Marley, the new documentary on the life of reggae great Bob Marley, makes its US theatrical debut on April 20. Working with the blessing of the Marley family, director Kevin Macdonald worked hard to sculpt a balanced story of his subject’s life. In the process of showing Bob Marley to be flesh and blood, Macdonald manages to prove him worthy of his status as legend.
No special effects are needed to have Bob Marley’s story move you – the simple facts will do it.
Kevin Macdonald was kind enough to share a few minutes’ of time recently to discuss the making of Marley.
BR: After watching a review stream of Marley last night, I have two words for you, Kevin: “love” and “respect.” You used both of them so well in the making of this movie.
KM: (laughs) Thank you.
BR: But at the same time, you kept it real and showed Bob to be human.
KM: Well, that was the idea. We didn’t need another airbrushed celebrity portrait; the human behind the icon was the idea, really. Fortunately, I got the opportunity – with the cooperation of the family – to really create a human portrait of the man.
BR: It’s a great assortment of people you were able to talk to, from Bob’s childhood teacher Mrs. James to the nurse from Dr. Issels’ clinic in Germany where he spent his final months. I wondered in particular about Bunny Wailer, who has been portrayed over the years as being bitter … he’s a key voice – and a great voice – in your movie.
KM: Oh, I think there is a little bitterness there, but I think it’s very complex for Bunny you know. There’s an element where he’s feeling, “I was left behind” … but at the same time, they were basically brothers – they grew up together.
Bunny loved Bob. He’s very conflicted – but the love comes across.
It took months to get Bunny to agree to take part in the movie, but in the end I think he – and everyone else – realized our desire to do something that was complete … we wanted to make something that wasn’t just celebrity bullshit. And they felt it was a good thing to get involved with.
BR: And that’s a tribute to you – if you’d come across the wrong way to begin with, the doors would’ve been shut tight and nobody would’ve talked to you for love nor money.
KM: Oh, yeah. Some of them are not the easiest people to deal with, but … (laughs) I loved it in Jamaica, though. I’d move there now, actually. (laughter)
BR: I wondered about some of the on-site interviews you did at Nine Mile and Trench Town. I know it’s a different place than it was in the late 60s and 70s, but you tell me: I have this romantic notion of being able to walk the streets and hear all this cool music, but –
KM: Oh you can – you can. I mean, there are places where you don’t want to go that have a high murder rate –especially if you’re from the opposite gang (laughs). If you’re just a tourist hanging out, it’s unlikely that anything will happen to you if you’re extra careful to be in the right places.
Trench Town’s ghetto is still incredibly poor and has big gang violence problems, but they’ve actually started a Trench Town tourism thing. They got some money to rebuild the place where Bob and Bunny hung out there; the actual government yard where they hung out. Local people take turns in giving little tours around Trench Town.
It still helps to have a gang member with you: you pay some local don a little bit of money and he gives you a few foot soldiers to hang around you … you don’t have any trouble when you have the foot soldiers.
BR: Oh, man … (laughs) I’m guessing they don’t put those kind of helpful hints in the tourism books.
KM: Yeah … don’t put that in your article if you expect to get any advertising revenue from “Visit Jamaica”! (laughter)
BR: I hear you. I guess we’ll err on the side of keeping it real. (laughter) Anyway, I wanted to say that it tickled me at the end when the credits were rolling to see that Bunny was listed as an “associate producer.”
KM: I think that once Bunny realized what we were trying to do, he wanted to feel like he was part of the process in making the film. The problem in the past was the way the relationship between he and Bob and the rest of the Wailers has been misrepresented. Bunny wanted to be part of the film and we were happy to go along with that. We wanted the story to be told by the people still alive who knew Bob best.
BR: Do you remember the first time you were touched by Bob’s music?
KM: Yeah, I do – vividly. I bought Uprising in 1980 – it was, like, the third or fourth album I ever bought. I grew up in the countryside of Scotland – led a very sheltered youth, I suppose. The music not only tucked you in lyrically and melodically – there was also an air of danger about it; of rebellion; of anti-establishment about it.
It had this air of mystery, as well: “Jah? Rastafari?” You went, “What is this? What’s it about?” The music had this feel of righteousness; of rebelliousness; and yet also had a feeling of peace. I remember listening to Uprising and finding it endlessly exciting, intriguing, and mysterious.
BR: When were the first seeds planted for doing this documentary?
KM: Two things happened early on. First – seven years ago, I think it was – there was a big concert planned to celebrate Bob’s 60th birthday in Ethiopia. I spoke to Island Records’ Chris Blackwell that weekend concerning making a documentary about taking a bunch of Rastas – who had never been to Africa – on a plane from Jamaica to Ethiopia for the concert to celebrate what would have been Bob’s 60th birthday. And for various reasons that fell apart, but I stayed in touch with the Marley world.
After that, I made the film The Last King Of Scotland in Uganda and I was so struck by how many images of Bob there were: people with dreads; quotes from his lyrics up on the wall … I thought, “This is amazing – what other musician or artist has had this kind of impact?” You go to Indonesia and there are trucks with Bob’s image on the side; you go to India and people are singing Bob’s lyrics. They’ve never heard of The Beatles, but they’ve heard of Bob Marley.
That’s what’s amazing: he’s the only Third World superstar. I mean, he grew up in a shack, sleeping on the mud floor – he appealed to the people of poverty because he knew what they were going through … and he could give them some hope, tell them things were going to get better and be all right in the end. The oppressed would be on top one day. And that was a great message for people.
That only increased my interest in Bob and my wanting to understand him better myself.
After that, I received a call out of the blue from Steve Bing, a producer, wondering if I was interested in doing this documentary.
BR: I’m guessing he didn’t have to ask twice.
KM: No. (laughs)
BR: Was there any one conversation you had while you were doing the interviews for the film that blew you away – that opened up your understanding about who Bob Marley was?
KM: Yeah … I think the conversation with Bob’s white cousin – a member of Bob’s father’s family. Norval Marley was this mysterious figure who sired Bob when he was 55 years old. He was a bit of a ne’er-do-well; a bit of a philanderer that Bob never really knew. I talked to one of the cousins from that part of the family as well as Bob’s half-sister.
BR: Oh, yes! That’s when you dropped “Cornerstone” on them, which Bob had written about being rejected by his father. While they were listening to the song, I held my breath, thinking, “Oh man – he’s gone too far. How’s this going to hit them?”
KM: Yes – that was a bit worrying. But what Bob’s half-sister said was interesting: about the significance of the song, and what it meant in terms of what drove Bob. He, in fact, proved to the white family, “I can succeed; you’re going to be forgotten, but I’m going to do something.” I think that his father’s rejection was part of the reason he was so ambitious.
BR: I remember after the song ends, she says that Bob’s the Marley that’s remembered.
KM: It’s a beautiful moment – and it really opened things up for me.
BR: Was there music that you uncovered while putting this together that you hadn’t heard before? For instance, I’d never heard that gospel-style demo of “No Woman, No Cry”.
KM: A collector had that – a guy who was very generous and gave us that to use. It’s a beautiful version: Peter Tosh on the piano … it has a very gospelly feel to it. There are a number of things – a cappella version of “Kaya” … some of the live video footage – that even the most hardened collectors and fans have never seen before.
BR: The still shots from the clinic months, which include Bob’s birthday in February of ’81, were powerful. And I was surprised to see some film footage of Dr. Issels.
KM: That was actually from a documentary made about Dr. Issels at that time – totally unconnected with Bob. It turned out that there was footage of the doctor and of the nurse who was there towards the end of Bob’s life.
BR: After talking with the friends and family about Bob’s death – the whole scenario with the infected toe that he chose to ignore and the eventual cancer that spread throughout his body – did it make it easier to understand why it happened? Or did it make it harder?
KM: Well, you know, it’s still mysterious in a way. I think that at the time, all medical opinions were that Bob should have his toe removed. He didn’t want to do that – I think partly because he believed that as a Rasta he lived healthfully and it wasn’t necessary.
But even deeper than that, Bob loved two things in life: he loved football – soccer, as you would put it – and he loved dancing and performing and making his music. Those things were his life … and I believe he thought, “If they chop my toe off, I’ll lose those things.”
Bob then found a doctor who said, “Oh, no – you don’t need to remove your toe; you just need to have this skin graft.” And that was what Bob wanted to hear, of course – he ignored all the other medical opinions. And then he never went for any checkups, you know?
I suspect that towards the end, Bob knew he was ill; he knew he was dying and he just hid it from everyone.
I think Bob just made his mind up: “I just want to keep performing as long as I can, making my music, and spreading my message. And when God decides to strike me down, I’ll just have to say good-bye.”
