The Defiant Ones, Allen Hughes’ documentary on the biggest players in American rock and hip-hop from the late 1970s to the present day, is to be cherished.
With a pugnacious, reedy New York whittle reminiscent of Ralph Cifaretto and the shadowed eyes of a man who hasn’t taken a wink of sleep in 34 years, Jimmy Iovine makes for a compelling focal point to The Defiant Ones.
Iovine is a force of nature who built his livelihood on – among other things – launching the careers of now legendary artists by reworking the discarded demos of better established acts.
Patti Smith’s ‘Because The Night’ originated with Iovine’s close friend and collaborator Bruce Springsteen, while Stevie Nicks’ solo career could well have hit the skids were it not for the use of Tom Petty’s ‘Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around’ on the Bella Donna LP.
Given Iovine’s obvious ear for a melody (and a hit) and tireless work ethic, he was being pursued as the must-have music producer of the 1970s and ’80s. He was looking for ‘singer songwriters with a power sound,’ the kind of emotive bombast that so defined the U2 of the 1980s; Iovine produced the Dublin quartet’s Rattle and Hum, a massive commercial success despite lukewarm reviews.
If Iovine (pronounced Eye-oh-veen) is forced to scrap, and scrap, and use every bit of his tough Brooklyn upbringing to produce for the biggest names in rock history, it’s only when he moves on to the commercial side of the music business – co-founding Interscope Records – that you truly understand the kinship felt between the now 65-year-old and his chosen spirit animal; he’s a grizzly bear in a (hipster) mogul’s clothing, restless in his pursuit of his next project.
‘Humble yet braggadocious’
He is not a force to be fucked with, and neither is Dr. Dre, Iovine’s business partner and – even more so than Iovine – the heart of The Defiant Ones.
Evasive yet revelatory, humble yet braggadocious, Dre ducks and weaves through his back story with the care, precision and articulation of a heavyweight champion.
If you loved the superb Straight Outta Compton – Dre is filmed visiting the set here – this proves a superior companion piece in the story of NWA, of Death Row, the origins of Snoop and Tupac and the ultimately tragic Eazy-E, of in-fighting with Ice Cube, Dre’s insecurities behind the mic (as against the mixing board), of a firecracker sequence detailing the Compton native’s first meeting with Eminem (“I’m pissing myself right… now…”) and a five-month stay for drunken driving.
Hughes keeps proceedings moving at a brisk pace; if he takes things into overdrive once or twice too often – one sequence detailing Interscope’s dealings with Trent Reznor and Marilyn Manson could do with drawing a breath, for instance – the documentary never feels rushed and benefits from its four-hour running time.
Plenty of time is spent with a higher calibre of talking head than E4 (or even BBC4) aficionados might be used to. From the late Petty through to Kendrick Lamar, from Gwen Stefani to the laconic Snoop, from Nicks to Bono through to David Geffen and the wonderfully dry Bruce Springsteen, this is no third party approximation of what may or may not have happened.
On the contrary, you feel like you’re in the room, and that’s ultimately the great success of The Defiant Ones.
‘The personal gets lost’
If there’s a criticism, and it’s more the fault of history than the filmmakers, it’s in the lack of drama between Iovine and Dre.
Drawn together from the ashes of Death Row and going on to forge a successful business relationship and close friendship, there’s a tinge of regret for the viewer that the fruits of their collaboration are not musical but, rather, technological.
They may have turned Beats and Apple Music into behemoths of the entertainment world, hustling and harrying their way to the billionaire’s club on the way, but all relatability is lost in the final episode as Dre counts his successes and failures while showing us his brand new Brentwood mansion and yet another oceanside balcony lament, his fire set to a mere flicker.
We don’t doubt Dre’s authenticity in nailing down the perfect sound, the perfect speaker, the perfect headphone, but the personal gets lost.
The story of Iovine and Dre as a partnership lacks punch, coming off as a sort of This Is Your Life for Hollywood heavyweights, but this is churlish given the quality of what has gone before.
It doesn’t dampen The Defiant Ones’ near-perfect retelling of two seminal careers, and their impact on our culture.
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