Worth: $13.50
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Lee Fields, Mark Ronson, Gabriel Roth, Robert Kool Bell
Intro:
... could have been better – and funkier.
This documentary about soul and funk artist Lee Fields has some fantastic music and the man himself has an interesting story, yet it doesn’t quite pull you in as much as it should. The music pulses with energy, but the documentary – which begins with Fields ironing his clothes – feels flat.
Now in his 70s, Fields is a tremendous gospel-influenced singer and performer, with a voice full of emotion, depth and just the right amount of grit. His story begins in North Carolina, 1950. An African-American living amongst racial tension, the young Lee saw the Ku Klux Klan burning crosses. His parents ran a “little speakeasy” from their home on Friday and Saturday nights, where Fields first fell in love with music – and these scenes are wonderfully recreated by first time feature directors Jessamyn Ansary and Joyce Mishaan.
From here, Lee Fields: Faithful Man traces the singer/songwriter’s career across the decades. Fields enjoyed a fairly steady career throughout the ‘70s, and then two things happened… “Everything was just going good,” he says. “I had no idea that things were about to change.” First, the punters moved away from live soul and headed to the disco – work dried up for performers like Lee Fields. But something more serious was about to hit him and his family hard – a life-altering tragedy, which led to Fields and his wife Chris adopting a nephew.
For Fields, music was no longer the centre of life – he let the dreams of soul stardom slip away and concentrated on providing for his family. But more changes lay ahead, and his great talent is eventually rediscovered by another generation – young fans in the music industry who would take Fields’ career to new heights and new audiences.
Fields is a flashy dresser and displays fancy footwork onstage – he’s not quite James Brown, who he’s often been compared to, and is even sometimes called ‘Little JB’ – but he has a stage presence to match his voice. His backing musicians are invariably quality players, but the snatches of fortified funk heard in this doco takes a back seat, with the soulful ballads getting more air time.
Fields – often interviewed with his wife – is an articulate and engaging character but his story’s been told by the filmmakers in a rather straightforward fashion. This is by no means a weak documentary, but it leaves you with the feeling that it could have been better – and funkier.
