We see Jones’ stage fright poignantly il­lus­trated by her hand shak­ing un­con­trol­lably as she grips a pa­per cup. But only sec­onds later, she walks on­stage and trans­forms into the su­per­heroine her fans know best, vis­i­bly soak­ing up the ap­plause, the cheers,

Pasatiempo - - TERRELL’S TUNE-UP - Miss Sharon Jones!

After view­ing the first time, my ini­tial crit­i­cism was that Kop­ple spends too much time in Jones’ chemo clin­ics and not enough time at concert halls. My knee-jerk re­ac­tion as a fan of her mu­sic was that I’d much rather watch two hours of Jones and her band do­ing what they do best, prov­ing that good old-fash­ioned funk and soul never die, no mat­ter what the mu­si­cal in­dus­trial com­plex is try­ing to sell you at the mo­ment.

But watch­ing the doc­u­men­tary a sec­ond time soft­ened that re­ac­tion some­what. While I’d still like to have more mu­sic in the film, I re­al­ized that see­ing

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