‘Mr. Dynamite: The Rise Of James Brown’ Seamlessly Blends Music And History Of Soul Brother #1

James Brown is one of those rare artists whose importance truly can’t be overstated. One of the great American musicians of all time, like Louis Armstrong, Muddy Waters, Elvis Presley or the Ramones, music as we know it would sound completely different without his influence. He helped pioneer both ‘60s soul and ‘70s funk and its debatable whether hip hop would even exist without him. Outside of music, his importance to America’s black community was so great, presidential nominees clamored for the endorsement of “Soul Brother #1,” and civic leaders looked to him to help quell unrest.

While the 2014 documentary Mr. Dynamite: the Rise Of James Brown claims to explore Brown’s beginnings in its title, it actually goes much further. Originally produced for HBO but now available for streaming on Netflix, it’s an in-,depth examination of Brown’s groundbreaking ‘60s work, which doesn’t just chronicle his career highlights, but analyzes his breakthroughs from a musicological standpoint. Additionally, it explores his role as an ambassador for black America, even if his personal politics and behavior sometimes put him at odds with that very same community.

Directed by Oscar-Award winning documentarian Alex Gibney (Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief, Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room), the film begins with footage of Brown at perhaps his artistic zenith; laying waste to audiences on his 1971 European tour with the original J.B.’s. Mr. Dynamite relies heavily on live footage and first person accounts from the members of Brown’s revered backing bands. It’s also the rare music documentary where the talking heads actually have something interesting to say and aren’t just there for their star power. They include Roots drummer Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson and Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger, who is also one of the film’s producers.

The film seamlessly blends James Brown’s music with his life story. As he recalls growing up dirt poor in Georgia, we see footage of him performing “Georgia On My Mind.” You know you’re off to a good start in a music documentary when you’re five minutes in, you’ve already see two good live performances and the only person you’ve heard speak so far is James Brown. When we’re finally introduced to new characters in his life, they too are connected to actual musical moments, such as longtime collaborator Bobby Byrd, whose family took Brown in during his teen years, and can be seen performing with Brown on stage.

Despite his impoverished background, Brown assimilated a wide array of influences before reconstituting them in his own music. He was a fan of big band jazz and swing, jump blues artists such as Louis Jordan, the primal rock n’ roll of Little Richard, and the ecstatic fervor of Gospel music. Speaking of his early days, he says, “The hardest point was being black.” In the pre-Civil Rights Movement American South, blatant and often violent racism was a fact of daily life.

James Brown and The Famous Flames had their first hit in 1956 with “Please, Please, Please.” It would be two and a half years before his next hit record, 1958’s “Try Me,” but Brown made good use of the time, honing his live show on the “Chitlin’ Circuit,” the loose network of clubs that hosted black touring musicians in those days of racial segregation. He pulled out all the stops; dancing, shouting, begging, screaming, before dropping to his knees, covered with a cape – a trick borrowed from wrestler Gorgeous George – and led off stage, only to rush back the microphone for just one last chorus. His reputation as a must-see live act began to supersede his recording career, so in 1963, over his record company’s objections, he released Live at the Apollo, a hit album and one of popular music’s first great live albums.

James Brown’s backing band soon became a destination for some of the greatest musicians of the ‘60s and ‘70s. Horn players such as Maceo Parker and Fred Wesley, drummers “Jabo” Starks and Clyde Stubblefield, and saxophonist and bandleader Alfred “Pee Wee” Ellis molded soul music from R&B roots and jazz chops. Brown meanwhile was a taskmaster, both on and off stage. “The Hardest Working Man In Show Business” demanded musicians’ complete attention, fining them on stage via hand-signals if they missed a musical cue. While traveling they were expected to dress formally, just like their stylishly dressed leader, and act professionally. If their game wasn’t on point, catch another fine. This led to tension with band members, who in 1970 quit en masse. However, Brown then put together an exciting new backing band with younger players, including the Collins brothers, Bootsy and Catfish, who would define the sound of ‘70s funk.

Never wishing to limit his audience, Brown’s appearances on T.A.M.I. Show and The Ed Sullivan Show chipped away at the racial barriers enforced upon black artists. At the same time, Brown’s music was firmly rooted in black musical idioms and the black experience. Following the murder of Martin Luther King Jr., Brown became for all intents and purposes the most important black man in America, and was even famously recruited by the Mayor of Boston to perform on the night of the King assassination in order to dissuade rioting in the city (it succeeded). Brown’s politics, however, swayed from moderate to conservative, and in 1972 he endorsed Republican Richard Nixon, a move that alienated many fans. All was forgiven though in 1974 with the release of “The Payback,” a major hit on both the R&B and pop charts.

That’s sort of where Mr. Dynamite: the Rise Of James Brown ends, a little further down the road from just his “rise.” What they don’t say is it was Brown’s last hit record. They also don’t talk about his fall into drug abuse, his high-speed car chase and conviction on drug and weapons charges, though they do briefly acknowledge his history of domestic violence. However, the point of the film isn’t to bury Brown under his evil deeds, but praise him for his good ones and celebrate the music, whose influence can still be heard today, and on that count, it does a very, very good job.

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician who actually has a degree in poetry. Follow him on Twitter:@BHSmithNYC.

Stream Mr. Dynamite: the Rise Of James Brown on Netflix