Get on Up (2014)

Having just arranged to see Ain't Too Proud on stage next month, I was in the mood for another musician biography in the meantime. On a whim, I went to the library and picked this out. I knew that it had a somewhat lower IMDb score than anticipated, but with Chadwick Boseman as James Brown, how bad could it be?

Like probably most viewers, I knew Brown's music better than his life. This telling goes from his ill-treated, impoverished preadolescence in 1939 to his aging stardom in 1993, so we miss the one scandal I already knew of: his 2004 arrest for domestic abuse. In truth, we miss a lot of details, which is the most common complaint about the film. But it would take far too many hours to cover every item of interest pertaining to this larger-than-life figure, so I for one am content to get an incomplete yet duly varied picture. And the inaccuracies noted so far on IMDb aren't too important.

In a rather brisk 139 minutes, it does something that every biopic ought to do: achieve balance. The filmmakers do not idolize the man; he misbehaves greatly in more ways than I can enumerate, ultimately losing even his most enduring partner, Bobby Byrd (Nelsan Ellis). At the same time, it wouldn't leave you thinking, "Why does anyone like this guy?" Brown was not just talented but publicly charismatic enough to insist on a concert and still avert a riot right after the MLK assassination.

And yes, Boseman nails the impression. The most amazing thing is that he'd had no prior singing or dancing experience. Apparently, he'd been chosen in part for having grown up around the same area. In a matter of weeks, he could completely channel Brown, leaving no trace of himself according to people who know him. He's not the only class act herein -- Brandon Mychal Smith as Little Richard comes to mind, as do Viola Davis as Brown's mom and Octavia Spencer as his aunt -- but like the real Brown, he commands all the attention.

I suppose that no bio of an African American who rose to fame in the mid-20th century would be complete without acknowledgement of racism against him. Here it's not strongly present for long; the most blatant examples concern what an exec thinks will sell to target audiences. Brown himself uses a few slurs, lumping his agent, Ben Bart (Dan Aykroyd), into "the white devil" to his face. But in a semi-reversal compared with Straight Outta Compton, they become closer up until Bart's death. I appreciate that.

Basically all the issues I have are in the style of direction (pity; Tate Taylor did fine on The Help). For instance, the pacing, while never dull, may work against the movie's efficacy. We barely see Brown doing drugs. Only one short scene depicts him abusing a wife. We get a few more indications of his infidelity but see only two of his four wives. Perhaps dwelling further on things like these would risk us losing all respect for him, but his positive moments also tend to get short shrift. Certainly there were several times I wished to hear more of a song.

The nonlinear format, especially early on, presents another problem. I never got lost amid the changing timeline, partly because changes were aptly labeled (with nicknames for Brown in addition to years), but it's jarring all the same. Had I directed, I would've started with one scene well into his career, gone back to his childhood, and presented the rest sequentially. That may be predictable, but at least no one questions the reason for it. Of course, as we see, Brown himself had a habit of bucking conventional wisdom in music, often to good effect, so perhaps Taylor had something like that in mind.

The other jarring part consists of Brown breaking the fourth wall. Each time, I needed a second to realize that he had turned to the camera and was talking to us. He does it only thrice by my count, starting pretty late in the picture, without changing his distinctive speech style. You could get away with that in a comedy, but a serious piece like this requires either more usage of the method or none.

The next Ray it isn't, but GoU is still enjoyable. I am glad I saw it at home rather than in a theater, if only because I could easily do as the title says. Or "get up offa that thing," if you prefer. Yeah, that was my preferred dance number, both near the beginning and at the end credits.