He got to the very soul of the blues
Howlin’ Wolf
“The Howlin’ Wolf Story” (Bluebird)
*
If you care about the blues, you’ll likely find this smart, evocative documentary of one of the field’s most charismatic stars infinitely more valuable than all of Martin Scorsese’s recent series of blues films on PBS.
Why did Scorsese ever think that the best way to honor this invaluable musical art form was to ask some of his fellow directors to give us their personal take on the blues? What he came up with, episode after episode, felt either distressingly narrow or sterile.
Here, director Don McGlynn does it right.
In the kickoff volume of a promising Bluebird blues series titled “When the Sun Goes Down,” he gives us a winning portrait of a singer so commanding that you can understand why the Rolling Stones sit at his feet in awe as they watch him perform on a TV show in the ‘60s (a segment in the DVD).
Chester Arthur Burnett, one of six children born in 1910 to a Mississippi farmer and his wife, had such a raw, primal vocal style that it’s no wonder he billed himself as Howlin’ Wolf. Even though he never had enough hits to become as much of a household name as Muddy Waters and other contemporaries, he enjoys enough respect among rock tastemakers to have been voted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
There isn’t a lot of footage of the Wolf available, but McGlynn makes good use of what he found, expanding the story with lots of still photos and interviews with friends and relatives,
“When I heard him, I said, ‘This is for me. This is where the soul of man never dies,’ ” Sam Phillips writes in the liner notes. He’s the Memphis record producer whose list of discoveries stretches from the Wolf to Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash. “The greatest sight you could see would be Howlin’ Wolf doing one of those sessions in my studio .... His eyes would light up and you’d see the veins on his neck, and buddy there was nothing on his mind but that song.”
But it’s not just the intensity of the Wolf’s voice that makes him so thrilling. He was also blessed with a magnetism and humor that helped him stand out in any situation, whether he was on stage or simply sitting behind the microphone at a radio station. This is the first authorized film about Burnett, who died of a heart attack in 1976, and it is marvelous.
-- Robert Hilburn
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