THE BALLAD OF RAMBLIN' JACK A film review by Steve Rhodes Copyright 2000 Steve Rhodes RATING (0 TO ****): ** 1/2
Locally, THE BALLAD OF RAMBLIN' JACK has been attracting some of the biggest audiences that I've ever seen for a documentary. (Yes, I'm excluding THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT, which isn't a documentary no matter what its fans want to believe.) Why this documentary is so popular, while many much better ones haven't been as well attended, is a bit of a mystery. But as one whose favorite film genre is documentaries, I'm pleased. For the record, 35 UP was my favorite film of the past decade, and HOOP DREAMS was close behind.
THE BALLAD OF RAMBLIN' JACK takes a traditional approach of using talking heads and old film footage to tell the story of Ramblin' Jack, a.k.a., Jack Elliott. A folk singer whose claim to fame was more his connections than his music, Jack hung out and played with just about every popular folk singer that you can think of. Personally, I found Jack's singing abilities to be -- well -- passable. Even one of his own relatives says that he should have taken singing lessons.
The documentary, which was made by Jack's daughter Aiyana Elliott, seems as much a way for her to attempt to establish communications with her aloof father as it is a musical autobiography. She and her mother complain about how Jack would show up a week late without even calling, claiming that he was too busy to telephone. "Did Jack have any talents as a father?" Aiyana asks her mother. The question sends her mother into a bout of snickers since she has no answer. Finally, she admits that he had none but claims he was, nevertheless, a positive influence.
THE BALLAD OF RAMBLIN' JACK feels less like a motion picture than the Elliott's home movies as narrated by the daughter. I can recall few documentaries in which the director talked so much. If her insights were more significant, her domination of her movie would have been easier to overlook. To further compound the problem, Aiyana isn't a particularly skillful interviewer, with the result that her talking heads from Arlo Guthrie to Pete Seeger don't have many memorable things to say about their old friend Jack.
Good documentaries can transcend their subject material to make the seemingly uninteresting fascinating. Errol Morris's mesmerizing MR. DEATH about an electric chair designer was the best recent example of this. Aiyana Elliott is an effective collector of material and a good music historian, but her skills as a filmmaker aren't what they should be.
This music documentary must then rise or fall solely on its music footage. Some of it is quite good, but the director keeps cutting away. Rather than hearing entire songs, she wants us to listen instead to yet another talking head reminisce about her father.
Which leads me to a conclusion similar to my advice about BITTERSWEET MOTEL, a much inferior music documentary about the rock band Phish. THE BALLAD OF RAMBLIN' JACK is for folk fans only.
THE BALLAD OF RAMBLIN' JACK runs 1:52. It is not rated but would be a G since it contains nothing to offend anyone of any age.
Email: Steve.Rhodes@InternetReviews.com
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