Writer-producer Ridley (Everybody Smokes in Hell, 1999, etc.) takes a somber look at the life of an African-American comedian in a country not quite ready for him.
Ridley has also done stand-up, so even though there are no laughs in this wise, restrained, and thoroughly detailed story of an almost-made-it, the backstage feel is authentic. Jackie Mann is the son of a domestic whose death, in the midst of the Depression, leaves him in the care of a defeated, addicted, and brutal father in Harlem. Jackie is no athlete and no tough guy, needing the protection of his friend Li’l Mo just to survive on the playground, but early on he discovers the power of humor to get himself out of situations and even to be admired. That ability proves useful when he and Li’l Mo hire on as lumberjacks in Washington State for a summer, where they’re surrounded by scary rednecks and where he has his first taste of an audience in an amateur show. Skipping college, which he couldn’t have afforded anyway, with no connections and only a modicum of nerve, Jackie sets out as a comedian, trying out material on a few postmidnight customers at a 14th Street burlesque house. There, he also befriends Fran Kligman, an aspiring singer, and hooks up with Sid Kindler, a small-time agent who believes Jackie has the stuff for a career. He also has his first sight of the love of his life, the beautiful young singer who will go on to become the Motown star Tammi Terrell. Tammi is only one of Mann’s real-life characters—Frank Sinatra, Vic Damone, Mort Sahl, and especially Sammy Davis Jr. all have roles, and Jackie Mann’s determination to appear on the Ed Sullivan further places the story squarely in its time. Jackie almost makes it to the top, but it’s a cruel trip that costs far too much.
Bleak and believable.