Marley (2012)

Directed by: Kevin Macdonald | 144 minutes | documentary, music | Starring: Bob Marley, Ziggy Marley, Jimmy Cliff, Cedella Marley, Rita Marley, Cindy Breakspeare, Lee Perry, Lee Jaffe, Chris Blackwell, Bunny Wailer, Constance Marley, Danny Sims, Peter Marley

Somewhere in the Jamaican interior, dozens, possibly hundreds, of wooded hills rise like eggs from the soil. The deep green area has a Tolkienesque beauty and has a recurring, hypnotic role in the feature-length documentary ‘Marley’. If there is a country somewhere where fairy tales come true, the thought seems to be, it is here. It was true for at least one fairy tale, even if the ending was a bit out of tune: that of Robert Marley. How the bastard son of a black mother and white father, born in a sleepy hole, raised in a hard-core ‘deprived neighborhood’, could become an icon with a musical impact akin to that of The Beatles, and a recognizable identity akin to Marilyn’s monroe.

Anyone who would suddenly be confronted with the name Bob Marley in a Rohrschach test must be strong not to immediately say “Reggae!” to call. Because even if Bob Marley is not the original source and every tree has many roots, his name simply symbolizes this idiosyncratic music stream. But just as reggae is more than Marley, this documentary from Scottish director Kevin Macdonald (‘The Last King of Scotland’) reminds you that Marley is much more than reggae – without being preachy or propagandistic. The self-assured, ‘militantly peace-loving’ way in which the singer lived (expressed in his lyrics) spoke and appeals to people all over the world. To show that, ‘Marley’ goes beyond the obvious images of screaming Japanese (“They probably didn’t understand the lyrics, but they sang along with every word.”) and bobbling Brits. For example, the documentary examines the somewhat curious fact that the concerts of Bob Marley and his band (The Wailers) in the US were attended almost exclusively by whites for a long time. Nothing wrong with that, but of course a trick was devised to conquer the large African-American audience. By the time that episode is revealed, documentary is well over halfway done.

Macdonald has opted for a conventional chronological narration to meticulously bring Bob Marley and his music to life over two and a half hours. The somewhat mundane form seems to reflect the austere lifestyle of Macdonald’s subject. He even died as mere mortals die, so not from an overdose, not from overconsumption, nor from a bullet (though the latter certainly could have). Even in life, Bob Marley did not seem to want to succumb to stardom, without forgetting the political and social value of his status. If he ever took his feet off the ground, it was to dance, to play football, or to seduce a woman. Although: it would mainly have been the women who seduced the (shy) singer. He was approachable anyway, according to eyewitnesses: every day crowds of compatriots appeared in front of the hospitably opened entrance gate of his Jamaican Villa Kakelbont, who personally came to ask Uncle Bob for help. True or not, such an anecdote befits a man whose name so transcends his temporal physicality.

In ‘Marley’ the stories are visual, and the images are narrative. They play a well-orchestrated game with each other and with the soundtrack, creating a convincing biography of that half-blood kid from that corrugated iron village, which in the end even the Jamaican Prime Minister could not ignore. ‘Marley’ strings together key moments in the life of the legendary Jamaican. Cause and (musical) effect convincingly indicate the measure. It gives the documentary an air of necessity and this episodic portrayal of an intense but short life an aura of completeness and objectivity. Not four or five, but dozens of ‘talking heads’ contribute to this, in a steady, rhythmic, moving procession. Some you see once and then never again, others get old and familiar. It’s a bold choice that goes against modern movie laws (“lots of people talking = boring”). But here she works, because all those static voices under the direction of Macdonald merge into one adept and dynamic narrator, like the old iron-eater Robert S. McNamara who was solo in the Oscar-winning documentary ‘The Fog of War’. ‘Marley’ = beautiful.