It’s a gutsy move to make a film like Cadillac Records. On the one hand, movies about American music and the elder statesmen of artists who created it have been done many times before. On the other hand, chronicling the rise of Chess Records and the who’s-who of blues artists that filled its roster in the 50s and 60s isn’t exactly a story tailor-made for marketing to mainstream movie-going audiences. This isn’t to say that Cadillac doesn’t make a valiant effort despite this restraint, it’s just that the film ultimately feels as though something is missing because of it.
 
On the surface, everything’s in place. Writer/Director Darnell Martin centres the story on the relationship between the celebrated and influential, Muddy Waters (played by the always underrated Jeffrey Wright) and his hot-headed, self-destructive protégé Little Walters, in a fantastic turn by actor Columbus Short. Adrien Brody is Chess Leonard, the Jewish head honcho behind the label who has a habit of dolling out the Cadillacs, but keeping a tight grip on the royalty money; Eamon Walker is perfectly cast as label mate and Waters rival, Howlin’ Wolf; and Mos Def puts in an entertaining performance as a quirky Chuck Berry who despite his rise ultimately falls victim to his greatest weakness: white women.
 
Then there’s Beyonce Knowles, who much of the hype surrounding the film has been centered on. While she does her best to convey the inner turmoil and vice-addled lifestyle of the legendary Etta James, it’s hard to believe her outside of the flashy pop diva persona she’s spent the last decade perfecting. To her credit, she’s at her best when portraying anger and frustration, as in the scene where James has a devastating meeting with her estranged father. But, it takes a lot more than a broken down walk, a few cuss words and garish makeup to emote the years of pain James lived through which Knowles is still too young and inexperienced to embody.
 
Meanwhile, the filmed is rounded out with major historical benchmarks (payola is the only way to get “race music” on the airwaves, white artists blatantly steal music without credit, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones land in America and the civil rights movement is finally born). In the end, it almost seems as if Cadillac cast it’s net a little too wide--the breadth of the overall story is too great to cover in two hours; and the individual stories are too multifaceted to receive the attention they deserve. It’s a great flick to be sure, but it's somewhat hindered by the depth of the legacy it’s trying to bring to life.