Robert Manthoulis’s little-seen 1973 film is a curious combination of intimate music performances, documentary scenes of working-class poor, and scripted scenes about a broke and broken couple working through their relationship woes. While the music and documentary scenes merge well, the scripted moments feel disingenuous and tacked-on, interrupting the flow of the otherwise intriguing production.
Buy The Blues Under the Skin Blu-rayThe principal calling card is the performance footage of blues greats, most significantly Buddy Guy and B.B. King. Manthoulis captures candid footage of their performances in small venues, offering a thrilling look at their unrivaled skills in their prime. He also peppers the film with even more intimate performances by lesser-known musicians, often performing to nobody but the camera, crafting a timeless snapshot of the state of Delta blues in the early 1970s. Even though it’s about the blues, he doesn’t seem interested in making a music documentary, with the pro performances serving more as the cherry on top than the actual meal.
There’s no narration and scant interview footage, so no concrete clue to what he’s trying to accomplish overall, but his documentary footage of poor folk in the deep South is the most soul-searing aspect of the film. He tags along with a chain gang to open the film, as they use call-and-response blues to help lighten the drudgery of their thankless labor. He finds a guy just picking out a tune on his guitar in a dilapidated shack, just another day in his hopeless life. He captures a small church service using the blues to inspire the downtrodden congregation. These scenes and more offer a genuine representation of the origin of the blues, as well as a diatribe against a country with so much bounty that fails to lift up its most vulnerable citizens.
The scripted scenes follow a young man and woman as they argue, decouple, and attempt to find their way back to each other, all colored through the lens of a dreary, low-class living situation with an elderly parent and limited career prospects. The actors are passable, but the content just feels like contrived fluff that should make way for more of the truth of the documentary scenes and music performances.
The new Blu-ray includes an interview with Manthoulis, deleted scenes featuring performances by two musicians not featured in the final cut, as well as the original and re-release trailers. Colors are much more vibrant than expected, while the mono sound is clean and competent.
