December 9-16, 2004

movies

Invitation to the Blues

initials b.b.: B.B. King rules Lightning in a Bottle.

Lightning in a Bottle's musical history.

by Cindy Fuchs

"This is the survivors' club," announces Ruth Brown. As the camera looks over the musicians assembled for a commemoration of the blues at Radio City Music Hall in February 2003, her description, at once personal and communal, makes clear the pain and joy that make the music. "In my lifetime, it's a very special day, and it's a long time coming on."

Lightning in a Bottle, Antoine Fuqua's documentary of that remarkable concert, is at once deliberate and agile, showcasing the performances with appropriate reverence as well as provocative energy. This remarkably dynamic mix, captured by ingenious cinematographer Lisa Rinzler, is initiated by the program's structure; executive producer Martin Scorsese (producer of a 2003 miniseries on the blues) introduces the show as a narrative "history," meaning it takes up a chronological order with illustrative backdrops (film clips of Leadbelly, Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker, as well as photos and historical documents such as slave-auction announcements).

Part temporal and part geographic, the journey begins with African-born Angélique Kidjo's moving performance of the traditional "Zélie," prefaced by the assertion, "They took away our people, they took away our drums, but there is one thing they did not succeed in taking away, and that is our voice." The collective voice that emerges includes performances by Mavis Staples ("See That My Grave is Kept Clean"), David "Honeyboy" Edwards ("Gamblin' Man"), Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown ("Okie Dokie Stomp"), Bonnie Raitt ("Coming Home"), Solomon Burke ("Down in the Valley"), and the sensational Buddy Guy, who tells his own allusive story, as he incarnates a bridge between generations and styles, Muddy Waters and Jimi Hendrix, who drew on Guy's work as Hendrix in turn inspired the jaw-droppingly brilliant Guy.

The circle comes round again when Guy returns for another, apparently unplanned performance, convinced by Kidjo to back her on Hendrix's "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)." It's a rousing collaboration—with Vernon Reid as well—all participants looking as thrilled to be conjuring their magic as you are to hear them. While it's a little jarring to note the well-heeled audience for this perfect evening, it's easy to lose yourself in the incredible execution, with a house band that includes Dr. John, Keb' Mo', Levon Helm, and the night's musical director, Steve Jordan.

The show doesn't so much build to a climax as it does continuously excite, from India.Arie's performance of "Strange Fruit" and Macy Gray's strangely evocative "Hound Dog" to Steven Tyler and Joe Perry's consummate "I'm a King Bee" and Chuck D and the Fine Arts Militia's revision of John Lee Hooker's "Boom Boom" as a magnificent anti-war anthem. Watching Chuck D in a suit explode all over the stage underlines the ways that music transcends genre and expectation to inspire movements of bodies as well as communities. The final performer of the night, B.B. King, recalls an early performance of "Sweet Sixteen" when he was booed by a Southern audience who rejected the "blues" as a concept. By the time he was done playing, he says, they were won over. And how could they not be? His show this night, with American-flag guitar strap, reveals the power of the blues to uplift and sustain.

(c_fuchs@citypaper.net)