Little-known folksinger’s doc a sweet surprise
Searching for Sugar Man ★★★★
A documentary by Malik Bendjelloul Running time: 86 minutes Parental advisory: PG, coarse language Playing at: Princess
It sounds pat, but in this particular case, it happens to be completely true: Waiting for Sugar Man is a classic “crowdpleaser.”
A documentary with all the passion, suspense and heartwrenching drama of a topnotch narrative feature, Malik Bendjelloul’s story of a littleknown folksinger from the late ’60s not only won over audiences at Sundance this year, it made people dizzy with its ability to genuinely surprise.
So rarely does one go to the movies and feel so much, in such a short period of time, but that’s the beauty of the experience when it’s compelled by true love: You feel it in every crevice of your body and soul in a moment of simultaneous wonder. Gush. Gush. I could go on, but heaven forbid too much hyperbole lead to disappointment, so let’s begin with the extremely strange story that opens in South Africa.
The voice of record store owner Stephen “Sugar” Segerman tells us about one of his favourite musical acts of all time: Rodriguez.
Practically anonymous in the United States, where he began his recording career in the same breath as Dylan, Joni and Leonard, Rodriguez turns out to be a rather big star around Cape Town and Joburg.
As legend has it, some American woman brought a Rodriguez record with her on a visit to her South African boyfriend around 1970. The tuneful music with rebellious lyrics found its way onto the airwaves, where it just managed to skirt the censorship rules imposed by the Apartheid government. A handful of songs became huge hits, outselling the Rolling Stones and even Dylan, but no one really knew what happened to the reclusive songwriter, and in the opening voice-over, Segerman offers up one of the accepted versions of history: Rodriguez self-immolated on stage.
After trying to ply his trade on the tough streets of Detroit, and making it into the studio with some noted producers, Rodriguez emerges as the very embodiment of the American dream gone awry.
He was good-looking, talented and charismatic. He was also a tireless worker. But fame was never what Rodriguez wanted. The man simply wanted to share his music, and his ideas, with others.
There is no doubt much of what we see, hear and experience feels like hagiography. Yet, because we’re getting the story from Segerman — and another hardcore fan and music writer named Craig BartholomewStrydom — we can’t help but feel the surge of love that only a true acolyte can conjure.
As a result, when they tell us Rodriguez is party responsible for ending apartheid, we have to take it on faith. And then we have to turn to director Bendjelloul as the observer and chronicler to back up this rather lofty claim through research, interviews and some rather surprising sleuth work.
For North American viewers, just about everything in this movie will feel fresh, partly because we’ve never heard of Rodriguez before, but largely because we still know so little about the depth of South Africa’s racist past.
In one memorable sequence, we’re shown archival footage of censors pulling a pin across the grooves of objectionable content, ensuring folk songs about love, peace, equality and sex would never incite the masses into action. Bendjelloul’s film appears to be documenting the story of Rodriguez but the Swedish director actually captures giant swaths of 20th century history.
More than anything, he gives us a roller-coaster ride with a true hero at the centre and great songs on the soundtrack. So if you’re looking for the feel-good experience of the summer, check out the one true superhero on screen — and seek our Searching for Sugar Man.