Hellhounds on My Trail . Austin Chronicle . 03-29-99

Hellhounds on My Trail

DIRECTED BY: Bob Mugge

REVIEWED: 03-29-99

The legend goes something like this: Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil to become the king of the Delta blues. Whether you believe that or not, the king he is, and when Johnson met with the crossroads over 60 years ago, he scorched a legacy in the earth that made him one of the most beloved -- and mysterious -- bluesmen of all time. In lieu of answers about the musician himself (which, presumably, are few), Mugge's film focuses primarily on Johnson's influence on modern music, using as the film's centerpiece his recent induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Interspersing covers of Johnson's music with interviews of industry experts, journalists, and musicians, Mugge takes an unexpectedly cerebral approach to a man whose lifework was all about heart and soul. In a second-half journey into Mississippi, Mugge finds his most compelling subject in a childhood friend of Johnson's. Missing teeth and leathery with age, his eyes twinkle when he thinks back to the ol' days, and he flashes a sweetheart of a smile when he talks about the musician's version of "Sweet Home Chicago." But just when you're captivated, the film cuts back to the Hall of Fame, where white men sit in filled auditoriums trying to parse the meaning of the blues. Perhaps the real question here is not "Who was Robert Johnson?" but "Who owns him now?," and in answering the latter, the film finds some disquieting answers. But in not answering the former, Mugge's documentary can't help but disappoint.

--Sarah Hepola

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