The subject is gospel music as performed by church choirs and special vocalists. Performance sequences are interspersed with interview testimony, focusing on two talented old-timers that helped originate the gospel movement back in the 1930s. Gospel singer Willie Mae Ford Smith holds a microphone in one hand, using the other hand to steady her walker. She's called 'Mother' by younger singers. Their boisterous performances look like big productions, but in grassroots gospel the choirs sing not for money but for the glory of God -- in church, at home, everywhere. One singer describes the feeling: "I forget I'm in the world. Sometimes I just want to head off."
Eagerly telling his story for the interview microphone is Thomas A. Dorsey, who not only is a founding father of gospel, but wrote much of the classic gospel songbook as well. The spirited and opinionated Dorsey began his career as a pianist for the legendary blues singer Ma Rainey. The film's title comes from one of the old man's remarks to the quiet documentary crew. Accustomed to hearing a call-response pattern, when he finishes a speech, he addresses the cameramen out of frame: "Say Amen, Somebody."
Other gospel documentaries had been filmed but Nierenberg's is more than just a record of performances. Variety called it a "superb documentary feature" and "a model of emotional communications." We see no extended scrapbook of vintage photographs and little archive film, although some footage of Mahalia Jackson is memorable. The show focuses on gospel choirs as much as the 'headliner' name singers: The O'Neal Twins, Zella Jackson Price, and the Barrett Sisters share attention with the Interfaith Choir and Gospel Unlimited. In a scene filmed at a gospel festival, a DJ in a booth promotes the names of singers as if announcing the lineup for a rock concert.
Smith and Dorsey discuss the need to reach a younger audience and argue about the old days of the Great Depression, when churches strongly resisted singing during services. Congregations of the 1930s and '40s thought gospel was too raucous, not pious enough. Ministers didn't want 'sinful' blues singers to infiltrate their churches. It took time for the passion and joyful frenzy of gospel singing to be accepted as spiritual. 'Mother' Smith quotes one minister who had vile words: "We don't want that coon-shine stuff in here."
The show follows the business end of gospel as well. Ms. Smith is quick to tell us that the music doesn't drop from heaven but must be promoted. One singing duo asks how gospel can thrive in a society based on hit-making. The songs aren't all purity from the pulpit, either -- one O'Neal tune is called "Jesus Dropped the Charges". Younger gospel singers must be committed to their careers and need special support from home. When we see singer Delois Barrett Campbell serving breakfast to her husband, the documentary makes a clear statement about gender equality. She wants to continue with her singing, and he's asking when she's going to stop performing and help him more.
Director Nierenberg used multiple 16mm cameras for many scenes, especially during performances. The enhanced camera coverage enables editor Paul Barnes to cut to actual audience responses, not random cutaways. When the cutting mirrors the excitement of the gospel performance, the spirited music becomes contagious. The editing also underlines the authority and power of the charming Willie Mae Ford Smith. One cut jumps from Smith reciting a song lyric in conversation, directly to her belting out the same song in a full performance. The ever-colorful Smith is quite a personality: "I may have cracks in my voice as wide as the banks of the Mississippi, but the old Mississippi River keeps on flowing."
The level of performance excitement in Say Amen, Somebody has been compared to Martin Scorsese's The Last Waltz (1978). Yet director George T. Nierenberg's methods have attracted some criticism. Nierenberg admitted to The Christian Science Monitor that moments of dialogue interaction only appear to be candid: he directed his scenes to look "as if it happened spontaneously, on the fly." The point of contention is that a white film director is once again interpreting a black experience, shaping the world of gospel for his film audience. Historically speaking, the notion of claiming objective reality in documentary film didn't begin until the 1960s. The moment a director chooses what to show or when to make an edit, he's both shaping and interpreting his subject matter.
Say Amen, Somebody enjoyed a successful theatrical revival in 2019, through Milestone Films.
By Glenn Erickson
