Django Reinhardt (1910-1953) is one of my favorite jazz musicians. Reinhardt was born in a Gypsy caravan in Belgium and traveled Europe with his nomadic family. Inspired by his father, as a young boy he played the banjo, guitar, and violin. When, at 18, he lost the use of two fingers on his left hand, Reinhardt developed a new fingering technique for his guitar. It is this technique, along with his natural musical ability and propensity for jazz, for which he is best remembered. As an adult he gained widespread fame. He played with the acclaimed Quintet of the Hot Club of France, and later toured with Duke Ellington. He recorded extensively, both as a solo artist and collaboratively. 

That’s why it makes me very sad to report that Django Reinhardt: King of Jazz Guitar does not do him justice. Although the film is filled with audio recordings of Reinhardt’s music, actual footage of his famous three-digit technique is noticeably lacking. At first I thought film footage of Reinhardt in action might not exist. But then I found some on YouTube, so I’m not really sure why none of it found its way into this film.  

The filmmaker got a bit carried away with the special effects available in modern editing software. The viewer is bombarded with endless distractions. Images, superimposed over stock footage of European cities, dance distractingly across the screen. More varieties of scene transitions (cutaways, wipes, dissolves) than I can count ensure that the audience can never relax. The worst effect, by far, is the one that causes red and blue lights to flash on and off from the center of the screen. It’s distracting as well as painful to look at.

One thing that would have greatly help this film would have been the inclusion of interviews. Even little-known modern musicians giving credit to Reinhardt’s influence would make decent interviewees. Photos of Reinhardt and other artists, animated images and generic scenery footage can only be stretched so far. Interviews would have been a simple way to add variety and interest. On the plus side, the photographs used are excellent.

The music, which includes Reinhardt’s as well as his contemporaries', could not have been chosen better. Charming miniatures represent the caravan in which Reinhardt was born and the hospital where he was treated for burns. The narration consists of an interesting and informative biography. Also, the special features include a history of Reinhardt’s guitar.

The bottom line is that Django Reinhardt: King of Jazz Guitar would work better as a coffee table book accompanied by an audio CD. The images, music, and biography are all worthwhile, but without live footage, there really is no reason to make them into a film.