Maestro is a fascinating mess of a film, one that tries to encapsulate the heady freedom and joyful excesses of the early decades of the New York club experience. Unfortunately, it is fairly unfocused and amateurishly put-together. In some instances, this helps make the experience more raw and exciting, but for the most part, it proves distracting. Interview footage ranges from serviceable to unwatchable, depending both on film/video gauge and light. There's gold in what many of the subjects have to say, but the way in which they are filmed is often unacceptable for a commercially-released film. Also, there is no excuse for spelling errors in onscreen chyrons. Even more frustrating is the way that there is no real focus to be found. The film starts with the Paradise Garage and Larry Levan, then backtracks a little bit to include David Mancuso and The Loft, then grows to encompass The Gallery, and then here comes DJ progenitor Francis
Grasso (filmed just before his death).
Ostensibly, Maestro is about the early days of club and DJ culture and the shaping effect that those cultures wielded on their crowds, which is an intriguingly humanist (if thematically nebulous) approach. But as with any documentary, primary sources are what make the grade, and this has scads of amazing footage- taking the viewer inside The Paradise Garage and The Loft, showing firsthand footage of Levan and his contemporaries François K and Frankie Knuckles throwing down in clubs, even some footage of Keith Haring giving into the groove. This is what makes the film special and required viewing for anyone interested in the bond between DJ and crowd.
And then there's the music. The Maestro team, whatever the faults of the film, knows their music, and the stuff they serve up to the viewer is flawless. Thanks to this film (and its exquisite soundtrack album – review on that coming a little later), several records that flourished in the hands of the first generation of DJs are reborn- and the simple fact of the matter is that a good record really is eternal. If the whole film were up to the standards of its music, Maestro would be a
must-see classic. As it is, it is worth your time and attention.
The DVD that Sanctuary Media has put together is exceptional, putting the film (with two different 5.1 sound mixes) on the first disc and stuffing the second disc with all sorts of fun extras and extended interviews. This does help slake the sting of the awkwardness of the film, and anyone who wants a sloppy cross-section of the heart and soul of dance music should feel free to check this out.
