纪录片自媒体解说素材-新闻动态参考-“ Mary J. Blige的“我的生活”评论：地标R＆B专辑获得了纪录片的焦点/‘Mary J. Blige’s My Life’ Review: Landmark R&B Album Gets a Documentary Spotlight
https://cdn.6867.top:6867/A1A/hddoc/news/2022/07/0507/4828xitpocjlzui.jpg“ Mary J. Blige的“我的生活”评论：地标R＆B专辑获得了纪录片的焦点
‘Mary J. Blige’s My Life’ Review: Landmark R&B Album Gets a Documentary Spotlight
玛丽·J·布利格（Mary J. Blige）的1992年首次亮相是“什么是411？”，是一场即时的粉碎，使年轻的Yonkers歌手成为多平台播放器，时尚偶像，以及R＆B明星在嘻哈音乐中看起来和声音的原型时代。但是直到她的第二张专辑《 1994年的“我的生活””，我们大多数人都熟悉的是 - 一位袖手旁观的歌手兼词者兼作曲家不敢通过音乐来讲述自己的重大创伤 - 真正开始塑造。追踪这张专辑的《黑暗创世纪》，探索其与粉丝的遗产，并在2019年的一场2019年音乐会上展出了简短的表演片段，布莱格上演了25周年，凡妮莎·罗斯（Vanessa Roth）的《玛丽·J·布利格（Mary J. Blige）的我的生活》（Mary J. Blige）的生活没有主题本人的合作不足（也是执行制片人）。但是，这部电影有一个表情的光泽度，有时会忽略有关作品的疣和全部力量 - 作为以粉丝为中心的回顾，它击中了很多正确的音符；但作为一个有机会更彻底地探索一个复杂的，仍然不可思议的地标，它从来没有足够深入的挖掘。Blige在90年代初的流行文化当时是独一无二的，而且回想起来似乎更是如此。Blige避免了经常看到女性R＆B歌手对其更独特的属性喷枪的阶段性过程的一部分，从一开始就为她的角色带来了彻底的现代真实性，即使大部分最初的形象是由非常年轻的A＆r Sean“造型”，“迪迪（Diddy）梳子，他从唱片公司炼狱中摘下了她，并帮助她成为了完全不同的星星。但是，她的早期职业可能最引人注目的是她开始在大二的发行中控制自己的叙述，写自己的歌词并以自己的生活为原始材料。，罗斯带我们穿越了布莱格的艰难旅程，从她在Yonkers的Schlobohm住房项目中艰难的童年，她记得经常见证针对妇女的暴力行为，包括母亲。在她经常与Uptown Records创始人安德烈·哈雷尔（Andre Harrell）的第一次会面上，她在购物中心录制的Anita Baker封面的实力；她自己对多平子明星的迷失方向，这使它与滥用药物，抑郁症和与Jodeci Star K-CI的有毒关系陷入困境。正如她所说的那样，当她到处制作第二张专辑时，Blige已经“全部搞砸了”，并将这种绝望倒入了她的工作室作品中。罗斯的摄像机与“我的生活”制作人查基·汤普森（Chucky Thompson）和合作者Big Bub抓住了Blige的情感聚会，他们回想起经常像治疗课程一样运作的歌曲创作和录制日期。 ，人们不禁希望这部电影对制作它的实际过程进行更深入的研究。 F工作室的Ootage稀疏部署，并且没有探索很多问题。当他们听到专辑时，标签或广播程序员是否会有回音？ （Blige在摇滚世界中的同时代人 - 从库尔特·科本（Kurt Cobain）到克里斯·康奈尔（Chris Cornell），有足够的空间通过歌曲来驱除他们的个人恶魔，但是这个空间并不总是那么容易授予黑人艺术家，尤其是女性的艺术家。必须为之奋斗吗？她如何找到自己作为词曲作者和作词家的声音，“我的生活”如何告知她未来的工作，例如2005年同样个人的“突破”？在电影中更令人着迷的序列之一中，布莱格观看了一段旧视频，她从专辑发行时就关闭了一位无聊的电视采访者，以及她年轻的自我的笔记：“我对那个女孩非常保护。”她是否将此作为给电影制片人的信息是很难说。雷克斯 - 从塔拉吉·亨森（Taraji P.但是，也许在与歌迷的相遇中看到了这张专辑遗产的最明显证明，其中一些人毫不犹豫地告诉Blige她的音乐如何在长达几秒钟的见面会中挽救了他们的生命。 Blige似乎并不总是知道如何做出反应，这是可以理解的。像炼狱一样，“我的生命”可能已经存在，而且像这种欣赏一样谦虚，这是对如此痛苦的渠道的责任，不仅是她自己的痛苦，而且是众多粉丝军团她是一种善良的精神 - 肯定是可观的。尽管Blige通常似乎是诚意的开放态度，但她似乎也知道在哪里绘制障碍，这也适用于这部电影。毕竟，这是她的生活，而不是我们的生活。
Mary J. Blige’s 1992 debut, “What’s the 411?,” was an instant smash that established the young Yonkers singer as a multiplatinum hitmaker, a fashion icon and the prototype for what an R&B star could look and sound like in the hip-hop era. But it wasn’t until her second album, 1994’s “My Life,” that the Blige most of us are familiar with — the heart-on-a-sleeve singer-songwriter unafraid to mine her own considerable trauma through music — truly began to take shape.
Tracing that album’s dark genesis, exploring its legacy with fans and featuring brief (perhaps too brief) performance clips from a pair of 2019 concerts Blige staged to celebrate its 25th anniversary, Vanessa Roth’s “Mary J. Blige’s My Life” has no shortage of cooperation from the subject herself (also an executive producer). But there’s a valedictory glossiness to the film that sometimes underserves the warts-and-all power of the work in question — as a fan-centric retrospective, it hits plenty of the right notes; but as a chance to more thoroughly explore a complicated, still-influential landmark, it never digs quite deeply enough.
Blige’s place in early ’90s pop culture was unique at the time, and only seems more so in retrospect. Eschewing the part of the starmaking process that had often seen female R&B singers airbrushed of their more distinctive attributes, Blige brought a thoroughly modern authenticity to her persona from the start, even if much of that initial image was styled by the very young A&R Sean “Diddy” Combs, who plucked her from record label purgatory and helped shepherd her into a very different type of star. But what was perhaps most remarkable about her early career was the quickness with which she began to take control of her own narrative on her sophomore release, writing her own lyrics and using her own life as source material.
Illustrated through vintage photographs and artful animated sequences, Roth takes us through Blige’s rocky journey to “My Life,” from her rough childhood in Yonkers’ Schlobohm housing project, where she remembers regularly witnessing violence against women, including her mother; to her oft-recounted first meeting with Uptown Records founder Andre Harrell on the strength of an Anita Baker cover she recorded in a mall; to her own disorienting ascent to multiplatinum stardom, which brought with it struggles with substance abuse, depression, and a toxic relationship with Jodeci star K-Ci. By the time she got around to making her second album, Blige was, as she says, “all fucked up,” and poured that desperation into her studio work. Roth’s camera catches Blige’s emotional reunions with “My Life” producer Chucky Thompson and collaborator Big Bub, who recall songwriting and recording dates that often functioned like therapy sessions.
But considering the distinctiveness of “My Life,” and the vast cast of principals assembled here, one can’t help but wish the film delved a little deeper into the actual process of making it. Footage from the studio is sparsely deployed, and plenty of questions are left unexplored. Was there pushback from the label or radio programmers when they heard the album? (Blige’s contemporaries in the rock world — from Kurt Cobain to Chris Cornell — had plenty of room to exorcise their personal demons through song, but that space wasn’t always so easily granted to Black artists, particularly female ones.) How hard did she have to fight to make it? How did she find her voice as a songwriter and lyricist, and how did “My Life” inform her future work, such as 2005's equally personal “The Breakthrough”? In one of the more arresting sequences of the film, Blige watches an old video of herself shutting down a tactlessly pushy TV interviewer from around the time of the album’s release, and notes of her young self, “I’m very protective of that girl.” Whether she means this as a message to the filmmakers is hard to say.
Throughout the film a cast of admirers and former collaborators — from Taraji P. Henson and Tyler Perry to Method Man and Alicia Keys — appear to sing Blige’s praises, as does the late Harrell, seen delivering a heartfelt birthday toast to his greatest discovery. But perhaps the most obvious testament to the album’s legacy here is seen in encounters with fans, several of whom don’t hesitate to tearfully tell Blige how her music saved their lives in the span of a seconds-long meet-and-greet. Blige doesn’t always appear to know exactly how to react, and that’s understandable. As purgative as making “My Life” may have been, and as humbling as this sort of appreciation must be, the toll of acting as a conduit for so much pain — not just her own, but also that of the legions of fans who see her as a kindred spirit — is surely considerable. As much as Blige can often appear to be an open vein of sincerity, she also seems to know exactly where to draw barriers, and that applies to this film as well. After all, it’s her life, not ours.
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