at the beginning of busters of soul, a new documentary about the Dallas band of the same name, in which pianist Chad Stockslager welcomes the crowd into Kessler, musicians line the stage in black suits and ties, and Mormons, if Mormons could seriously jam. Looks like a believer. He engages the audience in preparation for the frontman's arrival. “Duke Station of Alabama is the high priest of broken hearts,” Stockslager said. “The one and only Chadwick Murray!”
Murray was the dandy at the heart of a famous soul band, a bespectacled crooner in a sharp blue suit who could hit the high notes with just the right amount of shimmy. With a gentle demeanor off stage, he was a velvety beast in the spotlight, and his vocals carried the Bastards to the end. However, his 80-minute film tells a different story, one that depicts the band's demise rather than their rise to fame.
busters of soul It will make its Texas debut on April 27 as part of the 18th Dallas International Film Festival. The eight-day film extravaganza also includes world premieres of films. Dude Perfect: Very Long Shot“30 FOR 30,” ESPN Films’ documentary about the Frisco-based YouTube phenomenon; racing mr fahrenheitis a documentary that follows Dr. Pepper's former owner, Bobby Haas, during his later years on an adventure to break the world speed record on a hand-built motorcycle. busters of soul It's sure to resonate with local music buffs who saw this clever costume ride the wave created by Fort Worth's Leon Bridges only to fall apart in tragedy.
“I thought this was going to be a short film,” says director Paul Levatino, who is active in the local music scene and has worked with Erykah Badu for 10 years. He knew Murray from Lake Highlands High School, where Levatino graduated in 1994, and filmed the Kessler Live Show, a band that everyone thought would be promoted somewhere in the future. did.
When they burst onto the scene a few years ago, Bastards of Soul were something of a Dallas supergroup. Guitarist Chris Holt was about to start a tour with Don Henley. Bassist Danny Barris was building an impressive solo career after spending decades in rock bands like the Sparrows and Solta. Stockslager has tickled the ivories of countless bands. Murray was not the obvious choice to lead the team. Although he has been a bassist for many years, he was a more reserved support player. But one night, as the guys were hanging out at a bar, Murray started singing along to something on the jukebox.
“We were like, Really? '' Holt recalled, rolling her eyes at the camera. They had a band. However, Murray still had to battle his nerves to take center stage, and the act was so terrifying that on the eve of his debut, not knowing how to get out of it, Murray laid his head on his mother's lap. He explained in an interview that he had kept it there. Instead, he blew everyone away.
The band signed with Dallas-based Eastwood Music Group and released their first album, which received positive reviews. SpinninThis allowed us to make breakthroughs with more ambitious follow-up. But the pandemic hit in March 2020, and a long 17 months passed before the band gathered together in Argyle's Echo Lab studio with producer and radio personality Jeff “Skin” Wade. His first hour or so of the documentary captures an intimate session in which a bunch of pandemic-bearded musicians make money thanks to experimentation and a little whiskey.
Murray was about to become a father. “Everything is happening at the same time,” he tells the camera. However, due to a rare autoimmune disease, he was hospitalized shortly after the session. Although it wasn't COVID-19, protocols still restricted visitors.
“I've never seen a group of doctors and nurses so angry,” Murray's friend and local music veteran Max Hartman said in the film. They couldn't save him. Murray, 45, died in September 2021, shortly after his son Lennox Chadwick Murray was born at the same hospital.
Levatino's “short videos” then took on new importance as Wade encouraged him to develop a larger project. “It felt daunting,” Levatino told me over the phone recently. He had already enlisted the talented cinematographer duo of Jeremy Ward and Zach Zoltzklis, who shot with Blackmagic cameras and produced footage that is surprisingly rich and cinematic considering the scope of the original project. was gotten. But making a feature film about his recently deceased friend was a challenge Levatino didn't expect. So who was ready to try it?
he needed money. So Levatino turned to Poo-Pourri creator Susie Battis, another Dallas powerhouse she had worked with, and a documentary about Murray began to be produced. “I fought it at first,” Levatino said, but eventually “it started speaking for itself.”
In the film, we meet Murray's widow, Hannah, a kind-faced brunette who shares happy memories and sometimes fights back tears. We met toddler Lennox, who had a smile like her father's. There's no easy solution here. Life just goes on, and if you're lucky, art will figure it out.
Levatino had planned to name the film after the band's song “It's Gonna Be Alright.” Battis suggested something more direct. She told him that the band's name was genius.
busters of soul The film had its world premiere last month at the Sun Valley Film Festival in Idaho, where celebrities rubbed elbows with investors in the ski resort town. Levatino was introduced to beloved New York actor Bobby Cannavale. He noticed the documentary's bold name on the festival lineup. He told Levatino, “That's one movie I want to see!”
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“Bastards of Soul” will make its Texas premiere at the Texas Theater on April 27 at 7 p.m. A Q&A with the filmmakers follows. For more information, visit dallasfilm.org.
Correction, April 24, 2024, 2:55 p.m.: A previous version of this story misspelled director Jeremy Ward's last name. busters of soul.
