Product: Cadillac Records [Blu-ray] (2008)
Rating: 3.0
Cadillac Records: A Review. 3-1/2 Stars.
It's a musical showcasing unknown artists who perform songs in strange but inventive ways never heard before. It's about their de facto representative, their rise to dizzying success as well as their many troubles and, in some cases, their fall to dreadful lows. It is about their struggles (and agent's maneuvering) to be heard on the radio and thereby sell their records. It's about life in the big city and race relations during times of segregation. It's about addiction. Clubs. Showbiz. Records. Radio. Payola. Loyalty. Flamboyance. Big houses and shiny, new cars. Fidelity and infidelity. Sex. Drugs. Even rock and roll. And, it's a true story. But, it's not "Dreamgirls." Nor is it "Ray." Or "La Bamba." Or even "Hustle & Flow." Although it does bear more than a little resemblance to those films and others of similar ilk.There are so many films of this type that there should be an actual name for this subgenre, one that sticks. This time around, the movie is called "Cadillac Records," a shiny, new vehicle written and directed by Darnell Martin. The storyline truly resembles so many other biographies about the rise of musical legends that it almost need not be explained here, but I'll devote the next three paragraphs to a brief summary, which you may feel free to read carefully, skim sporadically, or skip entirely.I'll bypass the typical backstory the movie features of unprivileged childhoods and young-adulthoods and cut to the chase. The "agent" is really music club proprietor-turned-record label owner Leonard Chess (Adrien Brody: "The Pianist"; "The Darjeeling Limited"), who firsts discovers a skeptical but talented Muddy Waters (Jeffrey Wright: "Syriana"; "Quantum of Solace") at his club in Chicago before it burns to the ground. Chess then takes a gamble by replacing the club with Chess Records, signing, as his first artist, Waters, a bluesman previously seen playing curbside, whose Southern upbringing influences the distinct sound of his music. Chess' group of new artists grows to include Muddy's harmonica-playing sidekick Little Walter (Columbus Short), personable and cavalier Chuck Berry (Mos Def, inhabiting his character with an appropriately humorous personality), affable songwriter Willie Dixon (Cedric the Entertainer), imposing, lady-stealing Howlin' Wolf (Eamonn Walker) and independent-minded Etta James (Beyoncé Knowles, in a role with much similarity to her turn in "Dreamgirls" but better realized here). Also in the picture is Chess' devoted wife, Revetta (Emmanuelle Chriqui).All the artists and Chess himself would eventually go on to attain "hall of fame" status but, long before that, had to deal with life in and around the music biz (see the first paragraph), including rampant racial discrimination, which touches even the white-skinned Chess, merely for associating with African-Americans, whether or not they are top musicians whose tunes are copied by other bands, like the Beach Boys, almost verbatim. As Muddy says in the narration, the only time a Black man and a White man could be seen in a car together was if the Black man was driving. In another scene, Berry is thrown out of a club he is scheduled to perform in because, to the management's disbelief, he is not White, as seen in the club's poster portraying him as such. In times of crisis, Chess spends time repeatedly telling his performers that just because they sing the blues doesn't mean they must also live the blues.Why is the movie called "Cadillac Records" and not the more accurate "Chess Records"? Because, Chess made a point of giving each of his successful stars not only a fine house but a shiny, sleek Cadillac, complete with those 1950s tailfins, his own preferred make of dream car since the time he was a man struggling to open his club.The whole affair is a mix of drama, comedy and, yes, music. Plenty of music. The storyline is relatively predictable--we know the general arc of the story not necessarily because anything in Martin's script is a giveaway but because Hollywood film biographies of artists and entertainers tend, unfortunately, to follow similar paths, no matter which medium the artist worked in, or whether the movie concerns a single individual or a larger group, such as this film does. But, as was the case in another show business musical, "Dreamgirls," that fact does not impact on our enjoyment of the music itself. Fans of the music are in for a treat, and will undoubtedly pick up the film's soundtrack (though at my screening, I didn't notice any excitable members of the audience wildly applauding and cheering as when I saw "Dreamgirls," but no matter)."Cadillac Records" is much more low-key than "Dreamgirls" (more similar, perhaps, to "Ray"). Its cinematography and production design (by Anastas Michos and Linda Burton, respectively) are much less dazzling and flamboyant. And it is much less hyped. But it works reasonably well as a film, which, when making a movie, should be the first and foremost goal. Although it is not inspired enough to break away from the typical artist-biography path, it does tell its story better, is better directed, features better acting (Knowles included) and is better accomplished in terms of basic filmmaking technique (e.g., editing) than "Dreamgirls."Nevertheless, like any such musical, the standout feature is the fine music, the whole reason the film exists, crafted for fans and fans-to-be. But you knew that already, didn't you?