How is it this one slipped past everyone? Les Blank’s documentary film A Poem is a Naked Person, about bluegrass legend Leon Russell, was originally produced in 1974, but never actually saw a proper public release. For many years, Blank – a master documentarian who considers this film to be among his best – would only show the film at occasional festival screenings and at private events. Evidently, the usual headache of music licensing got in the way (along with some rigmarole about “creative differences”), and it wasn’t allowed to see the light of day until 2015. Now, thanks to The Criterion Collection, we are treated to a glittering, complete, fully-licensed version of the film on Blu-ray. And what a blessing. This is the kind of film that you didn’t know you needed.
Instantly recognizable as seminal (and likely to be compared to Don’t Look Back, Gimme Shelter, and Cocksucker Blues), A Poem is a Naked Person follows the homespun iconoclast Russell, his musical buddies, and the many other artists, hicks, salesmen, session players, groupies, and various weirdos from his small Oklahoma town. But unlike other documentarians (like, say, the masterful Errol Morris), the equally masterful Les Blank (Burden of Dreams, Garlic is as Good as Ten Mothers, Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe, Yum, Yum, Yum! A Taste of Cajun and Creole Cooking) does not affect an outsider’s eye. Blank seems to have a natural, in-born respect for the lives of these people, and sees not yokels or “simple” country folk, but a vibrant and living community of artists and music-makers.
Janus Films
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And some of those music-makers are among the best of their form. If you have any interest in bluegrass, gospel, Americana, country, or the rock of the 1970s, then you’ll find something to dig in A Poem is a Naked Person. It helps that Leon Russell was himself a member of the famed Wrecking Crew, the team that played backup for just about every famous band you know about. In one scene, a cocky pianist whips out a quick rendition of The Beatles’ “Lady Madonna,” confidently claiming that those talentless boys didn’t know how to play a piano at all. Additionally, the film features performances from the likes of Willie Nelson, Jim Franklin, and George Jones. We’re also treated to footage of a local church service where the congregation sings some of the most spirited gospel you’ve heard.
The adjective that springs to mind when discussing this type of music is “authentic,” although I hesitate to use the word myself as it whiffs ever so slightly of condescension. I will simply refer to it as great American music, and a fascinating aural backbone of what rock and roll was and has become.
Janus Films
But just as interesting as the music is the community that surrounds it. Russell and his crowd are a fun-loving lot who shoot the breeze about nothing-in-particular as if post-concert small talk was the homespun language of the school of Socrates. Each person we see is fascinating. The man who sells banjo picks. The man who clears empty swimming pools of scorpions before transforming them into epic, colorful murals. The professionals and the amateurs. The people who chase wild geese (literally) at local town festivals.
Leon Russell said in an interview about five years ago (for Billboard) that he hates the movie and didn’t want it released. That same year, critics banded together to get this incredibly important movie recognized by the public. Apologies to Russell, I’m glad the critics won out. This movie is striking, moving, and weirdly awesome.
Top Image: Janus Films
Witney Seibold is a contributor to the CraveOnline Film Channel, and the co-host of The B-Movies Podcast. He also contributes to Legion of Leia and to Blumhouse. You can follow him on “The Twitter” at @WitneySeibold, where he is slowly losing his mind.
