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D.The avid Harewood may be British, but on screen he feels like an old-school Hollywood star. The low timbre of his voice and his broad-shouldered physique somehow evokes the leading men of a bygone era, and without a knack for an American accent, he’s one of his heroes, Sidney Poitier. But it’s not a coincidence, and as is the case with many black Britons, Harewood has deep ties to black American culture that make him a performer and a man. Formed as both.
Harewood’s two-part program Get On Up: The Triumph of Black America takes him across America to meet many of the icons he loves. Sadly, Poitier passed away last year, but many others at the forefront of Black American creativity have sat down with Harewood to share what it takes for them to succeed. He learns the moonwalk from Shalamar’s Jeffrey Daniel, the brain behind Michael Jackson’s signature moves. He spends time with John Amos, who recalls playing Kunta Kinte with his velvety baritone in The Roots. And he had his first Black giggle with his Bond his girl, Gloria Hendry.
It’s all so sweet, and the bonds he forms so quickly with his fellow black artists seem genuine, but the tone gets a little frustrating over the course of the documentary. We all agree that Michael Jackson was an incredible talent, but if such a person were to appear in the black diaspora Seeing the impact it’s had, recalling fond memories of watching videos of Moonwalk and thrillers, is an inexplicably shallow look at the incredibly complex issue of – and often disturbing – legacy.
As for Poitier, the burden of representation he carried was immense. Still, the program does not address how it shaped him as an actor and person, or his importance as a role model for many emerging black actors. A clip of Poitier appeared on screen criticizing the way he asked the question, stating: I am an artist, a man, an American, a modern man. I do a tremendous amount of things.
While his scathing assessment of how he is viewed never loses its power, his words, while content to showcase the victory of blacks, allow it Even its title speaks to a bland yet hilarious assessment of a very troubling history. Behind the eponymous Get On Up An artist, James Brown, was neither a simple man nor a pure hero. Shows glasses.
Indeed, even if the “feel good” lens is disingenuous, it’s hard not to feel really good listening to Harewood’s epic narration that reminds us of some great moments in the lives of Smokey Robinson and Stevie Wonder. ‘s interviews with Nile Rodgers and Mony Love are delightful and get to the heart of what has underpinned these figures and their art.
Sadly, others seem content to state the obvious. This hits rock bottom in Robert Malguref’s slow, dull retelling of his encounter with Stevie Wonder. Malgulev has said Wonder played the synthesizer, then the piano, and finally said, “Let’s record it!” There is almost a lack of impressive poetry.
But while the show lacks complexity, Harewood connects so heartily to all these stories that his enthusiasm proves infectious. He’s curated an amazing list of songs and movies to showcase the greats. These icons of Black American culture have pushed the boundaries of what is possible, innovating and defying expectations through their work. It’s never too much trouble to spend time with them, but it’s a shame the documentary spirit isn’t equally rebellious.
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