A Band Called Death

A bittersweet tale involving the intensity of rock and roll of the wildest, most bracing sort, the vindication of art and the uncompromised vision of a dreamer, an artist like so many, who had to die before the world caught on to his genius.

A heartwarming tale of the strong bonds of family and the unknown surprises lurking in almost all of our pasts.

A film where the heroic role of the rescuers and redeemers is taken up by record collector nerds and glasses-wearing hipsters (YAY!)

A story that, like all the greatest documentaries, is true, but feels so much like a feel-good Hollywood fairy tale that you can't believe it all really happened. But it did.

This is really corny, but hey, when a film is this good, why not indulge in the oldest possible style of film hype: You'll Laugh! You'll Cry! You'll Cheer! Go See A Band Called Death! The Most Feelgood film of the year with the word death in the title!

If you like this, check out "Anvil! The Story of Anvil." Just as tearjerking and entertaining.

David, Bobby and Dannis Hackney are not legends in the world of punk rock, and it's a shame they are not a part of the punk rock lexicon. While they are not necessarily the progenitors of punk rock, they were raucous and loud enough to predate other well known bands like The Ramones, Iggy and the Stooges, Sex Pistols, The Damned and many, many others. It's unclear how influential they would have been, but it is clear they had a boat load of talent.

While one might think the story of a lost band would be the theme of the film, it actually turns out to be a story about family. The Hackney brothers stood together though a lot of problems, whether it was due to the strange dislike to their name, the racial politics of being a African American rock band in Detroit, the eventual pushback they got for morphing into a Christian rock band or just the division between the virtuoso guitarist David and his two more pragmatic brothers Bobby and Dannis. The family is front and center in the whole documentary, because it was ultimately a younger generation of Hackney's that helped the world discover their music.

You see, the three sons of Bobby Hackney helped bring the music to the masses, and now the band has a much bigger following than it ever had. It continues the element of how important family was to the band's dynamic, even after the loss of David Hackney in 2000.

The documentary wasn't able to follow the brothers post life after 2012, but they recorded another album and continue to bask in the positive fall out of the band's reemergence. Needless to say, this is a nice documentary about music, family and life.

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."