons, and the effect his early music has on them that provides the film with its heart and makes it more than a just sad story about how elusive fame may be. Their drive and determination to get their father's music out by-any-means-necessary is inspiring to watch. The excitement with which they recall finding out their dad is a rock pioneer is written all over their faces. Bobby had instilled in his sons a deep appreciation of music of all kinds, just like his father had done for him, and it turned out they appreciated his music most of all.

Sounding like Love, The Who, Buzzcocks, The Saints, The Damned and The Real Kids all playing with The Stooges' gear, it's easy to see why there was so much excitement for Death's recent rediscovery. Chance plays such a big part in any musical success, it's little wonder that so many great artists fall through the cracks. One supposes that with the success of Searching for Sugar Man, these documentaries attempting to right musical wrongs might become their own subgenre. If that's the case, you can count me as an early enthusiast. These stories speak to the longevity of art and the way it sits there patiently, waiting to be discovered and the magic that happens when you do. As Henry Rollins puts it, "It's one of those things that keeps you going to the record store hoping for another great story like that."

"What good will it do to gain the world and lose your soul?" (Mark 8:36)

At some point in our lives, most of us surrender our dreams to responsibilities of life. Family, mortgages, and the careers to sustain them. All these things of life. Some necessary. Some necessary evils. And all those unfulfilled dreams follow us to our graves. Let's face it, for most of us, it takes balls to follow your dreams, because it takes balls to fail big.

"Death", and its lead-man David Hackney, had the balls to follow their dreams. Bound by faith, family, and an unshakable confidence, they followed their dream despite the odds stacked against them. They weren't afraid to fail big. They knew that their music and their vision for the band had risks.

Listening to their music, it's evident that they were way ahead of their time, and yes, unfortunately, not what the mainstream audience expected. But still, they persisted past the rejections, disappointments and heartaches, buoyed by family loyalty and love of music.

The bright light shining through the disappointment and heartache, is the love of family. The the real core and power of this movie, is how your family's love and faith doesn't fail, even when everything else has.

Here's to the dreamers. Your dreams will be realized long after your departure. Your dreams will be your legacy and your loved ones the beneficiaries.

Rock on, all you misfits.

If, by the title, you suppose this is a documentary about sour grapes, i.e., some pre-Ramones, The Clash, or even The Sex Pistols punk band that never got its props, you're mistaken. There's not an iota of bitterness among these guys who stubbornly defied all odds, most of which were housed in their home town Motor City. I mean, what could have possessed three black teenage brothers to think they could form a prototype punk rock band just blocks away from Berry Gordy's mellow soul factory known as Hitsville USA? Having nothing more than British rock band singles, insurance-money instruments, and cloud formations to guide them, DEATH did it. (Note to my friendly reviewers: they weren't just the prototypical "black" punk rock group, but the forerunning "punk rock group" of any color...period.) But being so original, so very far ahead of the curve, came at a cost. Now therein lies the supremely inspirational message of "A Band Called Death" that anyone can leap into like a mosh pit. It took thirty-five years--35 friggin' years!--before surviving brothers Bobby and Dannis got their recognition. Sadly, David, the group's visionary, passed away years earlier, emotionally drained and physically terminal. Although only old tapes of David are featured in the film, his haunting presence throughout the film is undeniable. By the time you hear David's son share his emotions about hearing his deceased father's voice on a cult-hit record, you'll choke back tears. Even if you're not a punker, a funker, or a rocker, you owe it to yourself to check out this inspiring documentary. Dreams deferred don't always shrivel, sometimes they hibernate. So if you miss DEATH's story this time around, the group will wait, patiently, for as long as it takes. They're accustomed sleepers. But mark AfroPixFlix's words (and his nine forks of good judgment), you'll not long be able to escape DEATH's grip.