Keep On Keeping On
KOKO, directed, written and executive-produced by Alan Hicks, is a charming, intimate and occasionally touching documentary on the iconic jazz great, Clark Terry -- "CT" to his friends -- and his brilliant upcoming protégé, Justin Kauflin, a blind man of 26 with an instinctual feel for the music of his idolized mentor.
Over the 4 years of the film's etiology, the two grow close, and become first colleagues, then dear friends. CT's wife Gwen is seen as lovingly supportive in the best way, a corrective to many who doubt the possibility of loving symbiosis of a spouse. Quincy Jones, producer of the film, some 10 years younger than nonagenarian CT, who has worked for over 70 years in the field, "with over 1,000 songs to his credit," is a decades-long musician chum of CT's, and plays a huge part in the proceedings, falling into delighted agreement with his bedridden friend about the musical accomplishment of the modest, earnest, dedicated 'student,' as Justin blossoms in confidence and felicitous playing.
A multi-time recipient of prestigious music awards, winner of 2010's Grammy for Lifetime Achievement in Jazz, Clark Terry has worked with a Who's Who of world-class greats: Thelonious Monk, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy, Dinah Washington, Aretha Franklin, Charlie Barnet, Doc Severinsen, Ray Charles, Dexter Gordon, Billie Holiday, Gerry Mulligan, Sarah Vaughan, Coleman Hawkins, Zoot Sims and Oscar Peterson. Without going into explanations of how and wherefore, the film monitors the health challenges of Clark Terry as his aged body fails to respond to some of the medical modalities tried. We see and hear his optimism, despite his failing body. Justin, a counterpart in cheer despite being blind from the age of 12, wins our admiration and respect as he picks up the rhythms of songs barely hummed by CT, and runs with the jazz riffs that eventually get "Q," Quincy Jones, to sign him as pianist on a world tour and at various world music festivals. We see Justin's attractive mother being fully supportive, too, in bringing him along and encouraging his efforts in competitions and composing on the fly. Physically, Justin bears a striking resemblance to the young Anthony Perkins.
The film traces the several years from 2010 to the present, and mercifully ends on an upward note--not with the dour postscripts of many such films in the genre. At 86 minutes, the subject is treated in depth, without maudlin excess. At the end, CT may still be bedridden, but he continues in optimistic amiability to work with young talent and mentors them to professional excellence. Quincy Jones, much thickened from his earlier self 30 years ago, perhaps, proves a solid friend and a keen eye for talent.
It is a purely music documentary. Politics never obtrudes. Exterior gossip has no place in the proceedings. You get to spend an hour and a half with some greats in the American jazz scene, and hear some terrific music from Terry's past and Jones'/Justin's present. There is endearing male friendship demonstrated, an absence of rancor, bad feeling, nasty language or intrusive issues. We struggle along with the musical greats.