Soundtrack to a Coup d'Etat

It's a documentary on the birth of the Republic of Congo and the assassination of its first prime minister, Patrice Lumumba. The approach incorporates much film footage from about 1950 to the early 1960s, juxtaposing the music and comments of leading jazz musicians of the era with contemporary news footage. Particular emphasis is placed on the various political machinations at the United Nations by Nikita Khrushchev, Dwight Eisenhower, Adlai Stevenson, and other world leaders, including Fidel Castro and Malcolm X.

At some levels, "Soundtrack to a Coup d'Etat" is an intelligent and brilliant work with an incredible musical score. However, it takes too long to make the fundamental connection between the American jazz musicians and Patrice Lumumba. When it finally does, it's highly effective, but a half hour could easily have been edited from the final production.

This documentary is a serious testament to the archivist's art as it pieces together an impressive array of imagery of the great and the good of American Jazz and combines that with some intimate actuality of the turbulence ongoing in the Congo as it strived for independence. Why might anyone care about the future of an impoverished African nation that had all but bankrupted it's "owner" - King Leopold II of Belgium? Well that's because it holds enormous deposits of the uranium required by both the West and the Soviets - and that's just the start of it's reputedly $23 trillion worth of mineral assets. Emerging from the populace to lead this new country is Patrice Lumumba. He's an articulate man who unlike so many who took their nations out of colonial-hood, is not constantly bedecked in medals and ribbons with armed men at his back. What we see over the next couple of hours uses a superb musical soundtrack from the likes of Nina Simone, Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis - you name it, to provide a backdrop to CIA shenanigans, petulant strops from Nikita Khruschev, accusatory comments from just about everyone from Malcolm X to Fidel Castro and some extremely cynical insights into the Eisenhower presidency's approach to this man; to the problems he may bring or solve and to the precedents he was bound to set. As you'll expect, this freedom fight is tied-in closely with the fight for desegregation and equal/human rights for African American people and it uses that platform to illustrate just how ineffective the US-dominated United Nations was at brokering anything akin to a peaceable solution that was in anyway neutral or beneficial to the populace of this vast territory. The secession of Katanga - where the mining was at it's more lucrative and the privatisation of it's principal enterprise ensured that the West still pulled the strings, sets the tone for the final phase of the history and it's tragic conclusion. I knew some of this but I wasn't aware of just how exploitatively the American administration used unwitting people, many globally recognised household hames and who were still treated as second-class citizens (if citizens at all) at home, to peddle a political message of brotherhood and unity in Africa and at just how effective these deceptions were whilst the CIA experimented with new ways of assassinating. There's an arrogance here that's writ large as the local population are treated with a casual disdain that makes your flesh crawl. Fans of jazz will love the accompaniment which mixes some characterful performances of the more famous pieces of music from the genre with some more specifically written and delivered themes that directly address the issues of slavery, exploitation and freedom that led to a protest within the impotent General Assembly chamber itself. It is curious that many of the criticisms levelled at the UN in the mid 1960s are just as valid today, and that little progress as been made changing the format that was established by world powers in the 1940s whose "permanent" roles embedded in the political infrastructure remain unaffected sixty years later. This isn't a film about corporate greed, it's one about political influence and domination and has been thoughtfully put together to open a hornet's nest. Did you know that Dizzy Gillespie actually ran for US President?

What do jazz and a Coup d'Etat in Central Africa have in common? This documentary by Belgian filmmaker Johan Grimonprez uses a wide selection of historic footage to tell the story, spy thriller style. From American jazz greats such as Louis Armstrong and Nina Simone performing in Africa as good-will ambassadors, to on-the-ground scenes in the Congo as a Coup dÉtat brewed, powerful images fill the screen in rapid sequence. The narrative moves fast for 2 hours and 30 minutes, fusing music, sound, images and graphics to create a new kind of film. Although scenes were shot over half a century ago, the film feels fresh, urgent and contemporary.

This is not a "casual watching" kind of movie. I am glad I watched at home, because I had to stop and rewind a few times. At the end of the intense 150 minutes, one feels they experienced an immersion into a period of history through contemporary eyes, a rewarding dive. Brilliantly researched and edited, a Sundance Cinematic Innovation award recipient and Oscar nominee for Best Documentary, this film moves like jazz.

This smart, sophisticated documentary traces the improbably rise to power and eventual CIA-led assassination of Patrice Lumumba, the first prime minister of the Democratic Republic of Congo, who was elected in May 1960, shortly before his country gained its independence from Belgium. Congo, a country rich with natural resources that were vital, among other things, to Western countries' weapons of war, had been colonized by Belgium since the late 19th century. This sad tale is the sadly predictable part of the story. Grimonprez puts these events in the context of the U. S. own black empowerment movement. Perhaps as sad as the political aspects, the way the US government uses and discards black artists is also sad. The film is patched together with the style and rhythm of bebop jazz artists interspersed throughout the documentary. The film is generally an entertaining and effective direction of colonialism. But it does have flaws. It's too long, apparently paired down from an even longer film. And while the film is right to include Khrushchev and Castro because they attracted both African leaders and African American's inligenciA. But the failure to put these figures without even hinting at their own hypocrisy undercuts the moral weight of the film. Yet the film is still well worth watching for its wide-ranging take on Western colonialism and innovative structure.

Whereas a documentary of this caliber on the direct-to-streaming aisle would incorporate your basic interviews and archival footage with little to no forethought, Soundtrack to a Coup d'État is a rallying cry within a musical odyssey. Hyperfast editing and a symphonic pace make this visual essay so special, resembling jazz's rigid but unforgettable structure. Vastly covering the Congo's struggle for independence (with jazz giants being the preface)- the inherent timeliness to today's genocidal crimes reflects a period not too astray from ours.

At times it may seem like the gargantuan presence of information overwhelms the viewer into submission, but rest assured the film continues its tapestry of bedazzlement all the way through. This is how historical documentaries should be made. Lessons will be learned, techniques will be seen. Enthralling from beginning to end, Soundtrack to a Coup d'État must not be missed. A charming, distinctive gateway for those yearning to learn more about deep-seated neocolonialism.