Rock the Bells

Masterful documentary.

I saw Rock The Bells in Cardiff, Wales during our annual Film Festival and the crowd(who were a fairly mixed crowd of ages and cultural backgrounds) were eating it up. I love the movie and i can't wait for the DVD!!! Extremely exciting. Extremely funny. Extremely visceral- you can't help but empathise with Chang and Carlos's exasperation with the talent. Fascinating for anyone interested in concert promotion, the Wu-Tang or Alt-Hip-hop. Of all the reviews - i concur most with Craig Mathison's for The Age, Ausralia.

One of the best movies i've seen this year.

I saw this movie today at the Widwest Independent Film Festival, and I was blown away. The most exciting documentary i've ever seen, not only about hip hop, which isn't really what it was about, but more so just in general, I have yet to this date seen a documentary quite like this one. This will have you in the edge of your seat, guaranteed. Everybody in the audience, rather black, white, latino, Asian, 20 years old to 80 years old, was laughing and crying and leaning forward all throughout the movie. This is truly a historical piece, considering it is the last time Wu Tang Clan ever performed together on stage with all original members... If it were up to me, i'd have this movie release in 4000 locations, but unfortunately, its not. Sage Francis will tell you that in the movie himself.

Officially, I give this two thumbs up! Only part I don't like is the fact I only have two thumbs.

-Helton Sales Siqueira, aka Brazilionaire

I was not familiar with the Wu-Tang Clan prior to this screening, and I'm only tangentially interested in hip hop culture, but after seeing this I have respect and awe at how strange and powerful the rap world can be. People love this, and now I see why. More important than turning me onto the music, though, was the film's impression to me of the humanness of rappers. I usually notice only how scary or self-aggrandizing they're trying to be, but we get to see their relationships with their children and friends in Rock the Bells. If you have a chance to see this in a theater, TAKE IT. I laughed harder and longer about this than any comedy flick in recent memory. And I was literally on the edge of my seat, waiting to see what happens next. A great movie.

"Rock the Bells" plays out with an almost Shakespearean flow, from it's tantalizing rising action, to its satisfyingly refreshing denouement. A documentary that follows Chang, a concert promoter, who aims to assemble one of the best hip hop concerts of all time, "Rock the Bells" achieves what many documentaries are incapable of doing: showing the participants as living, breathing men and women who actually endeavor to accomplish something. It not only documents the final time the entire Wu Tang Clan performed together, but also shows an inside glimpse into their private, and little-mentioned family lives. With its crisp filmaking, excellent producing, and flawless editing, "Rock the Bells" proves itself to be one of the best documentaries, if not films, of the year.

Rock the Bells is a documentary about festival producer Chang Weisberg who goes all out to re-unite the nine members of the infamous rap group, Wu-tang Clan. This is music from the ground up: the musicians, promoters – everyone involved – are very grass-roots without any big commercial machine to ensure success. Their thousands of fans inhabit a world that is a wide gulf away from anyone who can't listen to a rap song without worrying about the 'tune' or lack of it. As with the early genesis of many music cultures, the music has not only to speak for itself, but to do so against all odds, against the ingrained prejudice of the established industry and views of the mainstream community, and against the hubris and lack of business sense of many of its stars. But dreams always start larger than life, and they need to be extremely big to stand any chance of filling an enormous stadium at between $40 to $80 a ticket. They also need to be more than wishful thinking – Weisberg has re-mortgaged his house at one point to set things up.

There are a number of obstacles to make a film such as this so that it can appeal to people unfamiliar with (or have no interest in) the type of music under consideration. The storyline needs sufficient human interest; there must be at least some insight provided so non-devotees can relate to the art-form; it has to be coherent enough not need specialised knowledge to follow it.

For Chang Weisberg, it is a labour of love. His manner and style is more accessible than the rappers who, especially off-stage, can affect so much dialect as to be near incomprehensible. His belief in the project helps to spark interest. His wife hopes it goes well, remembering how they lived with his mom for ages. We sense she would casually prefer not to go bankrupt but, whatever happens, she is 100 per cent behind her husband's mission. Whether the film helps non-devotees understand rap is more debatable (bearing in mind that, as it will mostly attract fans, this is not an absolute requirement). Emotional insight was provided in the mainstream 8 Mile by building crucial elements of the storyline into the rap contest, allowing viewers to see that rap was about realism and poetry rather than songs where the words were relatively meaningless to a singer's life. Rock the Bells tries rather to let the lyrics stand on their own merit: an aggressive song called 'Makeshift Patriot,' if not fully comprehended, at least conveys a tangible sense of anger and political insurrection. One shortcoming is that, in nearly two hours of sampling of the music and surrounding culture, there is little to counteract a commonly prevailing mainstream notion that rap music is sexist, racist etc-ist: the lyrics, like those of many early folk singers, are written in the dialect and from the social viewpoint of the subculture from which the music springs. Elements such as gun culture, police oppression, the ability to obtain work easily, take on a different context, as do slang words which, in mainstream culture, would be considered rude or offensive (strangely enough, making the film potentially unsuitable for white middle class children as opposed to their underclass counterparts). This is an important area, especially as it causes rap to be feared and denigrated by those who misunderstand it.

As an achievement of film-making, Rock the Bells is a deceptively polished work, capturing not only the build-up to a major music festival but also the chaos that ensues (and is eventually skilfully controlled) from inadequate (low-paid) security, ignorance of logistics, and fans kept waiting for three hours and exhibiting less than dharma-like patience. The tension is red-hot as, with the assembled throng straining at the gates, it is not even definite if the headliner will appear.

Rock the Bells is also a historic performance, being the last performance of a particularly revered performer, Ol' Dirty Bastard. Perhaps this alone will ensure it is preserved until a day when a wider range of filmgoers will appreciate and enjoy it.