I’ve always been more of a Peter Tosh or Burning Spear fan than that of Bob Marley. My leanings are much more political and rebellious than Marley’s later work, but I still appreciate his music and impact on global culture. His earlier, more militant efforts for black unity and self reliance were the breeding ground of his better music, and it is this music that is celebrated in Arfrica Unite. This is precisely why I think Marley is rolling in his grave now. Ziggy Marley and some of the other Marley children have been aping their father’s visage for years now, and it continues here. Profit is the order of the day complete with Coca-Cola ads and celebrities like Danny Glover. It’s actually sickening.
Having seen the Melody Makers live (basically a rotating band of Bob‘s offspring), I can say that Ziggy is the best copy of his father the family has produced. The revolting and shameful acts of siblings Damian and Julian are pale imitations of their father, while Ziggy has, at least somewhat, attempted to branch out on his own. It is regrettable then, that in Africa Unite, they are all here covering songs in front of massive projections of stock Marley clips, instead of showcasing the music that owes so much debt to their father. The music plays second fiddle, though, to the social aims of director Stephanie Black. She basically uses it as score, and periodically cuts back the bands in performance to remind us that this is a concert film after all. The film is more a tour diary of a Pan-African Unity traveling concert conducted in Marley’s name, than anything else, and the music is quickly left behind.
Besides the concert footage the film features respected historians and African political figures espousing why his music and words resonate with the African people. It becomes quite funny to glimpse some white faces in the crowd. Sporting Rasta hats and dreads, the descendents of the oppressors do not seem to notice their own hypocrisy. This is the only humor the film has to offer though, as it sticks to a very slapdash editing style emphasizing the gravity of the material.
The concert footage is juxtaposed with interviews of modern African youths and legends of Rasta culture and Jamaican music. The interviews with the people that were there then are mostly excellent. Former members of the Wailers and other musicians provide a nice touchstone for people unfamiliar with the political history behind reggae. The young people, on the other hand, seem totally oblivious to most of the larger meanings that the filmmakers and concert promoters are claiming to be reaching towards. It is telling that half a world away most of these kids seem like they could be from Philadelphia, LA, NYC, or Chicago. They belong to a more modern youth culture, one very dissimilar to that of the heyday of Jamaican reggae. Because of this, their sections seem disjointed, and don’t fit well within the larger context of the film.
One aspect that does work is the copious use of stock footage with Ken Burns Jr. style narration. These pieces illuminate the real struggle that some fought for, and their lost opportunities. Filmmaker Stephanie Black even goes further to splice a few bits of film from the perspective of the Afrikaners and the British who dominated much of the continent. These clips dovetail with the narrated sections to show the true depth of oppression that Africans lived under and the legacy they are trying to shed .
It is too bad then that the film is ultimately undone by the heavy handed, and often naïve, talk of the Marley children, and Rita Marley (Bob’s widow), in particular. To hear them, you might think that Bob Marley was a liberating political figure who through sheer will and force of personality was going to bring peace and freedom to all the world. The sad reality is that Marley has been reduced to a low rent Che Guevara. He will be forever relegated to the t-shirts and posters that upper middle class white American college students use to adorn their dorm rooms. In the end that does his music a disservice.
“Africa Unite: A Celebration of Bob Marley’s Vision” reaches high, but falls so short.