NYFF ’16: Two Trains Runnnin’

It is hard to fathom a time when Son House and Skip James were considered “obscure” bluesmen. Today they probably rank somewhere just behind Robert Johnson in the Pantheon of blues, but for decades everything and everyone associated with the old Delta blues were scorned and forgotten. A handful of naïve young record collectors hoped to find the mysterious artists, so their music could reach a wider audience. However, they picked a heck of a time to go to Mississippi—right smack in the middle of Freedom Summer. Sam Pollard chronicles the simultaneous pilgrimages in Two Trains Runnin’ (trailer here), which screens during the 54^th New York Film Festival.

John Fahey had already “re-discovered” Bukka White, but he had his sights set on an even bigger cult legend: the mysterious Skip James, whose plaintive falsetto and eerie lyrics had long fascinated the small circle of blues aficionados. Inspired by Fahey’s past success, fans Nick Perls and Dick Waterman set off in search of Son House, with junior newspaperman Nick Perls in tow. It seems none of them followed current events too closely, because they readily admit they had no idea what they were walking into. Both Waterman and Perls doubt they would have made the trip had they but known.

Fortunately, they blundered ahead, because James and House were key figures in the Blues Revival that emerged out of the folk scene. Perls would later found Yazoo Records and Waterman would become the booking agent for House, James, White, and similarly re-popularized bluesman, including Lightnin’ Hopkins and Arthur Crudup. Of course, while Fahey, Waterman, and Perls were sleuthing through Delta country, civil rights workers James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner were murdered by the KKK.

Perhaps mindful of other recent docs, Two Trains just gives the broad strokes of the Freedom Summer, offering a more detailed chronicle to the blues hunters’ odyssey. Pollard still makes his points, but the film never feels didactic or lecturey. Of course, the music is terrific, starting with the archival recordings of the two legends, as well as a few modern interpretations by the likes of Lucinda Williams and Gary Clark, Jr. (whose own music is also heard throughout the documentary). Pollard changes up the visuals nicely, incorporating appropriate archival footage and some brief animated sequences of the blues hunters, who were not really equipped to record their journey for documentary filmmaking purposes.

If you still don’t get Son House, Skip James, and the appeal of Delta blues after watching this film than you’re beyond help. It is also rather fitting and telling to watch the two historical narratives unfold in parallel. Recommended for blues fans and general audiences, Two Trains Runnin’ screens this Thursday (10/13) and Friday (10/14) as part of this year’s NYFF.

Axe Love: It Might Get Loud

If a rock doc doesn’t get loud, fans will want their money back. However, some of the more interesting moments of the great guitar summit featuring Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White, are in fact relatively quiet. Indeed, all three rock stars prove engagingly eloquent when discussing their instruments in Davis Guggenheim’s It Might Get Loud (trailer here), opening in New York and Los Angeles this Friday.

Loud’s concept is nearly foolproof: get together three rock guitarists with legit credibility as musicians to discuss music and jam. Each man is at a slightly different place in life, but all share a love of guitars. Former Zeppelin and Yardbirds guitarist Jimmy Page is a rock legend with nothing left to prove, yet he still has a zest for music. As the lead guitarist of U2, The Edge is currently at the pinnacle of the music business. Having attained some measure of commercial and critical success as part of the duo The White Stripes, as well as a reputation for eccentricity, White hopefully has a long, interesting career ahead of him.

While their harmony vocals on “The Weight” will not become the stuff of the legend, they show an easy rapport when talking about and through their axes. Of course, the three guitarists clearly come to rock, but the deep delta blues lurks beneath the surface of Loud, bubbling up during White’s sequences. Since the White Stripes previously covered “Death Letter,” their fans might already know Son House is the guitarist’s greatest formative inspiration. Watching him listen to the blues legend’s “Grinnin’ in Your Face” is quite an endearing moment for the garage rocker.

Before the summit, Loud shows each musician on his home turf, sometimes revisiting the sites of pivotal moments in their musical lives. Page might have the best reminisces, having played on some pretty diverse studio gigs before becoming a rock star, even including Shirley Bassey’s Goldfinger session. Now he looks like a silver-maned English barrister, who ought to have a Dickensian name like “Gogglesworthy.” He can still play though.

White also displays some real down home charm, playing an endearing rendition of “Sitting On Top of the World” with his nine year-old son Little Jack. However, the cerebral Edge’s penchant for electronic effects and sound board tinkering comes across as a bit bloodless and premeditated. After all, isn’t rock supposed to be a little ragged round the edges?

Guggenheim, the director of An Inconvenient Truth, wisely forgoes the PowerPoint presentations and junk science in Loud. His strategy of using their music as a means of getting the artists to reveal their personalities works more often than not. Though White’s inclusion with the two more established artists might seem a bit questionable, he delivers some of the film’s more entertaining moments.

Ultimately, Loud might be a film for the considerable fan bases of the three artists’ respective bands, but it has an infectious guitar love that should hold the interest of wider audiences, even throwing several bones to die-hard blues fans. It is a pleasant music documentary, even for those who are not hardcore rockers. It opens Friday (8/14) at the Sunshine and AMC Empire 25 Theaters.