Think of American music and names like Chuck Berry, McKinley Morganfield, a.k.a. Muddy Waters, and Etta James come to mind.
But what about Lejzor Czyz?
You’ll be forgiven if his name does not strike a chord of recognition.
Czyz, a Polish Jew who immigrated to the United States in 1928 to join his family in Chicago, later changed his name to Leonard Chess.
As Leonard Chess, he and his brother, Philip, founded Aristocrat Records, which was subsequently known as Chess Records.
Their company nurtured African-American singers and promoted cutting-edge rhythm and blues and rock ’n’ roll recordings that influenced, among others, Elvis Presley, Eric Clapton, the Beatles, the Beach Boys and the Rolling Stones.
Darnel Martin’s biopic of Leonard Chess, Cadillac Records, is scheduled to open in Toronto on Friday, Feb. 20, at the Bloor Cinema. It is presented by the Bloor Cinema and the Toronto Jewish Film Festival.
Set in the late 1940s and ’50s, Cadillac Records stars Adrien Brody as Chess, Jeffrey Wright as Waters, Mos Def as Berry and Beyoncé Knowles as James.
The movie, nearly two hours in length, is essentially a tribute to these musical innovators rather than a portrait of Chess.
Chess is depicted as a savvy businessman who happened to be an astute connoisseur of black music. Oddly enough, Chess’ brother is completely omitted from the script.
The film, which unfolds against the backdrop of a society still in the thrall of segregation, begins as Chess, then a struggling junkyard dealer, promises his girlfriend’s gruff father that he will be a success one day.
The scene shifts to the Macomba Lounge, a nightclub run by the Chess brothers. The smoke-filled, disreputable club becomes a venue for new but talented entertainers.
Chess, who has an eye for up-and-coming talent, spots Waters, a hard-living womanizer from the cotton fields of Mississippi. As the Chess record label catches fire, he recruits still more clients.
Thanks to Waters and Berry, the Chess label moves beyond the strict confines of “race records” and crosses over into the profitable mainstream market.
As a token of appreciation for their efforts, Chess gives each of his stars a Cadillac car, the ultimate American status symbol.
Chess himself, an immigrant who makes good, drives a blue Caddy.
Cadillac Records is in top form when the legendary songs of love and loss and hope and despair fill the screen with their power and poignancy. Otherwise, it tends to be a rather pedestrian film.
Beyoncé, portraying the difficult, drug-addled daughter of a prostitute, is magnetic and electrifying. The songs she belts out leave a viewer in awe.
By comparison, Brody seems pale and ineffective. Wright and Def, however, deliver credible, even stirring performances.
In short, Cadillac Records pays homage not only to Chess but to the pantheon of black performers who revolutionized popular music in America.