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    13 (Great) Songs With Parenthetical Titles

    How Radiohead, Whitney Houston, Meat Loaf and others made a point with punctuation.Radiohead’s Thom Yorke: (Nice pic.)Mario Ruiz/EPA, via ShutterstockDear listeners,Today’s playlist is devoted to one of my absolute favorite musical conventions: the parenthetical song title.Why use parenthesis when naming a song? There are so many reasons. Sometimes it’s a rather brazen way to remind a listener of the song’s hook, in case the title itself was too obscure: “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It),” “Doo Wop (That Thing),” “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles).”But sometimes (and these are my favorite times) the motives are a bit more inscrutable. Does “Dude (Looks Like a Lady)” really need that parenthesis? Would we not know what the Quad City DJs are singing about without the clarification “C’Mon ’N Ride It (The Train)”? Are the Kinks making fun of this whole convention with “(A) Face in the Crowd”?Plus, when we’re saying these song titles aloud, are we supposed to pause between title and subtitle, or just say the whole thing like a run-on sentence? Will you know which song I’m talking about when I say “Movin’ Out” or must I specify, “(Anthony’s Song)”? The mind boggles.This playlist is here to help you through all that confusion, and to celebrate some of the best and most inventive uses of the parenthetical song title. It features some of the obvious ones, from the likes of Otis Redding, Aretha Franklin and Talking Heads, alongside a few of my lesser-known personal favorites from Charli XCX, Sonic Youth and more. I hope it provides at least one opportunity for you to (shake, shake, shake) shake your booty.Listen along on Spotify as you read.1. Whitney Houston: “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)”In the chorus of one of the most jubilant pop songs ever, Whitney Houston qualifies her initial demand — hey, I didn’t mean just anybody — and lays her heart on the line. Good on her for having high standards on the dance floor. (Listen on YouTube)2. R.E.M.: “It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”Michael Stipe learns to stop worrying and love (or at least feel fine about) the bomb in this cheerily apocalyptic hit from R.E.M.’s 1987 album “Document.” There are already so many words in this song, the parentheses seem to shrug, what’s a few more in the title? (Listen on YouTube)3. My Chemical Romance: “I’m Not OK (I Promise)”Gerard Way is (really, really, really) not OK in this 2004 emo-pop anthem, which asks listeners to imagine a sonic alternate universe in which Freddie Mercury fronted the Misfits. Though the parenthetical promise doesn’t appear in the song’s lyrics, it appropriately kicks up the overall feeling of excess and garrulous melodrama. (Listen on YouTube)4. Charli XCX: “You (Ha Ha Ha)”This title is poetry to me. From “True Romance,” the 2013 album by one of my favorite “middle class” pop stars, “You (Ha Ha Ha)” is a beautifully scathing kiss-off — as if the very mention of this person’s existence were an inside joke not even worth explaining. Savage. (Listen on YouTube)5. Bob Dylan: “I Don’t Believe You (She Acts Like We Have Never Met)”When it comes to parenthetical titles — as with just about every other element of songwriting — Bob Dylan is an expert. “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” is an all-timer; “One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)” is a classic; “Do Right to Me Baby (Do Unto Others)” is a clever co-mingling of the sacred and profane. But this one, from his 1964 album “Another Side of Bob Dylan,” is probably my favorite. I love the way the title switches from second to third person inside the parenthesis, as if he’s turning to the audience in the middle of a conversation and mouthing, “Can you believe her?!” It mimics a similar perspective shift in the song itself, when, in the penultimate verse, Dylan goes from singing about this woman to suddenly singing to her: “If you want me to, I can be just like you,” he sings, “and pretend that we never have touched.” (Listen on YouTube)6. Otis Redding: “(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay”Recorded days before his untimely death, the parenthetical prefix of Otis Redding’s enduring swan song not only specifies what he’s doing on the dock of the bay, but it gives that titular setting a human character — eyes through which this languid bayside scene is witnessed. (Listen on YouTube)7. Talking Heads: “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)”When the members of the recently (sort of?) reconciled Talking Heads recorded the instrumental tracks for their 1983 album “Speaking in Tongues,” they gave the demos unofficial titles. But even after David Byrne wrote lyrics to what would become the luminous “This Must Be the Place,” they wanted to honor the track’s original nickname, which expressed both its compositional simplicity and its childlike innocence. (Listen on YouTube)8. Janet Jackson: “Love Will Never Do (Without You)”I’m a big fan of parenthetical song titles that complete an internal rhyme — see also: Sylvester’s “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)” — and an even bigger fan of this ecstatic tune from Ms. Jackson’s 1989 opus “Rhythm Nation 1814.” That key change gets me every time! (Listen on YouTube)9. Radiohead: “(Nice Dream)”The members of Radiohead are such fans of parentheses that every single track on their 2003 album “Hail to the Thief” has a subtitle — which is honestly a bit much to keep track of. I prefer this early song from “The Bends,” which has its title entirely encased in parentheses, adding to the song’s liminal, somnambulant feel. (Listen on YouTube)10. Sonic Youth: “Brave Men Run (in My Family)”Off “Bad Moon Rising,” a strange and eerie early Sonic Youth album of which I am quite partial, this ferocious squall of a song finds Kim Gordon meditating on masculinity, turning it inside out with her sly wordplay, and bellowing each lyric with a warrior’s intensity. (Listen on YouTube)11. The Rolling Stones: “It’s Only Rock’n’Roll (But I Like It)”Perhaps the spiritual inverse of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ later “Fooled Again (I Don’t Like It)”, this 1974 hit contains a truly shocking admission: The Rolling Stones … like rock ’n’ roll? I have to say, I didn’t see that one coming! (Listen on YouTube)12. Aretha Franklin: “(You Make Me Feel Like) a Natural Woman”Oh, I could have written an entire women’s studies paper on this one in college. The proper title “A Natural Woman” proposes that there’s such a thing as authentic and essential femininity, but the parenthetical totally upends that notion — the singer doesn’t need to be a natural woman to feel like one. No wonder it’s a drag classic! (Listen on YouTube)13. Meat Loaf: “I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)”It’s the Alpha (and Omega) of parenthetical song titles. Thesis and antithesis. It prompts certainly the most profound mystery in all of rock opera, and perhaps in pop music writ large: What. Is. That? Meat Loaf claimed that the answer was hidden in the song itself, and in a 1998 episode of “VH1 Storytellers,” he pulled out a chalkboard and gave a grammar lesson proposing as much. (But I choose to believe the mystery … or maybe the explanation his character gave in “Spice World.”) (Listen on YouTube)Feelin’ pretty psyched,LindsayThe Amplifier PlaylistListen on Spotify. We update this playlist with each new newsletter.“13 (Great) Songs With Parenthetical Titles” track listTrack 1: Whitney Houston, “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)”Track 2: R.E.M., “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”Track 3: My Chemical Romance, “I’m Not OK (I Promise)”Track 4: Charli XCX, “You (Ha Ha Ha)”Track 5: Bob Dylan, “I Don’t Believe You (She Acts Like We Have Never Met)”Track 6: Otis Redding, “(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay”Track 7: Talking Heads, “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)”Track 8: Janet Jackson, “Love Will Never Do (Without You)”Track 9: Radiohead, “(Nice Dream)”Track 10: Sonic Youth, “Brave Men Run (in My Family)”Track 11: The Rolling Stones, “It’s Only Rock’n’Roll (But I Like It)”Track 12: Aretha Franklin, “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman”Track 13: Meat Loaf, “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That)”Bonus tracksOn Saturday night — one of the loveliest and most temperate New York evenings all summer — I witnessed something utterly enchanting in Prospect Park, as a part of the BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn! summer concert series: a free show headlined by the one and only John Cale. (Earlier this year, you may recall, I devoted an entire newsletter to Cale’s vast discography.) I’ve been trying ever since to recapture the magic of that night by listening to some of the songs he played: The serene “Hanky Panky Nohow,” the rollicking “Barracuda,” and, most haunting of all, his slow, mournful deconstruction of “Heartbreak Hotel.” More

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    Is Aretha Franklin’s True Will the One Found in the Couch or a Cabinet?

    A trial starting on Monday is to decide whether either of two handwritten documents represents the singer’s last wishes. Her sons have battled in court for years over the question.At first, Aretha Franklin’s family believed the division of her estate after her death in 2018 would be a straightforward task: Without a known will, the celebrated singer’s assets would be equally distributed among her four sons.But months after Franklin’s funeral, a family member found documents, scrawled by hand and outlining her wishes — one set under a couch cushion in her home in suburban Detroit, another in a locked cabinet — plunging the estate into uncertainty.In the four years since, Franklin’s sons have battled in a Michigan probate court over which of the conflicting documents should take precedence. On Monday, the issue heads to trial, with the precise distribution of Franklin’s remaining fortune, property and music rights at stake.“I think they all wish this had been settled a week after she passed away,” said Craig A. Smith, a lawyer for Edward Franklin, the singer’s second eldest son. “But they’re not blaming anyone — it is what it is.”At issue in the trial is which document best reflects Franklin’s wishes before she died, at age 76, of pancreatic cancer.Two of her sons, Edward and Kecalf Franklin, assert that the document found in a spiral notebook under the couch cushions, which is dated March 2014 and substantially favors Kecalf, should be considered primary. Another son, Ted White Jr., contends that the papers found in the cabinet, dated June 2010, should take precedence.The jury could also decide that neither document is a legitimate will, reverting back to an even division of the singer’s estate between her children, based on Michigan law. There is also a possible combined solution in which items from both documents would be taken into account.Franklin’s eldest son, Clarence Franklin, who has a mental illness and is under a legal guardianship, has long been a player in the legal jockeying, as the 2014 will would appear to cause him to inherit significantly less than his brothers. But in recent weeks, his representatives reached a settlement for an undisclosed percentage of the estate. As a result, they will not be taking a side in the trial, said Joseph Buttiglieri, a lawyer for Clarence Franklin’s guardian.A pathbreaking musician acclaimed as the Queen of Soul, Franklin won 18 Grammy Awards, had more than 100 singles on the Billboard charts, and left behind the trappings of a star: four homes, several cars, furs, jewelry and gold records. The total estate was estimated at about $18 million after she died, Mr. Smith said, though another appraisal suggested the figure might be lower.But Franklin, who was known to be intensely private about her finances, also left a significant tax liability. In 2021, her estate reached a deal with the Internal Revenue Service to pay off about $8 million in federal income taxes by setting aside a portion of any new revenue from music royalties or projects like the recent Hollywood biopic starring Jennifer Hudson.At the heart of the trial are more than a dozen pages of Franklin’s scrawled-out wishes, filled with crossed out words and insertions. The process of interpreting a deceased person’s intentions from the lines of a handwritten document can be a confusing, contentious process, one that made for a gripping story line in the HBO series “Succession.” In the show’s final season, the family patriarch’s heirs struggled to decode penciled-in addendums to his last wishes that were found locked in a safe.The effort to determine Franklin’s true desires has turned up three voice mail messages, recorded months before the singer died, in which she discussed another will that she had been preparing with an estate lawyer, Henry Grix.In the messages, which were played in court earlier this year, Franklin said she had already decided some details around her estate, including that she wanted her pianos to be auctioned off at Sotheby’s, but she noted that she was leaving other decisions for a future meeting at the lawyer’s office.Franklin’s estate after her death had an estimated value of $18 million, according to a lawyer for one of her sons.Pool photo by Paul SancyaTed White Jr., whose father had been Franklin’s manager and first husband, asked that the court favor documents that had been drafted by Mr. Grix, an experienced estate planning lawyer, in the final three years of the singer’s life, arguing that it was the most recent expression of her wishes. But the judge overseeing the case, Jennifer S. Callaghan, excluded the documents from consideration in the trial, citing testimony from Mr. Grix maintaining that he had been left with the impression that Franklin “hadn’t made up her mind” about the will.“It is clear to this court,” Judge Callaghan wrote in a May decision, “that the attorney who was retained to personally memorialize the Decedent’s estate plan did not believe that the Decedent had yet reached a final, complete plan.”That leaves two documents for the six-person jury to consider.In the 2014 document, three of Franklin’s sons — excluding Clarence — would receive equal shares of their mother’s music royalties, but the distribution of her personal property would be weighted toward Kecalf. According to the document, Kecalf would receive two of four homes and the singer’s cars, the number of which is not specified.In court papers, a lawyer for Kecalf Franklin argued that the 2014 document should be considered a legal will because it is the most recent handwritten document by Franklin outlining her plans. (There is a dispute over whether the singer officially signed the document. One side says a smiley face paired with “Franklin” represents her signature on the final page of the document; the other has disagreed.)The singer’s heirs have disputed whether the smiley face next to “Franklin,” included on one of two conflicting documents, constitutes a legitimate signature.Oakland County Probate CourtMr. Smith said that although his client, Edward Franklin, would benefit more financially if the wills were deemed invalid, his client supports the 2014 document because he believes “that’s what Aretha wanted.”In steadfast opposition to the 2014 will is Mr. White, whose lawyer, Kurt A. Olson, wrote in court papers: “If this document were intended to be a will there would have been more care than putting it in a spiral notebook under a couch cushion.”As evidence in support of the 2010 document, which specifies weekly and monthly allowances for the four sons, Mr. Olson pointed to the fact that it was notarized and that Franklin had signed each page.Mr. White has yet to sign off on the settlement reached around Clarence Franklin’s piece of the estate, and it will ultimately be subject to the judge’s approval.Witnesses in the trial, which is expected to last less than a week in Oakland County Probate Court in Pontiac, Mich., are likely to include some of Franklin’s sons; the person who notarized the 2010 estate document; a handwriting expert; and a niece of the singer’s, Sabrina Owens, who discovered the potential wills in 2019. Ms. Owens had initially served as Franklin’s personal representative — similar to the role of executor — until strife within the family prompted her resignation.Nicholas E. Papasifakis, a Michigan estate lawyer, currently serves as Franklin’s personal representative and is not taking a side in the dispute between the heirs.After the trial has concluded and the estate has been settled, there will still be issues that will require cooperation within the fractured family. Biopics or tribute concerts would require universal agreement, unless the heirs were to appoint a business manager to manage such decisions, said Mr. Smith, the lawyer representing Edward Franklin.“We’re hoping that everyone gets along a little better after this has been resolved,” he said. More

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    Watching My Mother Watch Music

    Our pop music critic remembers going to concerts with his mom, who died last year.Getting gifts for my mother was never easy — she was particular, as am I, and not always in overlapping ways. But when I saw that Tina Turner was going to be performing around her birthday in 2008, I bought tickets as soon as they were available.Growing up, there was a lightly worn hardback of “I, Tina” above the refrigerator. My mom spoke about “Tiiina” like an old friend, someone she used to get in trouble with. If you were alive and watching television in the mid-1980s, the image of Turner ecstatically stomping across the screen, hair pointing to the moon, was indelible. Here was a woman in charge of her destiny.Because I got them quickly, our seats were in the center of the second or third row. There’s a thing that happens at a concert, especially in an arena, when you are seated right up front. The speakers are generally booming sound to the middle and back of the room, but up close, you can actually hear what’s happening onstage, and also what’s going on right around you. Which is why for most of that night’s show, I couldn’t really hear the roar of the crowd, but I could hear my mom yelling encouragement, loudly, at Turner.It was a pointillist way to experience a show — an almost literal call and response. My mom was in no way chill. Turner vamped, my mom hooted. Turner sang of brittle love, my mom pumped her fist in assent. I can’t quite tell you how the concert was, because for those two hours, I felt like I was eavesdropping on private communiqués.More than anyone, my mother — who died late last year — gave me music. She gave me the idea that there was freedom, or identity, to be found within. My mother was raised in an ungenerous home, and from her youngest years was looking for any safe space available to her. That often meant music, which would become a constant in my young life: WBLS or Z100 in the car, Whitney Houston or Andreas Vollenweider or the Bee Gees in the house.At the time of the Turner concert, I’d been writing about music for more than a decade, and had been reviewing shows regularly for The Times for a few months. Those nights out were alternately riveting and glum, and always experienced at a little remove. I had become a professional observer.Which, in fairness, I always had been, dating back to the first proper concert I attended: Ryuichi Sakamoto at the Beacon Theater. This was in 1988, not long before my parents separated. My mother had me very young, and for the majority of my childhood until that point, had mostly been a stay-at home parent. But she had recently begun working, and finding success, in Manhattan. Our lives were changing, subtly for the moment.I don’t remember much about that night apart from the need to dress up — it was a long way from Sheepshead Bay in outer Brooklyn to the Upper West Side. The Beacon Theater crowd was disciplined. It was the most reserved I ever witnessed my mother at a concert.But the chic cosmopolitanism of the performance reflected a future she was envisioning and willing herself toward. She was also manifesting a range of imagination for me far vaster than the one she’d been afforded as a child. After the show, my mom, grandmother, great-grandmother and I all waited by the stage door exit to grab a glimpse of Sakamoto as he left — for months, years even, my mom insisted he reached through the crowd, looked me in my eyes and shook my hand.She had a way with narrative — she was the main character long before main-character energy was a thing. And she wanted that for me even if I was always a little naturally reticent. A studied and practiced mama’s boy, I learned to navigate the world by bending myself around her shape, a fearless mother’s careful son.Tina Turner, as photographed on the writer’s BlackBerry in 2008.Jon CaramanicaRyuichi Sakamoto onstage at the Beacon Theater in 1988.Bell Biv DeVoe on the 1991 Club MTV Tour.Raymond Boyd/Getty ImagesAretha Franklin, captured on the writer’s old iPhone in 2017.Jon CaramanicaEveryone was playing their part when, a couple of years after the Sakamoto show, I cajoled her into taking me to see the Club MTV Tour at the Jones Beach amphitheater. The lineup, frankly, was jacked: Bell Biv DeVoe, C+C Music Factory, Gerardo. The highest of NRG.I was still learning how to navigate those spaces, trying to figure out just how loudly I could declare my enthusiasms in public. So even though I knew every word of every song of every performer, I mostly sat still.My mom, though, was just as exuberant then as at the Turner show. Like any sullen teenager, I was embarrassed — but I also was learning firsthand it was safe to be yourself, even while Bell Biv DeVoe was calisthenically attacking the stage during “Do Me!”She was giving me a blueprint to feel free, though even now, I experience exuberance at concerts far more intensely on the inside than the outside. Maybe that’s part of my origin story as a critic — watching the show, and watching my mother watch the show, and watching others watch my mother watch the show. It’s all part of the experience.BY THE TIME of the Turner show, my mom had been living with lung cancer for about three years. She’d been diagnosed, miraculously, on a scan following a car accident. The years that followed were harrowing and unpredictable.Nothing will strip your varnish quite like watching someone you love wither. It made me tentative, as if any wrong move on my part might put her in peril. When, in 2017, she told me she wanted to see Aretha Franklin perform, all I could think about were the liabilities — What if the show ran late? What if my mom started to feel weak during the performance? What if Franklin seemed … ill? Would it be too much to bear?Over the years, as a critic, I’ve had to watch many late-career concerts from onetime titans — it can be grim. That was part of my hesitation, too, that the effort that I knew my mother would put into going to the show would somehow not be repaid. I wanted to protect her, and myself too.As anyone who’s seen Franklin perform knows, though, I truly needn’t have worried. She was a little frail, but vigorous and stubborn, perhaps powered by the determination of someone who was not in flawless health. (Franklin died the following year; this ended up being one of her last shows.)There were so many stretches of time during my mother’s illness when I felt I had nothing to give, that nothing I did would be useful. Faced with the scale and nimbleness of a wily cancer, you can’t help but feel insufficient.This, however, I’d gotten right. As at all the other shows, I watched my mother watch the stage. All night long, she radiated hope. Franklin was in declining health, but my mother saw none of that. Or maybe she saw it, but just not how I saw it. For her, Franklin was indomitable. A beacon of resilience.The days just after the show were difficult — for me. I felt awful that I couldn’t give her that sensation every day. My mother, on the other hand, talked about it for weeks. About how Franklin was bossing the band around. About how she brought her purse out onstage and someone ran after her with it when the show was done. About her fur coat. In every telling, Franklin was very much alive, and so was she. More

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    Aretha Franklin and the Futility of Trying to Portray Her Onscreen

    The new film “Respect” is one of three recent attempts to understand the artist. Only the one that focuses solely on her music comes close.Early on in “Respect,” the latest onscreen retelling of Aretha Franklin’s story, the aging jazz and R&B star Dinah Washington asks her protégée, “Child, are you ever going to tell us who the daddy is?”Otherwise timid or thankful, Franklin (Jennifer Hudson) responds to Washington’s probing about the paternity of her sons, the first born when she was only 12, with a mix of incredulity and imposing silence. Suddenly what starts off as one of the film’s main mysteries and perhaps Franklin’s biggest childhood trauma ends up as a throwaway line, never to be revisited again.Instead, “Respect,” the debut film by the renowned theater director Liesl Tommy, ends up heeding the advice Washington gives Franklin about her music: “Honey, find the songs that move you.” The biopic is less a movie about Franklin’s interior life or the origins of what her character insists are the “demons” that haunt her, and more about how she as a prodigious vocalist and brilliant pianist and songwriter channeled her pain into songs that moved not just her, but the entire world. In the end, those gaps in the plot are distracting and keep Franklin at arm’s length, rendering her as elusive on the screen as she was in public in real life.A musical moment from “Respect,” with, from left, Henry Riggs, Jennifer Hudson, Hailey Kilgore, Saycon Sengbloh, Alec Barnes, John Giorgio, Marc Maron and Joe Knezevich.Quantrell D. Colbert/MGM“Respect” is part of a larger trend of films and TV series — including the National Geographic mini-series “Genius: Aretha,” starring Cynthia Erivo, and the Sydney Pollack documentary “Amazing Grace” (filmed in 1972 but released in 2018) — that all try to capture Franklin’s virtuosity. In their own way and to varying degrees of success, each struggles with how best to showcase her as a singular artist while expanding our understanding of a woman so intent on privacy.The upside of “Respect” is that it truly focuses on the intricacies of her music-making. The most riveting scenes are when we see her really play: in a recording studio turned jam session with the all-white Muscle Shoals band in Alabama, turning a sleepy “I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You)” into a sultry, soulful confession. Or when she wakes up her sisters, Erma (Saycon Sengbloh) and Carolyn (Hailey Kilgore) in the middle of the night to rearrange the Otis Redding classic “Respect,” with her siblings adding the famous “Re-re-re” riff and forever transforming the song into a Black woman’s anthem.Given how electrifying those moments were, I found myself wanting more and more music, a feat achieved by Hudson’s own riveting take on Franklin’s classics as well as my memory of hearing Franklin’s powerhouse voice for the first time. In this sense, “Respect” gives us the biopic I always thought I was looking for — a portrait of a Black woman whose musical genius remains front and center without being sidelined or overshadowed by her personal struggle with trauma. Though the movie does show Aretha battling depression or her husband, Ted White, such agony never overtakes the story or our sense of her musicality the way it does in other biopics about iconic Black women performers, like Billie Holiday or Tina Turner. Instead, “Respect” treats trauma as a string of unresolved secrets, the source of which neither the film nor Franklin herself ever felt compelled to share with her audience.Hudson with Forest Whitaker as Franklin’s father in “Respect.”Quantrell D. Colbert/MGMThe result is a movie that skews too closely to Franklin’s own self-image, a narrative that she tightly controlled during her lifetime as a matter of privacy and as a way to assert her own power in an industry, and country, dominated by sexist and racist stereotypes about Black women’s sexuality and intelligence.The biographer David Ritz wrote of this distance in “Respect,” his second book on Franklin, saying, “In spite of my determination to be a compassionate listener, someone whose gentle persistence would allow her to reveal all her sacred secrets, my technique ultimately did not work. In the end, I didn’t make a dent in her armor.”Further reflecting on his first biography, “Aretha: From These Roots,” which he wrote based on interviews with Franklin, and which thus had her blessing, he said, “She got the book she wanted. To this day, Aretha considers her book an accurate portrait.”Franklin’s imprint is all over the film “Respect” as well. She handpicked Hudson, a move that set music as the center of the movie but risked the appearance that Hudson’s depiction might be too dependent on Franklin’s own self-image. In other words, as good as the music sounds (and it sounds soooooo very, very good), the plot holes about her past, which seemed to inform much of her character’s decision-making, kept nagging at me as I watched.Why did her mother, Barbara (Audra McDonald), leave her children behind with her domineering husband, the Rev. C.L. Franklin (Forest Whitaker), only to show up, after her death, as an angelic force in Aretha’s life?Why doesn’t Aretha remember having to rush to the roof and sing loudly with her sisters as children in order to drown out her parents fighting?And what is the shame the film keeps hinting at, but, like Aretha, never wants to confront?What does she need music to save her from?In one notable scene in “Respect,” her friend the Rev. James Cleveland says to Aretha, “There are no demons. Just the pain you’ve been running from your whole life.” Reassuring her more, Cleveland notes, “He knows it wasn’t your fault.”Cynthia Erivo as the singer in “Genius: Aretha.”Richard Ducree/National GeographicAnd because we aren’t quite sure if he is referring to her pregnancy, her mother’s departure or something else, we applaud Aretha’s catharsis while wondering about the cause.The mini-series “Genius: Aretha,” written by the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Suzan-Lori Parks, however, is more forthcoming. By showing a young Aretha as the victim of sexual assault and attributing her parents’ breakup to her father’s own impregnating of a 12-year-old girl in his congregation, potential explanations of her childhood trauma are revealed but do not dominate its depiction.But even in this version, Aretha is a somewhat muted presence, and Erivo (a powerhouse vocalist herself) sometimes seems constrained by the need to toggle back and forth between Franklin’s introverted nature at home and her iconic status onstage.A scene from the documentary “Amazing Grace,” which the singer didn’t want released.Amazing Grace Film, LLCMaybe this is why I still find myself obsessed with the one movie that she never wanted to be seen onscreen: the documentary “Amazing Grace.” Filmed ​​by Pollack over two nights in a Los Angeles Baptist church in the predominantly Black neighborhood of Watts, “Amazing Grace” is all gospel, a cinematic capturing of spiritual ecstasy and religious exaltation, and a Franklin who surrenders her voice to God, and is at her most sublime.Dismissing the documentary in 1999 in her memoir, she told Ritz, “When I saw what had been done in one section of the film, I was appalled.” She went on, referring to the gospel singer Clara Ward, “One of the cameramen kept shooting straight up underneath Clara’s dress. She was in the front row. Talk about bad taste!” (Franklin would later say her aversion to its release had nothing to do with its content, which she claimed to have “loved.”) Her disdain for the project led her to sue repeatedly to block its release, though it finally found its way to theaters a few months after her death in 2018.This is perhaps why both “Respect” and “Genius: Aretha” felt compelled to include Pollack’s shoot in their narratives. For “Amazing Grace” had the privilege of giving us Franklin on her own musical terms without having to contend with the singer’s self-portrait. And in that freedom, it was able to share itself as one of Franklin’s best kept secrets. More

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    How Jennifer Hudson Prepared to Play Aretha Franklin

    For the new biopic “Respect,” the singer researched the life of a yearslong friend and role model to better understand the circumstances that shaped her.Jennifer Hudson had plenty of time to think about how to portray Aretha Franklin onscreen. In 2007, soon after Hudson won the Academy Award for best supporting actress — for playing a girl-group singer in “Dreamgirls” — Franklin told Hudson she should play her in a biopic, starting a decade-long friendship filled with weekly conversations. Like Franklin, Hudson grew up singing in church, and she has poured gospel virtuosity into pop songs. And like Franklin, whose mother died at 34 of a heart attack, Hudson experienced sudden, devastating loss: her mother, brother and nephew were murdered in Chicago in 2008. In her career, Hudson has repeatedly paid tribute to Franklin, from using a Franklin song for her “American Idol” audition in 2004 to singing “Amazing Grace” at Franklin’s funeral in 2018. Now, Hudson is playing Franklin in the biopic “Respect” that comes to theaters this week.“Every artist, every musician, you’ve got to cross paths with Aretha, especially if you want to be great,” Hudson said in a video interview from Chicago, where she lives; her gray cat, Macavity, prowled in the background. “She’s always been present in my life in some form, even when I didn’t know it.”As Hudson explained the choices that went into her performance, she said that through the movie, she came to understand just how much of a “blueprint” Franklin was. “Our church music was based solely on her. The ‘Amazing Grace’ that I grew up singing in church came from her ‘Amazing Grace’ album. I didn’t realize that until we were doing research on the film.”Hudson, 39, is both the star and an executive producer of “Respect.” The film chronicles Franklin’s life from her childhood — as a vocal prodigy singing in church alongside her father, the eminent Reverend Clarence L. Franklin — through her pregnancy at 12, her frustrating years singing jazz standards at Columbia Records, her triumphant emergence as the Queen of Soul at Atlantic Records, and the pressures and drinking that threatened all she had achieved. Its story concludes in 1972 with Franklin reclaiming her church heritage to record her landmark live gospel album, “Amazing Grace.”Hudson as Aretha Franklin opposite Tituss Burgess in “Respect.”Quantrell D. Colbert/MGM“Respect” is the first film directed by Liesl Tommy, who was born in South Africa under apartheid and has worked extensively in theater, directing reconceptualized classics and politically charged new plays like “Eclipsed,” about women during the civil war in Liberia. (She was nominated for a best director Tony for that production.) To write the screenplay for “Respect,” Tommy brought in the playwright Tracey Scott Wilson, whose grandfather was a preacher.“When I pitched my idea of the film,” Tommy said by telephone from Los Angeles, “it was that it should start in the church and end in the church. The theme of the film was the woman with the greatest voice on earth, struggling to find her voice. I wanted to know how a person sings with such emotional intensity.“A lot of people have brilliant voices,” she continued, “but she’s the only one who delivers songs the way she does. I don’t think you become the Queen of Soul if you have an easy ride. There was a lived experience that allowed her to sing like that.”Franklin was celebrated anew after her death in 2018. The long-shelved concert film made when she recorded the “Amazing Grace” album was finally released that year. And National Geographic devoted a full season of its television series “Genius” to Franklin, with Cynthia Erivo in the title role. “Aretha Franklin lived a life where there’s room for many, many versions of many stories about her,” Tommy said. “She deserves that.”“Respect” juxtaposes the personal and political currents of Franklin’s career: forging a feminist anthem with “Respect” while grappling with an abusive husband, appearing regularly with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. while supporting controversial figures like the Black Power activist Angela Davis. One of the rawest scenes involves Franklin singing at King’s funeral. “Imagine being Aretha Franklin in that era and Dr. King, whom she was so close to, being assassinated,” Hudson said. “Imagine the suffering and the pain she was going through. But in her position, she still had to be that person to be the light in such a dark time. That’s hard.”Though Hudson had spoken regularly with Franklin, she still had to conduct research: “Aretha wasn’t a person who verbalized too much unless it was through music.”Bethany Mollenkof for The New York TimesStill, Hudson and Tommy were determined to place Franklin’s music at the center of the film. “Everybody is, like, ‘We’ve never seen a biopic with this much music, where you get to hear the songs,’” Hudson said. “This is not a musical. It’s a biopic about artists, musicians. But I can’t think of any biopic or musical that has been done this way.”As executive producer, Hudson said, “I wanted to make sure the right songs were in the film. I wanted ‘Ain’t No Way.’ If I’m just an actor, I don’t really get a say, but with this, it’s like, ‘I’m sorry, but we can’t do this unless “Ain’t No Way” is a part of it.’”In an extended recording-studio sequence, Aretha’s sisters, Carolyn and Erma Franklin, sing all the backup vocals — not Cissy Houston, whose wordless soprano counterpoint transfigures the song. “That is part of artistic license,” Tommy said. “You can only have so many characters. You have to keep it focused.”To create immediacy, Hudson delivered Franklin’s onstage performances by singing live on camera — not lip-syncing, not dubbing in vocals afterward. “I wanted to experience it as she did in her life,” Hudson said. “Whatever we were re-enacting and recreating that she did in her life, if it was live, it’s like, ‘Well, let’s do it live.’ ‘Amazing Grace’ was live. ‘Ain’t No Way’ was live. ‘Natural Woman,’ we’re going to sing it live. So it could be authentic to what really was in her life.”Franklin was an accomplished gospel pianist as well as a singer, skills forged in her childhood in the church. Her early, commercially unsuccessful albums for Columbia backed her with celebrated jazz musicians and elaborate orchestral arrangements. It was elegant but in the 1960s, it was already old-fashioned.Hudson — with Marc Maron, left, and Marlon Wayans — learned to play piano for “Respect.” Quantrell D. Colbert/MGMHer return to the piano was one catalyst for her indelible Atlantic hits, defining the groove with churchy foundations and building a visceral call-and-response between her fingers and her voice. Hudson, after a career of working solely as a singer, set out to learn piano. “It was an actor’s choice to say ‘I cannot play Aretha Franklin without learning some element of the piano,’” Hudson said. “And now, when I’m learning music, I no longer just look at the top line, the melody line, the singing line. I’m considering it as an arranger. What key is that in? What is the progression?”Hudson also pondered how to reinterpret Franklin’s songs. Their voices are different: Hudson’s is higher and clearer, Franklin’s bluesier and grittier, and Hudson wanted to emulate Franklin without copying her. “I was using her approach, just allowing whatever that influence is that she’s had on me to come through, while using her inflections and different nuances,” Hudson said. “It was more about the feeling than matching the notes.”Despite their years of conversations, Hudson still had to research Franklin. “Aretha wasn’t a person who verbalized too much unless it was through music,” she said. “I know from my experiences of being around her, I used to be like, I can’t really tell where I stand. She didn’t give you much.” So Hudson set out to understand the era in which she grew up and other circumstances to get a sense of what it was like to be a woman then. “It wasn’t for me until literally in the middle of scenes that I realized, the things she had been saying to me, she was speaking from experience. Her greatest expression was through her music — and that was real.” More

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    ‘Respect’ Review: Giving Aretha Franklin Her Propers

    Jennifer Hudson plays Aretha Franklin in a movie that follows many of the usual biographical beats but finds its own groove.Ray Charles said that Aretha Franklin “sang from her inners.” For her father, C.L. Franklin, she was “a stone singer.” That’s a good description for a great singer whose voice did something that even some brilliant, technically virtuosic vocalists can’t do. When Franklin was at her most sublime, her voice seemed to give shape to the entirety of human feeling — to the joy and the despair — so much so that it seemed as if she were birthing a twinned version of herself with each breath and soul-stirring note.The new drama “Respect” is a march-of-time fictionalization of Franklin’s life. Attractively cast and handsomely mounted — Jennifer Hudson plays the queen — it is a solid, sanitized, unfailingly polite portrait. It conforms to the familiar biopic arc: the artist begins humbly; reaches towering heights (artistic, commercial, maybe both); suffers a setback (bad lovers, addiction); only to rise higher still. In album titles, the movie flows to the beat of Franklin’s discography from “The Electrifying Aretha Franklin” to “Laughing on the Outside,” “Spirit in the Dark” and “Get It Right.”Taken as a whole, the movie — directed by Liesl Tommy from a script by Tracey Scott Wilson — doesn’t hold you firmly, though it has its moments. First, it has to dispatch with the standard preliminaries, including Aretha’s childhood, with its crackling tensions and cautiously muted torments. It’s a story that’s been told before, including by the Franklin biographer David Ritz. Here that life is often in soft focus, and generally sprinkled with tears rather than drenched. Even so, it is catnip to watch the young Aretha (Skye Dakota Turner) wander her family’s house late at night, smiling and hailing partygoers she calls out to as “Uncle Duke” (as in Ellington) and “Aunt Ella” (Ms. Fitzgerald to we mortals).Tommy, a theater director making her feature film debut, handles the material and its many moving parts with assurance. “Respect” opens in Detroit in 1952, where the young Aretha is living with her siblings under the stern eye of their father, C.L. (Forest Whitaker). A legendary Baptist minister and friend to Martin Luther King Jr. (Gilbert Glenn Brown), C.L. lords over his house with imposing hauteur and an unpredictable temper. Also sternly minding the brood is his mother (Kimberly Scott), who’s helping raise the children. Their mother, Barbara (Audra McDonald), a saintly figure in amber, has split from her husband and lives elsewhere, and clearly has Aretha’s heart.Everyone and everything in “Respect” looks good if not too movie-perfect. The rooms seem lived in and the people feel real, none more so than Mary J. Blige, who, as Dinah Washington, briefly sets the movie ablaze. Oddly, a showdown between Aretha and Dinah is borrowed from a confrontation Washington had with Etta James. Perhaps that was to give the movie juice, because otherwise the first chunk slides into the sluggish and dutiful. A distinct exception is a shocking, dimly lit image of the young Aretha that made me gasp. It’s a simple, devastating vision of trauma that lingers even as the story motors on and continues to hit the biographical markers: Hello, Jerry Wexler (Marc Maron).“Respect” succeeds in doing exactly what is expected of it. You may argue with this or that filmmaking choice and regret its overly smooth edges, but it does give you a sense of Franklin as a historical figure, a crossover success story and a full-throttle, fur-draped diva. (As a mother, she remains M.I.A.) Mostly, it gives you her music, with its passion and power, lyricism and schmaltz. Long after they fell off the charts, these are songs that light you up — with feelings, memories — when you hear them. You sing along with them in your head and, after the credits roll, you keep on singing (and murdering) them.A line in one of Ritz’s books on Franklin sheds light on the challenges of transposing her complicated life to the screen. “The pain stayed silent in all areas except music, where, magnificently,” Ritz wrote, “it formed a voice that said it all.” The movie has a tough time handling this quiet, and even when Hudson takes over, the character remains frustratingly vague. She’s misty rather than mysterious, maybe because for too long she is drifting along rather than steering her own course. When she walks into Columbia Records, escorted by her father, she is an unanswered question; the puzzlement only deepens when C.L. orders Aretha to stand up and twirl for a surprised record executive.Things vastly improve once the adult Aretha sits down with some session players and starts pulling apart the songs she will rebuild, discovering “her true voice,” as Franklin’s sister Carolyn (Hailey Kilgore) once put it. Hudson is a deeply appealing screen presence, and it’s a pleasure to watch her just walk into a room. She doesn’t look or sound like Franklin, but she manages the role confidently and with a pure singing voice that more than holds its own. She never feels possessed by Aretha, even when she’s making you rhythmically sway in your seat. Yet Hudson also manages what memorable singers do: she transports you, pulling you alongside her as she takes you up, up and away.Hudson with Marc Maron, who plays the record producer Jerry Wexler.Quantrell D. Colbert/Metro Goldwyn MayerThat’s a nice place to be (and to feel), even intermittently, because it’s then that Aretha Franklin flickers before you. She died in 2018 at 76 and her life was filled with agonies that the movie seems anxious to attenuate or ignore, as if the depth of her pain and its rawness might tarnish her legacy. That’s too bad but it doesn’t damage this movie, which finds an enjoyable groove as Aretha falters and triumphs anew. In the end, it is the music and your love for her that keeps you going and watching. With their hooks and oceans of feeling, Franklin’s songs worked on you and worked you over. They entered our bodies and souls, our cultural and personal DNA, becoming part of the soundtrack for our lives.RespectRated PG-13 for language, violence and child pregnancy. Running time: 2 hours 25 minutes. In theaters. More

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    In ‘Genius: Aretha,’ Respecting the Mind, Not Just the Soul

    When she started preparing for the National Geographic series “Genius: Aretha,” the showrunner Suzan-Lori Parks did what one often does before tackling a biographical project: She crammed. Her approach was a little unusual, though.“I spent months and months reading about what she said, and also noting what she didn’t say,” Parks said of the singer, songwriter and activist Aretha Franklin in a video conversation last month. “Jazz musicians will remind us that the music isn’t just the notes, it’s the stuff between the notes, the silences.”And there were plenty of both during Franklin’s extraordinary life — the focus of the third season of “Genius,” which premieres on March 21 with the British actress and singer Cynthia Erivo in the title role. For Parks, that presented both an opportunity and a challenge: Franklin tried hard to control her public persona, which didn’t seem to be a huge priority for the subjects of the two previous seasons of “Genius,” Albert Einstein and Pablo Picasso, whose sometimes less-than-stellar behavior might have even enhanced their mystique.But for Franklin, a Black woman who rose to superstardom amid the Civil Rights conflagrations of the 1960s, the stakes were different.“I think she very much wanted to be seen in a certain way,” said Parks. “As Black American people, we are very aware of our marketability, and as Black American artists, we are maybe even more aware of our marketability.”“My challenge,” she added, “was: ‘How do I tell the truth about this Black American woman who is a brilliant icon? And how do I tell the truth and be respectful?’”There was certainly a wealth of material, given Franklin’s decades in the spotlight as one of the world’s most famous singers. Franklin made her first album at 14, signed with Columbia Records at 18 and went on to record and perform well into her 70s, earning 18 competitive Grammies, a National Medal of Arts and the Presidential Medal of Freedom. By the time she died in 2018, at age 76, she had sold tens of millions records, scored 20 No. 1 R&B hits and was the first woman inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.Erivo, who won a Tony, Grammy and Daytime Emmy for her role in the musical version of “The Color Purple,” was tasked not only with portraying the woman whose undisputed nickname was “the Queen of Soul” but also with singing like her — Erivo performed the vocals for Franklin’s tracks. She tried to look at the bigger picture.Erivo, an accomplished singer and songwriter, worked with a vocal coach to capture Franklin’s essence in the studio and onstage. Richard DuCree/National Geographic“I was more interested in telling the story as truthfully as I possibly could, as opposed to mimicking,” Erivo said in a video call last month — though her interpretations are eerily spot on, too.“I would want to know: ‘Where are we right now? What is this coming out of or what are we going into? What is the feeling here?’” she added. Erivo and a vocal coach would begin by trying to zoom in on the finer details of Franklin’s technical virtuosity and her subtle emotional inflections.“Then you let it go,” Erivo continued. “No one wants to watch someone singing analytically. No one wants to watch someone doing the notes. You learn them, you understand them, and then you let that go so that there’s a freedom for it to just move through you.”For Parks, zeroing in on truth in a series called “Genius” began with reflections on the meaning of the word and what it implies. She has, herself, been given that label, having received a MacArthur Fellowship — known as the “genius award” — for her playwriting. She was the first Black woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for drama, for “Topdog/Underdog,” and she recently penned the screenplay for the film “The United States vs. Billie Holiday.”Doing the series was an opportunity, she said, “to talk about Aretha Franklin’s genius, specifically, and what Black female genius might look like.” One important aspect was Franklin’s ability to build bridges, particularly during the Civil Rights era, often alongside Martin Luther King Jr., played by Ethan Henry. (King is the subject of the next season of “Genius.”)Another, which Parks contended was among Franklin’s most distinctive achievements, was the way she “alchemized her pain into sonic gold.”Parks said she drew from “mountains of research” to depict the biographical elements for that alchemy, toggling between Franklin’s adult life and her adolescent past. Central to the story is Franklin’s father, the Rev. C.L. Franklin (Courtney B. Vance), with whom the young Aretha (played by Shaian Jordan) had a close but complex relationship. The leader of the New Bethel Baptist Church in Detroit, C.L. was a celebrity in his own right and segued smoothly from indulging in earthly delights on Saturdays to preaching heavenly sermons on Sundays.Courtney B. Vance plays Franklin’s father, the Rev. C.L. Franklin, a man of enormous charisma and many contradictions.Richard DuCree/National GeographicAretha was 6 when her mother, a gospel singer and pianist, left C.L. because of his infidelities. (She died four years later.) Left in charge, C.L. cultivated his daughter’s talent and began taking her on rowdy gospel tours from age 12. The reverend could be domineering, but he loved his daughter, whom he affectionately called Little Re, and was supportive; in the series, he surrounds her with enviable role models, including the singer Dinah Washington and the jazz pianist Art Tatum.Still, life as a charismatic preacher’s daughter on the road could be fraught. Little Re had two of her four sons by the time she was 15.“I think I would be a mess if I had a child whilst doing all the things I’m doing right now,” said Erivo. “I don’t know how she did that, because I don’t believe she was ever half-doing anything.”The series doesn’t shy from less savory details of Franklin’s biography, including difficult relationships and the impact her ambitions sometimes had on loved ones. Her first husband and early manager, Ted White (Malcolm Barrett), is portrayed as petty, incompetent and physically abusive. Her sister Carolyn (Rebecca Naomi Jones), another gifted songwriter and performer, gets into a bitter dispute with Aretha after Aretha snatches away some promising material.Getting to the bottom of Franklin’s life has often proved difficult. She left so much out of her autobiography, “From These Roots,” that a frustrated David Ritz, who had been hired to help write it, went on to pen the much more detailed and revealing biography “Respect.” She condemned it as “a very trashy book.” A similarly contentious episode involving a Time cover story is enacted in the show: When the article is published, she feels betrayed by both the journalist and his sources — including her own husband.Aretha Franklin in 2015 at the New Bethel Baptist Church in Detroit, singing at a memorial service for her father and brother Cecil, who were ministers there.Elizabeth Conley/Detroit News, via Associated PressAttempts to put Franklin onscreen have been knotty, as well. Franklin sued multiple times to block the release of the Sydney Pollack documentary “Amazing Grace,” which chronicled the recording of her electrifying double-platinum 1972 gospel album of the same name before a live audience at a Baptist church in Los Angeles. (Asked after its wide theatrical release in 2019 why he thought Aretha disliked the film, Chuck Rainey, the bassist on “Amazing Grace,” said he believed the film was too focused on style and the celebrities in the audience, including her father and the singer Clara Ward. “It was like she was wallpaper,” he said.)A public and continuing feud among Franklin’s heirs has continued to muddy the waters since her death. Earlier this year, her son Kecalf Franklin said on Instagram that “Genius” did not have the family’s support. (He has similarly attacked MGM for its long-delayed biopic, “Respect,” scheduled for August, for which Aretha handpicked Jennifer Hudson to star.)However, Brian Grazer, an executive producer of “Genius,” said that before filming started, the production received the endorsement of Aretha Franklin’s estate through its trustee at the time, Sabrina Owens, the singer’s niece. “We had the estate 100 percent on board, and the trustee to the estate granted us this,” he said. (Owens, who resigned as trustee last year, referred queries to the current lawyer for the estate, who did not reply to multiple requests for comment.)Through it all, however, there is the music, which is the central, and perhaps most memorable element of the series — appropriately, given Franklin’s supersized influence on modern music.“She was able to redeploy the melisma by giving us these testimonies about Black womanhood, about Black humanity within the context of the soul-music genre,” said Daphne A. Brooks, the author of “Liner Notes for the Revolution: The Intellectual Life of Black Feminist Sound” and a professor of African-American studies at Yale. “It transformed the pop-music landscape: We now have a kind of standard form of pop singing that comes from Aretha Franklin.”As such, many of the most illuminating scenes in “Genius” deal not with Franklin’s private life but with the way the often shy, soft-spoken musician shaped her own work.Aretha Franklin’s drive sometimes created tension with loved ones, including her sister Carolyn (played by Rebecca Naomi Jones, left, with Erivo, Patrice Covington and Erika Jerry).Richard DuCree/National Geographic“When you start getting to know what it takes to make a hit song, to be in a recording studio, to work with musicians who, in the case of Muscle Shoals, are all white men in 1967 — that is a huge, brilliant triumph for her,” Parks said.The full scale of Franklin’s contributions to her own music has long been obscured. She was a gifted songwriter and a superb pianist. In the studio, she was a taskmaster, pushing herself and her collaborators until they captured the exact sound she heard in her head — not easy for a Black female musician of her time. In the series, we see her have to ask to be credited as a producer on her biggest-selling album, “Amazing Grace,” the making of which is given an entire episode.“I knew right when I started this project that that was going to be the place where the magic happened,” Parks said. “The story of ‘Amazing Grace’ revolves around something that is, again, not said. Watching the documentary, which is beautiful, I wanted to know the story behind it.”“Amazing Grace” is pure gospel, which was Franklin’s emotional and spiritual anchor. But the show also demonstrates her uncommon fluency in most dominant genres of her time, including jazz, blues, Tin Pan Alley, funk and pop — “Aretha is Black, female, American,” Parks said, laughing. In her music, as in her activism, Franklin tried to reach as many people as possible. It clearly worked.“This is the stuff, in my opinion, of Black female genius,” Parks said. “She brought people together for the greater good.” More

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    Review: ‘Genius: Aretha’ Speaks Loudest When It Sings

    Cynthia Erivo is dynamic in a bio-series that is strongest when it makes the case for the Queen of Soul as a creative force.At a recording session in 1967, Aretha Franklin (Cynthia Erivo) sits at the piano and plays a chord none of her studio musicians recognize. It’s “funky,” one of them says. But it’s also “celestial.” Earth and heaven. Body and soul.To create something new out of nothing more than vibrations in the air is as good a definition of genius as any. And it expands on the definition implied in the first two seasons of National Geographic’s bio-anthology, which focused on Albert Einstein and Pablo Picasso. These “Think Different” poster stars were not exactly out-of-the-box choices, and “Genius,” its title notwithstanding, plodded in that mushy middle ground where dutiful biography meets mediocre storytelling.Choosing Franklin, who died in 2018, for Season 3 is a statement, not just because it breaks the series’s Great Man pattern to focus on a Black, female popular entertainer. It’s also an extension of Franklin’s own career-long project: to be recognized not simply as a volcanic performer but as a thoughtful interpreter, artist and creator.So “Genius: Aretha,” which airs eight episodes over four nights starting Sunday, has an argument, and an opportunity to shake up the format. It does — sometimes.The new “Genius” spends most of its time in routine music-biopic mode: exposition, childhood traumas, historical checkpoints. But in the moments when it finds its groove, thanks to Erivo’s incandescent performance and its insight into Franklin’s process, it socks it to us.The showrunner, Suzan-Lori Parks (a Pulitzer Prize winner for her play “Topdog/Underdog”) hopscotches decades in her narrative. One thread follows Franklin through the meat of her career (from her 1960s breakthrough to the 1970s, in the seven episodes screened for critics). The other has Little Re (a luminous Shaian Jordan) finding her voice, literally and figuratively, as the daughter of C.L. Franklin (Courtney B. Vance), a high-profile pastor in Detroit.The elder Franklin was a civil-rights advocate and gospel-caravan preacher, who, as people say of him, loved Saturday night as much as Sunday morning. The breakup of his marriage over his infidelities weighs on Little Re and the older Queen of Soul. But as a performer in his own right — Vance finds the rolling-thunder musicality in his sermons — he recognizes and promotes his daughter’s talent early. (He also keeps a hand in her career long into her adulthood.)The indispensability of the Black church to American culture — it gave our song music and lyrics — is a through line of “Aretha.” (It would make a good companion to PBS’s recent “The Black Church.”) Another through line: Franklin’s determination to maintain her independence and vision among the men in her life, first C.L., then her first husband and manager, Ted White (Malcolm Barrett), given to jealous fits and violent tantrums.Unfortunately for those hoping to hear the hits, “Aretha” did not have the rights to “Respect” and “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.” But this shifts the season’s focus toward more unexpected, artistically revealing choices, like her finding the gospel sway in Elton John’s “Border Song.”It’s no surprise that Erivo, a Grammy and Tony winner for “The Color Purple,” can re-create Franklin’s gale-force vocals. But her performance is more than imitation. It’s an idea of the character, her passion and dignity, her release and control, the way that music transports her.Projecting confidence and protecting her image is key to Franklin, in an industry that would gladly tell her who she is. After a frustrating effort to break out as a jazz singer, she forms a long, sometimes contentious partnership with the producer Jerry Wexler, a curiously cast David Cross. (Fairly or not, it’s hard not to see and hear Cross’s “Arrested Development” persona in his bearing and speech; while the show brings the funk, he brings the Fünke.)Courtney B. Vance playing Aretha’s father, C.L. Franklin, in one of many flashback scenes starring Shaian Jordan as the singer’s younger self, nicknamed Little Re.Richard DuCree/National GeographicThe most interesting parts of “Aretha” are in the stage and the studio, not just for the excellently produced songs but also for the series’s rendering of her art. Franklin, as “Aretha” presents her, knows who she is.She is a musician, not formally trained, but with an acute producer’s ear. (During one session she has someone return an empty pizza box to the top of her piano for the ineffable tone it gives the instrument.)She is Black, and Blackness becomes increasingly central to her music and her politics — which are also rooted in her early church experience. (Her conversations with the family friend Martin Luther King Jr., played by Ethan Henry, recall the discussions in “One Night in Miami” about the obligations of the Black artist.)All these aspects converge in the sixth episode, about the recording of her 1972 live album, “Amazing Grace,” at the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Los Angeles, filmed by Sydney Pollack for a movie that would stay in the can for nearly a half century. Just as the performance synthesized Franklin’s history and identity, her personal vision and community consciousness, so the episode brings together the threads of “Aretha.” It might have made a strong movie, or the centerpiece of a more tightly focused series.But “Aretha” feels bound, like the earlier “Genius” seasons, to give us the usual encyclopedia entry of life moments. The high points are connected by overfamiliar biopic beats and historical moments conveyed through TV news broadcasts. The scripts and the direction hold the viewer’s hand, using melodramatic scoring and imagery and blunt dialogue. (“You’ll get there,” Wexler says, “when you realize you’re Aretha Franklin and nobody else.”)While the series has an animating sense of Franklin as an artist, she is a moving target as a person. Her determination could make her difficult, with colleagues and family, and “Aretha” faces this — when, for instance, she undercuts her sister Carolyn (Rebecca Naomi Jones), also an aspiring singer. But the series sometimes seems caught in the void created by Franklin’s careful image management; the central figure turns reserved and enigmatic at key moments.This adds up to a revealing portrait of Franklin’s art inside a fuzzier bio-series of her life, which is a trade-off, but better than the reverse. After all, the name of the franchise is “Genius,” and Parks’s story sings convincingly of why Franklin deserves the same title as Einstein and Picasso. “Aretha” is a vibrant effort to give her artistry some R-E-S-P-E-C-T, even if we don’t entirely find out what it means to her. More