Review of Louie Bluie (1985) by Kevin N — 09 Mar 2012

Terry Zwigoff's debut film is a brief hour in length, but it's the kind of absorbing documentary that I could have gone on watching for five or six. Yet perhaps it is the film's short running time that makes it so special, so interesting.

Zwigoff gives us an hour of time with the titular Louie Bluie, or more formally Howard Armstrong- one of the most interesting musicians ever committed to celluloid. Here he is nearing the end of his life, yet he shows no signs of stopping his art.

Alongside playing fast, hard and soulful blues music, he is also a drawer and poet, and part of the brilliance of Zwigoff's hand is that he intertwines these talents. In one of the best moments of the film, Bluie shows a fellow musician a piece of art that looks as though it probably took years to compile.

He calls it the ABC's of Pornography, and it is a book containing pages devoted to prose, photos and drawings that make sex both poetic and obscene. I think that book is probably one of the most personal things Bluie ever did, as it seems to mirror his personality; as the film progresses, we get to see two sides of the man- one is sweet, thoughtful and passionate and the other is crass and dirty.

It's a fascinating combination. Besides being about such an interesting subject, the film also contains some mesmerizing musical sequences (thanks to said subject), and these moments, which feature Bluie and pals collaborating on sporadic tunes in their home or on the street, are so raw and unique.

It doesn't matter if you like the blues or not; if you're interested in people, this is a must-see movie.