I have often described the movie theater as a kind of church for me- but I have never found religion quite like I did at BAM this weekend watching
Amazing Grace (2018). In 1972 Aretha Franklin recorded her first gospel album in a Baptist church in South L.A. It was an historic enough occasion that film cameras directed by Sydney Pollack captured the two nights of concerts and rehearsals. Whether it was imagined to be a television special or Warner Brothers film- due to technical difficulties the resulting footage was never released. After Pollack's passing in 2008, producer Alan Elliott took another crack at it- and thank God he did.
Let's start with Franklin. After hearing this miracle of a voice, how did any artist have the chutzpah to warble ever again? The power, the nuance, the sheer thrill of Franklin's vocals matched with the addictive rhythmic spell of gospel is so electric, it was impossible for the audience to keep their asses in their seats. Like a divine high priestess, Franklin stands erect at the mic, casting her soul and her sweat (there's a lot of sweat) into the music, defying the hardest heart not to erupt in pure joy.
While Franklin is clearly the star- Pollack's camera coverage of the audience and the musical performers and James Buchanan's editing are so deft- that the entire setting feels like an exercise in virtual reality.
The rapturous faces, the 70's styles, and the Black Pride swept us up- and we were all soon applauding for and clapping along to a performance that was over forty years old- as if we were there sitting next to Mick Jagger, be-wigged gospel icon Clara Ward, and Aretha's daddy the right reverend C.L. Franklin, watching a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
I'm not a church-goin' guy, but boy did I leave this concert film with religion. See
Amazing Grace- and let Aretha into your heart.
