The stereotype about inspired music from the heart and the soul is tired and worn out. "Bruce Springsteen plays from his soul." "Bob Dylan sings from his heart." Fuck that. Music comes from the gut, and I'm not talking about that pansy beer belly that every frat boy whimpers about Sunday morning. I'm talking puffed out, rotund, stoner-hippy guts, the type that can only possibly be replicated by eating 148 ounces of steak in the span of 15 minutes.
Grateful Dawg is a documentary about two such guts. The Grateful gut you've heard of--it's none other than the protuberance of Jerry Garcia. The second gut is a bit of a less famous bulge save in the circles of the bluegrass knowledgeable, but nevertheless, Dave "Dawg" Grisman swings his mandolin across his apt physique quite well.
The documentary itself is a combination of concert footage mixed with home videos and interviews compiled by Grisman's daughter, Gillian. The film documents a 30-year friendship between Garcia and Grisman from their initial meeting at a bluegrass show in Pennsylvania to their collaborations in the late '80s and early '90s, during the years leading up to Garcia's death.
As just a documentary, the subject matter is a compelling story about two musicians from different paths brought together by a love of old, folk-bluegrass tunes. However, as a Deadhead born too late to ever see Jerry Garcia play, it's a chance to see Garcia without the hype, jamming in Grisman's living room. This is not to overshadow Grisman; the Dawg steers clear of being a film just about the megalith Garcia; rather, it's a feature about the two.
This film's most impressive features are its soundtrack and the way in which the music is intricately woven into the interviews. While some musical documentaries play a limited portion of a song, a teaser into the depth and true sounds of any song, Grateful Dawg plays each song in its entirety. This is a daunting task, considering that most movies can't even fit a full three-minute song in, but Grisman manages to weld 12 entire songs, including the 16-minute epic "Arabia," into this film. The music in Dawg is both the central character and backbone of the film. As the music takes on a life of its own, the Garcia and Grisman story is almost filler to the actual tunes of the film.
So while the bellies are swaying (particularly Dave Grisman's--man, does he know how to dance) to the tunes of bluegrass beats, a story of multiple decades of musical friendship is told. It's a story almost as sweet as the taste of fat man belly sweat.
