Randy Rhoads fans have been pining for a documentary for decades. Long-standing rumors of amazing footage locked away in Sharon Osbourne’s vault fueled the fire as his legend grew while the remnants of his short-lived career remained limited to a couple of studio records and a live album with Ozzy Osbourne, some (amazing) TV footage, and two import albums from his first real band – Quiet Riot. There’s a couple of camcorder YouTube clips out there, but nothing official, in-depth, or of real quality as far as concert footage. 

In 2014, lone original (key lineup) Quiet Riot member drummer Frankie Banali (RIP), along with his wife Regina, released a documentary about the band that certainly covered the early years, but focused extensively on the death of polarizing front man Kevin Dubrow and the fiasco of rotating members that followed their glory days in the early 80’s. Randy Rhoads: Reflections of a Guitar Icon takes those early years to the next level with some great footage of the band and the guitarist as they tried desperately (and unsuccessfully) to land a record deal, while watching peers Van Halen get signed and elevate to superstar status. The film has a more professional air than the Banali film, and you’re left with a feeling of what those years were really like for Randy and the band. Tracii Guns (LA Guns) narrates effectively, and no stone seems left unturned up to Randy’s audition for Ozzy and exit from QR.

While time is also spent on Randy’s upbringing and personal life, and there is worthwhile participation from the likes of Randy’s family, girlfriend, and some surviving QR bandmates, what people are really hoping for is an inside look at what the Ozzy years were really like. Unfortunately, we only get a little glimpse into that era, with a couple moments of never before seen studio footage, some previously seen, grainy fan-shot live footage, and barely a note of actual Ozzy/Randy music to be heard. It’s really hard to tell the story of an iconic figure without the participation of those who were closest and most pivotal, and while the effort and production value is there, the later portion of the film just leaves a bit of emptiness. Of special note were actual newsreels and film of the aftermath of the plane crash, but as the credits roll, you’re just dying to see some pro-shot footage of Randy on stage playing the solo for “Over the Mountain.”

I’d recommend the film for fans of Randy Rhoads and Quiet Riot. It’s a must see for those folks, at least, mostly because there’s just so little out there. It’s well made, and the story is well told, but I’m sorry to say it’s not the mother lode of the Ozzy-era we’ve been hoping for.

Far removed from the heavy metal world of Randy Rhoads is Sheryl – the Showtime documentary about Sheryl Crow. I’ve been a fan since the early albums, despite some occasional ribbing from my friends. I’ll admit, I didn’t really fly the flag proudly, even though I bought the CDs and cranked them in my tan Chevy Cavalier sedan on the way to punk rock band practice in downriver Detroit. “My Favorite Mistake” is a masterpiece of a song and sealed the deal for me, and “Strong Enough” is right up there.

This film checks all the boxes – participation from the artist, endless footage from every stage of her career, insight into her professional, creative, personal, and family lives, plenty of A-list peer analysis, and emotional responses to controversy and struggles. Director Amy Scott does a fantastic job juggling a sequential timeline with occasional side journeys into other areas, avoiding the pedestrian format of so many rock docs.

Of particular interest, and handled exceptionally, were Shery’s battles with depression and the representation of her endless determination and work ethic. Celebrity watchers might find the Lance Armstrong romance or Michael Jackson tour and stories interesting, but the real meat of the story is about her undying desire to be make great music and to put it out there as honestly as she can. Keith Richards provides a couple great quotes about her character (“She doesn’t take any shit from Mick Jagger!”), Jason Isbell and Brandi Carlile provide some good insight from the perspective of the younger generation of songwriters, and her parents, manager, producers, and other friends (like Laura Dern and Emmylou Harris) fill in the rest.

The movie doesn’t shy away from tragedy and controversy (though they don’t touch the Eric Clapton/”My Favorite Mistake” rumors). Her public rise to stardom while her partying gang of musician friends The Tuesday Night Club are left in the dust is addressed, the suicide of author John O’Brien after his book inspired her hit “Leaving Las Vegas” evokes some real tears, and her battle with breast cancer is a more recent topic. It’s a great balance of music and life, imperfection and luck, an incredible drive to succeed, and great talent. 

Sheryl is one of those documentaries that fans of music docs should watch even if they aren’t fans of the artist. It’s probably the best I’ve seen since the Suzi Quatro film (and man, I’ve seen a few). There were moments I actually got a bit choked up watching performance footage and interviews. You can’t ask for more. Now excuse me while I put The Globe Sessions on, dim the lights, sit back, and take it in.  

Jeremy Porter lives near Detroit and fronts the rock and roll band Jeremy Porter And The Tucos. Follow them on Facebook to read his road blog about their adventures on the dive-bar circuit.
www.thetucos.com
www.facebook.com/jeremyportermusic
www.rockandrollrestrooms.com
Twitter: @jeremyportermi | Instagram: @onetogive & @jeremyportermusic