I can't help contrasting this documentary with the brilliant book written by Peter Guralnik - "Dream Boogie: The Triumph of Sam Cooke". For the first forty five minutes or so, the film deftly handles the inspirational rise of Sam Cooke from his early days with The Soul Stirrers, his agonizing decision to venture into the world of pop music, and the accolades accorded him as he eventually rose to the top of the music charts along side Elvis Presley. We hear from contemporaries who knew and loved Cooke, including figures like Smokey Robinson, Dionne Warwick, Quincy Jones, Lloyd Price, Billy Davis and pro football great Jim Brown. They all acknowledge Sam's contribution to pop music while advocating for civil rights during an era that was still predominantly racist in certain parts of the country. His association with such disparate personalities as Cassius Clay (later Muhammad Ali), Malcolm X, and Jim Brown helped pave the way for tolerance among the races, while forging an immensely popular body of work that appealed to both black and white audiences.
Where the documentary goes off the rails for me is in it's conspiratorial tone regarding the death, some would say murder, of Sam Cooke. In that regard, the extremely well researched Guralnik book delves into Cooke's death with a dispassionate approach that explores both sides. Yes, Sam had his enemies in the music and political world, and the figure of Allen Klein taking advantage of Cooke offers an intriguing hook into what might be considered a motive for murder. However the events on the night of December 11th, 1964 would have required an impossible confluence of coincidences to occur for his killing to have been planned and staged. For one, Cooke had picked up a woman named Elisa Boyer, unknown to him to be a prostitute, and took her to the seedy Hacienda Hotel in Los Angeles. When Boyer fled his hotel room with his clothes, the naked Cooke wearing only a sport jacket and one shoe, ran to the manager's office and demanded to know her whereabouts. Following an argumentative confrontation with Cooke, hotel clerk Bertha Franklin shot him with a gun kept in the office. Just prior to the shooting, Ms. Franklin was on the phone with the hotel's manager, Evelyn Carr, who heard the intrusion and the following gunshot on the phone. Both Franklin and Carr passed a polygraph test on their version of events.
It's only natural that Sam Cooke's wife and family would question the police investigation of the murder, refusing to acknowledge his aberrant behavior on the night he was killed. Yet to this day, no concrete evidence has ever been presented to support a criminal conspiracy. I don't fault Cooke's contemporaries for questioning the circumstances of his death, but it appears to come from a sense of loyalty than to an acceptance of the facts. And if I'm wrong, I'd be glad to admit it in the face of new evidence. With all that mentioned, I'll go on record as a big fan of Sam Cooke the singer, who paved the way for many of the pop, blues, and soul musicians popular today. He died much too early, and it's not inconceivable that if he were still alive, he'd be considered a grand patriarch of the present music scene.
Where the documentary goes off the rails for me is in it's conspiratorial tone regarding the death, some would say murder, of Sam Cooke. In that regard, the extremely well researched Guralnik book delves into Cooke's death with a dispassionate approach that explores both sides. Yes, Sam had his enemies in the music and political world, and the figure of Allen Klein taking advantage of Cooke offers an intriguing hook into what might be considered a motive for murder. However the events on the night of December 11th, 1964 would have required an impossible confluence of coincidences to occur for his killing to have been planned and staged. For one, Cooke had picked up a woman named Elisa Boyer, unknown to him to be a prostitute, and took her to the seedy Hacienda Hotel in Los Angeles. When Boyer fled his hotel room with his clothes, the naked Cooke wearing only a sport jacket and one shoe, ran to the manager's office and demanded to know her whereabouts. Following an argumentative confrontation with Cooke, hotel clerk Bertha Franklin shot him with a gun kept in the office. Just prior to the shooting, Ms. Franklin was on the phone with the hotel's manager, Evelyn Carr, who heard the intrusion and the following gunshot on the phone. Both Franklin and Carr passed a polygraph test on their version of events.
It's only natural that Sam Cooke's wife and family would question the police investigation of the murder, refusing to acknowledge his aberrant behavior on the night he was killed. Yet to this day, no concrete evidence has ever been presented to support a criminal conspiracy. I don't fault Cooke's contemporaries for questioning the circumstances of his death, but it appears to come from a sense of loyalty than to an acceptance of the facts. And if I'm wrong, I'd be glad to admit it in the face of new evidence. With all that mentioned, I'll go on record as a big fan of Sam Cooke the singer, who paved the way for many of the pop, blues, and soul musicians popular today. He died much too early, and it's not inconceivable that if he were still alive, he'd be considered a grand patriarch of the present music scene.
