Bebopped

 

SOUNDTRACK TO A COUP D'ETAT (A) - I'm guessing this documentary about the 1961 assassination of Congolese leader Patrice Lumumba, as filtered through the lens of jazz music. Don't overthink it. It will either work for you or it won't.

The vision of ambitious writer-director Johan Grimonprez, "Soundtrack to a Coup d'Etat" smolders for two and a half hours, bebopping around the timeline, music performances, and global politics, in particular the heated cold war between the U.S. and U.S.S.R. It can be a challenge to follow at times, but Grionprez is not here to tell a simple, linear story in a conventional format. 

He takes the historical hook of Louis Armstrong being deployed by the CIA to run interference for the Eisenhower administration's targeting of Lumumba for his challenges to the Congolese government and his push for pan-African unity at a time when African countries were finding strength through unity as a voting block at the United Nations. The assassination led two jazz artists -- Abbey Lincoln and Max Roach -- to disrupt a UN gathering in the days after the killing.

But we're not here for a history lesson. Just let the elements wash over you, preferably in a dark theater when you can have a clear mind and need not worry about the outside world. Grimonprez digs deep into source material for historical perspective, some of which flashes across the screen too quickly to soak up fully. He cribs from an audio diary by Nikita Khrushchev, whose shoe-banging diplomacy was stirring the pot of anti-colonial unrest throughout Africa at the time, potentially threatening the West's access to the nation's uranium mines. The Soviet leader comes off as a clever beta troll.

But most important, the filmmaker drenches the film in jazz music, as connective tissue and for mood and cadence for the narrative. Archival interviews feature Lincoln and Dizzie Gillespie, and there are too many legendary artist performances to mention, including by Roach, Armstrong, Nina Simone, Ornette Coleman and Charles Mingus. Grimonprez lets the songs breathe, and he turns repeatedly to Roach's jangling drum fills to ratchet up the tension.

I can understand if someone walked out after 20 minutes, frustrated by this obscure history lesson. But if you give in and adjust to the rhythms, you may be won over by Grimonprez's free-jazz masterstroke of storytelling.

BONUS TRACKS

One chilling passage features an excerpt from Louis Armstrong's racial howl, "Black and Blue":

There is Nina Simone covering Bob Dylan (which she would not do until 1966) and "The Ballad of Hollis Brown":

And my favorite from the soundtrack, Thelonious Monk with a spare rendering of "Just a Gigolo":