WHAT’S IT ABOUT
Members of Parliament-Funkadelic open up about money, their exploits, and the creativity behind the unique genre of music called funk.
MOVIESinMO REVIEW
When Bobby Brown famously sang “Every Little Step I Take,” he had no clue he was repeating the gradual yet revolutionary path that George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic would cut through American music. Director Bobby J. Brown’s 2016 documentary “Tear The Roof Off: The Untold Story of Parliament Funkadelic” recounts this journey in fine style, bringing well-deserved focus to one of Black music’s most innovative and significant bands. Watching this documentary as a Black film critic, I look at my own cultural heritage and understand how P-Funk is significant for more than entertainment. Brown’s film is more than the story of a group of eccentric artists in outlandish attire; it is a testament to an unafraid Black art movement that defied musical borders and addressed the social and political issues of post-Civil Rights Black America. The film begins with taking us to Clinton’s humble start in a New Jersey barbershop, where he sang with a doo-wop quartet known as The Parliaments. This is the launchpad for his phenomenal journey.Featuring first-person interviews with Clinton and band members Bootsy Collins, Bernie Worrell, and others, we discover how they transformed themselves from a standard R&B band into psychedelic funk masters. Brown skillfully intercuts archival footage and newly recorded interviews to build a narrative that respects both the historical importance of P-Funk and its relevance today. The documentary does not hesitate to show the group’s contradictions and complexities. Their embrace of Afrofuturism in cosmic imagery and theatrical live performances was more than mere gimmickry. It was a reappropriation of Black imagination and identity at a time when both were being assaulted. The documentary truly shines in depicting P-Funk’s business struggles and exploitation in the music industry. The group’s battles with record labels for ownership of their work and payment mirror what many Black artists have gone through in music history. These segments are important background, showing the history of P-Funk in the larger history of Black artists trying to control their work and how they were perceived. The movie also tells the story of the band’s history. It tells of the drug problems that became common in the band, the fights among members, and how the P-Funk band ultimately broke up. This frankness renders the documentary more than a mere accolades-driven narrative, painting a nuanced portrait of genius-level talent and human frailty. Of particular note is the way Brown connects the P-Funk creativity to the broader Black cultural practice of making something out of nothing. The band’s characteristic spirit of culture, from the homemade costumes to the creative utilization of available instruments, testifies to the ingenuity that has always been present in Black American culture. This part of the film is important since it shows how necessity and marginalization can lead to innovation in culture. The film also rightly identifies P-Funk’s huge impact on later generations of Black music. Through interviews with hip-hop founders like Chuck D and Dr. Dre, we see how Parliament Funkadelic’s sounds and ideas influenced rap music. This shows how P-Funk’s Mothership is connected to the Afrofuturism of artists now like Janelle Monáe and Flying Lotus. If there’s anything wrong with the movie, it’s that it tries to fit a large story into a short time frame. Some band members are not given as much attention as others, and certain periods in the group’s career seem rushed. The documentary occasionally suffers from the same issue that the band did—how to coherently present a musical ensemble that was intentionally dissolved and complicated. The film talks about politics in P-Funk’s songs. Yet, it could delve deeper into how tracks like “Chocolate City” and “One Nation Under a Groove” contained strong messages about Black political awareness and togetherness. They weren’t just dance tunes; they were similar to messages with melody. Watching “Tear the Roof Off” is both educational and entertaining. For long-time P-Funk fans, it offers a fresh perspective and behind-the-scenes insight. New fans are given a great primer for a band that continues to impact music today in ways that many aren’t even aware of. What makes this documentary so timely for Black audiences is the fact that it seeks to reclaim P-Funk’s position in Black musical history. The group is far too often dismissed as a fad in popular music history, and their important innovations and cultural impact are downplayed. Brown’s film remedies this mistake by placing Parliament Funkadelic in its rightful position—at the vanguard of Black musical creativity and expression. The movie’s greatest success is in capturing P-Funk’s transformative spirit—the idea that Black creativity can change the world, that funk can liberate people, and that, as Clinton famously once said, “Free your mind, and your ass will follow.” In a time when Black art still grapples with being authentic, getting profitable, and being politically active, the P-Funk ideal is more pertinent than ever. “Tear the Roof Off” works because it understands that what was special about Parliament Funkadelic wasn’t their music alone, but their vision. Their vision was one of Black creativity free from earthly constraints, stretching towards the stars while still being connected to the people. Brown maintains that balance nicely, so his documentary is not so much a record of musical history but rather an example of how powerful Black artistic expression can be. To maintain this significant portion of Black music creativity with the proper depth, funk, and dignity, “Tear the Roof Off: The Untold Story of Parliament Funkadelic” is not flawless but fabulously and freely funky.
OUR RATING – A MAGGOT BRAIN 8