Under African Skies (2012)
Directed by Joe Berlinger
***SPOILERS***
Under African Skies
does everything a documentary should do…but also everything a documentary
shouldn’t do. It’s a stunning exposé that captures the heart of Paul Simon’s
most famous album Graceland—and it
owns the same finger-pointing debate tactics Michael Moore accusingly throws at
his opponents. It touches its central artistic masterpiece with the same
gravitas and divinity as Bill Cunningham
New York did with Bill Cunningham—and sheds none of the flattering,
convincing light that Waiting for
Superman did for the United State’s malnourished education system. For
instead of wholeheartedly capturing the magic of Graceland, director Joe Berlinger bafflingly splits Under African Skies into two films: one
that tells Paul Simon’s story, and another that distastefully and gratingly
paints Simon as an innocent bystander amidst political controversy.
Distasteful because claiming ignorance in the face of a
repulsive apartheid seems a bit inadequate and unconvincing, but grating
because Berlinger’s defense for Simon unavoidably lies within the film itself. More genuine
than Simon sitting on a couch and directly preaching his argument to the audience, the very opponents of
Graceland were contradicting themselves as they exhorted Simon's lack of direct
aid to the victims of South African apartheid. For as the viewer witnesses the ethereal structure
and composition of one of the 1980s most popular and significant albums, we see Simon’s defense
taking shape all on its own. These protestors claimed Simon, in his state of
power, was obligated to publicly take the side of apartheid’s victims and
physically reach out to the dismembered country. They expect Simon to become a
bigger version of their efforts, but that’s where the contradiction lies: while
the little people complained of the big man’s nonexistent efforts to
promote peace, Simon indeed united South Africa’s cause with the entire world
through music. Revolution is bigger than protests and revolts, and the balance
was indeed found between activists and Simon, despite an absence of
acknowledgement. So while the Mbaqanga and Mbube sounds of South Africa
filtered their way through American Pop/Rock, Simon was actually inadvertently
serving a just cause.
Isn’t that a great way to portray your central figure? Paul
Simon unknowingly and unselfishly aids in apartheid by doing what he always
does: striving to make great music. But this film is split in parts, and a
decent chunk belongs to Simon’s unrelenting defense. He scolds an orderly
gentleman who allowed Simon to tell his story uninterrupted; he speaks of his
past ignorance regarding race relations as a superlative juncture in his
argument; he looks into the camera and begs for the viewer to believe he
couldn’t possibly do any wrong. Berlinger rarely places a convincing argument
against Simon in front of the camera, choosing instead to highlight
blood-hungry college students who mindlessly accuse Simon of extorting African
music without a legitimate argument and no central focus—practically mirroring Simon's babbling defense. No, Simon is the
awestruck artist unfairly caught in the middle of a political game, which is
actually true, but instead of letting the power of music be our guide, Simon
constantly inserts himself, asking for you to understand that, hey, it wasn’t
his fault!
It’s really too bad, because Under African Skies—despite its pubescent approach towards
debating—is ultimately an affective documentary when its not prodding the
viewer. Apparent through its structure, Berlinger is first and foremost
dedicated to breathing life into Graceland,
allowing the album to take shape and fundamentally become the film’s main
character. The early composition of Graceland
owns nothing poignant, the with film merely portraying Simon as somebody
unpressured by his record company to produce a hit single and lots of money to burn, but the
unfolding of Graceland is truly
surreal, with each of its components falling into place serendipitously.
World-class accordion players; the famed A Cappella group Ladysmith Black
Mambazo divinely breathing life into “Homeless”; improvisational guitarists and
drummers cheerfully and modestly building towards the hit song “Diamonds on the
Soles of Her Shoes.” There was never a sense of politics or racial struggles in
the air, but only a shared love of music.
The manner in which Berlinger structures the film works in
several ways, but ultimately tears the film apart. Most pointedly, we sense the
camaraderie between Simon and his South African band mates when he revisits the
country on Graceland’s 25th
anniversary. They hug and laugh, reminiscing of old times, only for the film to
directly cut to those old times, displaying the same love and enthusiasm for
music existed then as it does now. There was never any plight to create a
revolutionary album, and likewise, there’s no conceitedness surrounding the
reunion. The formation of Graceland
is paired with stories of the album’s participants and treks along African’s
countryside, capturing the atmosphere and importance of African music in regard
to its inhabitants. Once again, portraying the dedication that runs deep
between Africans and their ancient, idiosyncratic melodies goes beyond a
fondness for music—it’s a love that’s amplified by a way of living, in which
music becomes every bit as important as eating and breathing. Music is a way of
life, and music is survival. In the face of apartheid, this very gripping realization
goes further in advocating Simon’s cause than any self-contained argument ever
could, liberating him of accusatory statements regarding his integrity and his
appreciation of African music.
Luckily for Simon, Berlinger dedicates a generous portion of
Under African Skies’ runtime to Graceland’s formation and composition,
leaving only the final third to “vindicate” Simon. But this is where we see
Berlinger’s flawless structure finally crumbling beneath itself. Instead of
intermixing arguments against Simon’s cause and images of South African
apartheid with Graceland’s dreamlike
genesis, Berlinger dedicates the film’s final moments to Simon’s self-professed
defense, which never holds any true emotional weight without a backdrop. It
would have allowed Simon’s argument to speak for itself, but instead its
crippled by the banal, prostituted political back-and-forth argument, which
sadly holds the same gravitas as two kindergarten students arguing over who
spilled the milk. Strangely, Berlinger’s own ineptitude regarding structure and
debate fecklessly allows Under African
Skies to shine unscathed—however unfortunate it may appear for Simon’s
character—because politics cannot diminish the power of Graceland and its ultimate significance in the music world. For as
Berlinger confoundingly allows Oprah fucking Winfrey to blithely profess her
love of Simon’s Graceland and Stevie
Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life, we
see a man attempting to exculpate Simon in the cheapest ways possibly.
Fortunately for Simon, the sheer power of music will always reign over petty
arguments and showcased celebrities, and he can be rest assured that nothing
can diminish the unstoppable force that was Graceland.
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