Open Mic Night

At The Dietrich

by
Hildy Morgan

So. Can you believe that the spring film festival is right around the corner? Literally? In two weeks it will be gala night! How fun is that? And as always, Jeffrey has chosen such wonderful films for us. A perfect mix of drama and comedy, of fiction and fact. Now, I’m not that big on documentaries. Probably a main reason is that they look at the sadder or more cruel or whatever side of life and it’s all real so there will be no notice at the end of the picture that "no animals (or children) were hurt in the making of this film. Plus, I love the adventure of fiction – the language and the way the story flows and knowing that this story comes from the mind of an artist and isn’t clipped from a newspaper article. (Not, as Seinfeld would say, that there’s anything wrong with that.) So it might strike you as odd, since I have said all that, that the first film I’m going to talk about to sort of whet your appetite for festival, is the documentary Searching For Sugar Man.

Okay, there are two reasons I want to talk about it. First, it’s already out in DVD, which usually is the kiss of death for a festival film. But I made an exception for this one because it needs to be seen on the big screen in order to properly show its’ beating heart! It’s an exceptional film, all heart, all music, all about what makes a man or woman an artist, all about staying true to your dream, no matter what that dream is, and then, after all that, it’s about the sweet surprises that life can bring you. And, oh, how sweet that surprise is!

Searching for Sugar Man is the story of Sixto Diaz Rodriguez, or just Rodriguez, as he was known in the record industry. In the 1960’s, about the time that Dylan was breaking big, Rodriguez cut two albums. He was so much better than Dylan- - so, so much - -but he didn’t hit big. In fact, he didn’t hit at all. Maybe a relative or two bought an album, maybe a fellow construction worker bought an album, but that would have been about the extent of it. And after that, there would be no more albums and no more hopes about making music as his life’s work.

So he went back to construction work (I don’t think he actually ever left it) and he lived in a little brick house in a seedy section of Detroit, and he wrote songs and he sang them sometimes and he raised his three daughters to love books and music and to be true believers in the arts and what being an artist means. And being an artist doesn’t mean that you’re on the bestseller list, or have a number one album, or that your painting sells for a cool ten mil.. Nope. It’s about how you live your life, how you think of yourself, if you continue to create.

So he wrote, and he played and time passed and even though he was now an old man, he was still an artist to all who knew him.

Meanwhile, back on the ranch….in South Africa…a group of young people raised on the music of Rodriguez, were wondering how he died. Because, of course, they assumed, since he only did two albums (which sold millions of copies in their country) that he was dead. The most popular story of his death was that he had self-immolated, on stage one night, as a protest to something or other. So they set out to find out the real story of his death. And they became sleuths. And they found out he lived in Detroit. And then they found him! Yes! They found the man they thought long gone from this earth!

And they called him! And they talked to him! And they told him something he didn’t know – that he’d sold millions of records in South Africa and had some darn good sales in Australia, too. Of course, he was so surprised. And so happy. True, he’d never seen a dime from those sales, but that wasn’t what his life was about.

Come to South Africa, they said, and do some concerts. He was thrilled. His daughter said she hoped more than 20 people would show up because she loved him so and didn’t want him to be embarrassed. And so the night of the first concert, when over 60,000 fan showed up chanting his name and singing along to every word he’d written, it was the most glorious night anyone could ever have imagined.

Why South Africa? Because his anti-establishment lyrics were the voice of the white anti-apartheid movement! He had inspired a generation and then their children after that to bring justice to their country. From his songs. It’s a grand story. He’s a grand man. I can’t wait to see it on the big screen. And I know you’ll love it, too! Searching for Sugar Man. Put it on the top of your list. It’s one of the most inspirational documentaries you’ll ever see. I promise.

See you at the Dietrich.