As "Little Richard: I Am Everything" (2023 release; 101 min.) opens, we heard from various talking heads. One of them sums it up like this: "He spit on every rule there ever was in music". "He" of course being Little Richard. We then go back in time to the early 1930s in Macon, Georgia. It might as well be the 1830s, that is how remote Macon was from everything. In that backwards, if not openly racist, midst, Little Richard was finding his way... At this point we are 10 minutes into the documentary.

Couple of comments: this is the latest documentary from Black director Lisa Cortes ("All In: The Fight For Democracy"). Here she reassesses the life and times of a rock icon who never truly received what he deserved, either critically or commercially. But that didn't stop him from pushing on. This is a rousing documentary from start to finish. Little Richard knew all too well what was going on. Or as he puts it towards the end of this enjoyable documentary: "We built the highway and they they still driving it and not paying toll".

"Little Richard: I Am Everything" was released earlier this year, to immediate acclaim. It is now playing on HBO and streaming on Max, where I saw it the other night. There is good reason why this movie is currently rated 98% Certified Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, and I fully expect it will get a Best Documentary Oscar nomination in early 2024. If you have any interest in Little Richard or the history of rock and roll, I'd readily suggest you check this out, and draw your own conclusion.

Perhaps we could just agree that it's silly to coronate anyone the "king of rock and roll." It's clear from this documentary that Little Richard often felt overlooked, despite his crucial contribution to rock and pop music in the middle of the 20th century. Let's give him the due he deserves. He is the originator, the architect, and the emancipator (whatever that means). He was also a bit of a one trick pony. The man basically gave us a handful of rock 101's greatest songs and then spent the rest of his life milking them. And the funny thing about that is, if the documentary is to be believed, he barely got any money for that. If you look at music from the mid-60s on, it's just a rehash of old hits and uninspired covers. No genius albums. No incredible tours. No inspiring collaboration.

Placing him in the same league as the Beatles and the Stones is just silly. The man never outgrew his pride (hence the documentary's title) and his career suffered for it. Sad to say, the best song he released in the final 50 years of his life was the theme song to "The Magic School Bus." I'm actually surprised that didn't make it in the documentary.