While the film can get a little jumbled and confusing at times, this
"brand new bag" of a biopic is coursing with energy thanks to an
electric, rousing performance by Boseman that simply must be seen. Right from
the start we get a sense of the film's rather flippant attitude towards Brown's
life and career, as a bathroom toilet, loaded rifle, and flashing police sirens
lead to one of his worst moments. This was 1988, and truly it was the time when
Brown was at his lowest ebb. It's a weird place to start a film that is essentially
about his rise to fame, but it all serves a purpose when the particulars of
Brown's harsh upbringing surface. Born in a hovel in the heart of the Jim Crow
south to an abusive father (Lennie James) and neglectful mother (Viola Davis),
Brown's childhood was nothing but hardship. Run-ins with the law, a stint
living in his aunt's (Octavia Spencer) brothel, and brutal racism built up a
thick skin so that when life punched him in the gut Brown never flinched. Even
later when he and the band are flying into Vietnam and their plane is shelled
by artillery fire, Brown takes it in stride while the others are freaking out.
Just as "the funk" he and his talented band of musicians (the
great Maceo Parker was part of the band, played here by Craig Robinson) created
defied musical conventions and rhythms, Brown was equally hard to pin down. He
could be a tyrannical slave-driver, an unabashed perfectionist, and more than a
little paranoid towards his longtime best friend and right-hand man Bobby Byrd
(Nelsan Ellis of True Blood fame), but he's also the same guy who
insisted on performing days after the death of Martin Luther King in hopes of
preventing a riot. Women seem to flit in and out of his life with little
rhyme or reason, with the echoes of past abuse reflecting in his attitude
towards relationships. You sometimes wish Taylor and screenwriters Jez and
John-Henry Butterworth had spent more time with the ugly stuff; the drugs and
domestic violence. But they keep it just on the margins to not upset the PG-13 apple
cart, allowing Boseman to hint at us with a knowing smile or regretful glance
the inner-workings of Brown's mind. Always more than just an entertainer, Brown
was a shrewd businessman who skirted a racist system by cutting out the middle
man and promoting his own shows, with the help of friend and mentor Ben
"Pops" Bart, played wonderfully by Dan Akroyd. 
Boseman was so good as Jackie Robinson that to say his performance is
revelatory wouldn't quite be true, but its confirmation that we are in the presence
of a special talent. While he seems a little uncomfortable in the early
passages of the film, Boseman settles into Brown's skin utterly and completely
soon after, capturing the man's complexity and live-wire spirit all the way
down to his creaky, sometimes unintelligible southern twang. On the stage floor
he's nothing short of remarkable, performing Brown's signature gliding maneuvers
as perfectly as the man himself would have demanded. While Boseman mostly sings
over top of Brown's recorded vocals each performance crackles as if you were
watching a live show. Mick Jagger serves as exec-producer and no doubt had
special input on one moment when an upstart Rolling Stones are upstaged by a
pissed off Brown. While Boseman is incredible, the other transcendent turn
comes from Ellis, who takes a familiar role and turns it into something special
and sympathetic. Byrd stood by Brown's side when nobody else would, even though
it meant giving up his own dreams of stardom. Their rocky friendship is the
heart and soul of a film that is full to overflowing with both.Get On Up may not be the most comprehensive biography, but as it breaks every single rule in the genre's rulebook it's a fitting James Brown tribute.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
