By Alex Wilgus One might think that Jon Siskel and Greg Jacobs’ new documentary Louder Than a Bomb is just another entry into what has become a familiar genre of kid-centric documentaries. One would be wrong. Ever since Spellbound was released in 2002, all sorts of children’s competitions from spelling bees to ballroom dancing have been documented in much the same way: heighten the stakes of the competition by filming a handful of contestants and focusing on how winning the competition will improve each protagonists’ quality of life. "Louder Than a Bomb," documents a different kind of game: a youth poetry slam in Chicago where schools from the city’s diverse neighborhoods meet to share their talent and their stories.
Instead of playing up a heated competition, Siskel and Jacobs turn their cameras on the mutual edification between the contestants. The kids are out to win, but they’re just as serious about building each other up as they are about taking home any bragging rights. The spirit of the competition (and consequently, the entire film) is perfectly summarized in one of its principle contestants, Adam Gottlieb. He’s a magnetic young man who is as un-self conscious as his bushy pony tail. In front of the camera he’s a good-natured goof who exudes maturity beyond his years both on and off the stage. He welcomes newcomers and even composes special poems to sing the praises of his competitors while ‘spitting’ rhymes twice as fast as any rapper. One judge says of Adam, “I didn’t think they made people like him anymore.”
Gottlieb embodies the competition’s slogan: “The point is not the points, it’s the poetry,” and Siskel and Jacobs wisely follow this young man’s lead. The result is a film that doesn’t feel the need to artificially inflate its drama. There is no comment on the oft-discussed ‘sad state of urban youth’ or any lame attempts to prescribe ‘what these kids need’. Instead, they are allowed to speak for themselves. Their poetry forms the whole of this film’s thematic atmosphere, and it’s rich and inspiring. Siskel and Jacobs are content to present a sober cross-section of the lives of several extraordinary high school students. "Louder Than A Bomb" exhibits a rare sincerity in a socially conscious documentary.
Technically, the film is excellent. Every scene pops with the kids’ personality, and the few ‘filler’ shots are filmed with careful attention to composition. The audio is never muddy and the editing is crisp. Siskel and Jacobs don’t just go in waving cameras around, and their attention to post-production detail pays off. Even the best source material can be ruined by visual carelessness, but the directors never drop the ball. As an added bonus, the soundtrack carries some recognizable tunes that make the film’s few music montages memorable.
I loved "Louder Than a Bomb." Siskel and Jacobs’ calm resistance of melodrama is fertile soil for these youngsters. The inherent value of filming the poetry slam, as opposed to the other competitions documented by previous kiddie docs is that these kids aren’t pouring their energies into learning arbitrary parlor tricks. These teenagers bring only their stories and their creative energy into an event that ends up feeling more like a party than a tournament. The competitive spirit courses through "Louder Than A Bomb," but it never comes at the expense of positivity. | | By Kamaria Porter Having the occasion to spend most of my days with teenagers, I found "Louder Than A Bomb" completely charming. Documenting the Chicago youth slam poetry competition of the same name, directors Jon Siskel and Greg Jacobs introduce us to four extraordinary young authors and an exciting Chicago art community. The film excels by following the teens, listening to their poetry, and probing the sources of their powerful verses. The directors rightly drop us into this world, letting us hear the verses and see students and teachers learn through collaboration. As a hometown girl it was thrilling to watch these new voices bursting out to tell vital stories of loss, hope and identity.
The film invests us early in the teams showing how each school prepares for the competition. We get the closest look at Steinmetz Academic Centre, a public school on the west side of Chicago. The unexpected winners of last year's tournament, the Steinmetz students are hungry for another victory and the recognition their community so rarely receives. Headed by Lamar, an electrifying poet and exacting leader, the Steinmetz team goes through fits of inspiration and silliness with Lamar begging his teammates to write. The film seems to be rooting for Steinmetz as underdogs with a title to defend; yet their poetry elicits our respect. Lamar delivers a sophisticated and risky piece about gun violence, putting himself in the mind of a school shooter. As a team, Steinmetz delivers targeted and emotional social commentary with the piece "Counting Graves." Through this poem, these students wrest us into the mind of a teen grieving his mother and brother murdered in a drive-by intended for him. This piece, more than any other, embodies the purpose and possibilities of slam poetry and may be the best sequence in the film.
"Louder Than A Bomb" respects this high school competition as a true community of artists. The students become fans of each other's work, quoting their favorite lines and paying homage to each other in poems. It gets a little misty when Adam Gottlieb's team calls Steinmetz an inspiration to the entire community in their final poem. Adam, the most enthusiastic and loving teenager alive, was a pleasure to meet through the film. He delivers a strong personal and historical reflection in a solo piece called "Maxwell Street." His deep analysis of his Jewish heritage combined with affection for his grandmother was wonderful to watch. We can see his love for the competition as he attends every battle and cheers every poet. Gottlieb is the kind of student you dream of teaching not just because of his congeniality, but his capacity to teach and bolster others.
I would say "Louder Than a Bomb" is mandatory viewing for local audiences. It highlights a vibrant and vital Chicago institution that simply provides the microphone for Chicago teens to tell their stories and join a truly diverse community. After seeing the film, I made a mental note to stop by Columbia College for next year's contests. For those outside of Chicago, the film remains accessible by focusing on these emerging artists, their poetry and the stories between the verses. |
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