Twenty Feet from Stardom

Rather disappointing Academy Award winner for Best Documentary, the more so as it was competing against and won over «The Act of Killing», (photographed by a former student of mine, Carlos Arango de Montis), which is by far the superior work, from any angle that you look at both.

Some people claim that saying this is discrediting the struggle of female backup singers, which I do not believe is true. Those persons judge «Twenty Feet from Stardom» from what they consider is a higher standard of documentary filmmaking. And from that point of view, Morgan Neville's film is at least below the account of Indonesian murderers presently on power, which merited the Oscar or any other award more than the story of Darlene Love, Merry Clayton and others.

Above anything else, this is a sentimental, nostalgic trip dedicated to the unsung talent of many great singers (among them, my friend Táta Vega), told in a fashion reminiscent of a television report, only extended to 90 minutes. There are though some major omissions, as Katherine Anderson Schaffner, an original member of The Marvelettes, a group whose artistic name -according to legend- was lost in a card game by Motown founder Berry Gordy; and ex-Supreme Mary Wilson, who could have told many a few controversial anecdotes, unless the filmmakers consider that she reached stardom during her Supremes years and thereafter.

Maybe the Academy members were trying to make up for ignoring in 2002 two similar (and superior, for me) documentaries, «Standing in the Shadows of Motown» and «Only the Strong Survive» (both from 2002), that were not even nominated.

Greetings again from the darkness. "And the colored girls go do doo doo, do doo ...". The controversial lyrics from Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side" kick off this exceptional documentary about the oft-ignored back-up singers who have played (and continue to play) a huge role in some of the biggest songs of all-time. You may not know their names, but you have undoubtedly sung along with them while driving or taking a shower.

Director Morgan Neville has a credit list filled with music shorts and documentaries. One of my personal favorites of his is The American Masters on Muddy Waters. I recalled that while watching this one because Neville does a nice job of connecting the dots from Gospel, Blues and Soul to the roots of Rock and Roll. The main women featured here all admit to being daughters of preachers, and fine-tuning their ability to harmonize during their youth while singing in the church choir.

Most of the interview time and insight comes from Darlene Love, Lisa Fischer, and Merry Clayton. You may not recognize the names or faces, but you will surely recognize the voices. Ms. Love has been elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and may be best known thanks to her annual appearance on the David Letterman Show at Christmas. Ms. Fischer is the most frequent worker today of the three as she tours with Chris Botti, Sting and The Rolling Stones. However, the heart-stopping climax of the film belongs to Merry Clayton, as we are treated to her isolated vocals from the master on her infamous performance on the single "Gimme Shelter". Hearing her raw voice blast out "Rape. Murder. It's just a shot away" is both exhilarating and gut-wrenching. To hear her tell the story is mesmerizing. One of my favorite movie moments ever.

While we see and hear the personal stories filled with frustration and regrets, we also see an inherent love of music and the appreciation for their particular gift. We also hear from Tata Vega, Dr. Mabel John (a former Raelette for Ray Charles), and Claudia Lennear. With many similar stories of their quest for solo careers, we get the contemporary version with Judith Hill, a twenty-something working back-up today as she strives for a solo career. The parallels are obvious with her older peers.

Another excellent feature of the film comes in the form of interviews from the likes of Bruce Springsteen, Sting, Stevie Wonder, Lou Adler, Chris Botti, and Mick Jagger. We also see some studio shots featuring Phil Spector (once the hottest music producer, now incarcerated), and concert footage of Talking Heads, Ray Charles, The Rolling Stones, and the Concert for Bangladesh. It's especially fitting to see Luther Vandross as a back-up singer to David Bowie's "Young Americans", and to hear from Sheryl Crow, who worked as Michael Jackson's back-up/lead female. These are the examples of the back-ups who successfully made the walk.

My only minor quibble with the film is structural, not content. Neville has an over-whelming task of addressing each of the individual stories, while also relating it to the nasty and unfair music business, the Civil Rights movement, the development of Rock and Roll, and the role that "talent" plays in what Springsteen terms the "complicated" walk from back-up to lead singer (the titular 20 feet). The segment focusing on Merry Clayton's role in Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" is especially poignant. Overall this film is fascinating and entertaining, and makes a great companion piece to Standing in the Shadows of Motown (2002) and Muscle Shoals (2013).

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.

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.

They're the secret weapons behind most of the iconic music of their era but the public rarely knows their names. They take over the world of white backup singers and plain vanilla performances. They come from the gospel world. Darlene Love works under producer Phil Spector who uses her voice and released it as other people. These women are part of some of the most iconic songs ever.

This is a lot of information and a lot of different people. There are plenty of big names and recognizable faces. It's a lot of stories and songs. The first half is more like a highlight reel of fascinating behind-the-scene snippets. There's nothing wrong with that but it does get a little repetitive. The overall flow does allow the flow of time to deliver an overall story of backup singing in general. The second half recounts some of the girls trying to make it on their own and that part is interesting.