A version of this story about “Louis Armstrong’s Black & Blues” first appeared in the Guild & Critics Awards/Documentaries issue of awards magazine TheWrap.
Louis Armstrong was a titan of American music and one of the most popular artists of the 20th century, but his protean talent was sometimes overlooked by those who thought he had softened his gifts to please a mainstream audience. Sacha Jenkins encompasses all sides of the monumental artist in a film that makes use of a trove of audio recordings Armstrong left behind.
What was your initial exposure to Louis Armstrong?
I grew up in Queens. I knew there was a school named after him. He knew that he was a master on his instrument and that he could sing. But coming up in the ’80s and being a Public Enemy fan and coming into my consciousness as a young black man, Armstrong, based on what I was told about him, just didn’t fit my consciousness. He knew the punches, but I never spent the time learning who he was because the perception I had was that this guy wasn’t into it, as they would say. And when Imagine called me with the opportunity to make the film and I did the research, I was completely blown away by who Armstrong really was.
Who he was couldn’t have been more opposite to the perception I had of him or what I was told to believe about him. So it was a great opportunity to tell a story about someone who, if you know anything about him, you think one thing, but actually the truth is the complete opposite of that.
But it wasn’t just one thing, it was a monumental figure that had many sides. You could do a whole documentary series on him.
I’ve heard that before, but this is the moment we have. We really try to maximize the opportunity. You know how it is: you’ve written about music, you were a music journalist at one point, as I was, and one review from a critic was, “Oh, there’s not enough musicology there.” But I felt it was really important to tell the story of the man, because you can’t understand the music if you don’t understand the man. So my goal was to help people understand the man and give you enough information about the music to give you kind of a basic entry level into his music. But his music is so vast and influential that it would take multiple episodes to unravel that, and I couldn’t do it in one episode, one movie.
Did you know that you would have access to these often brutally frank tapes that he made, telling his own story?
Yeah, that was one of the most attractive things. He wanted people to know about him, so there is a vast archive of his personal effects and belongings. And when I knew that we would have access to Armstrong himself, to his voice, it doesn’t get any better than that. He is able to put so many things in context. Was he or was he not a sellout? He tells you directly in the movie, in his own voice. He’s having a very open and honest conversation with a friend, so he’s like, “Oh, because you smile in a particular way, you’re a sellout.” And he says, “Get out of here. I have never sold myself in my life.” When you hear Armstrong using such strong language and being a human being, it’s like, “Okay, sign me up.”
youThe movie includes people talking about him, but it’s almost always just audio, not video. Was that always the plan?
Yes. When you have Armstrong’s voice, what else do you need? It would be really jarring if you’re listening to Armstrong and then cut to a talking head. This focus keeps you in Armstrong’s head, in his process, in his life, and in his world.
The story told by Ossie Davis is an exception to that. He talks about feeling like Armstrong was always acting for white people, and then seeing him on a set when there was no one around him and seeing the pain, hurt, and anger on his face. It’s a fascinating story, and we watch him tell it.
Obviously, the way he… I don’t mean that he makes but the way it is expressed is very powerful. The information on Ossie Davis’s face when he talks about Armstrong says a lot. And that moment he crystallizes the film’s thesis and puts the nail in the coffin as far as the perception of who he was. I think Ossie really captures who he was, who he really was, the real Armstrong.
I mean, you’d think I somehow got that out of him, that I somehow got someone to say that. It’s almost like telling people that I think Armstrong is the co-director of his movie, because he left behind so many breadcrumbs and so many things that would make an amazing movie. He had the foresight to leave behind all of his belongings so that people can study and appreciate him. I wouldn’t be surprised if I knew that one day, based on everything he left behind, someone would make a movie like this. So I have to give him at least half the credit.
Read more from the Guild & Critics/Documentary Awards edition here.