Beware of Mr. Baker, one of rock music’s most fascinating misanthropes gets his close-up, now making its Blu-ray debut.
The Production: 4/5
The more compelling a documentary subject, the more difficult they are destined to be. (Look no further than the recent Pee-wee Herman project, now streaming on HBO Max, and its fraught genesis.) Writer-director Jay Bulger’s Beware of Mr. Baker sums up the stakes in less than two minutes, opening with the titular subject’s visceral confrontation with the filmmaker, which ends with his nose bloodied.
As opening scenes go, it’s a doozy, and indicative of the ride Bulger takes viewers on for the ensuing 90 minutes. The 2012 documentary was born from Bulger’s brazen decision to cold-call Ginger Baker — one of music’s pre-eminent drummers — and pitch a Rolling Stone article which actually had not yet been assigned. Having formed a bond with the irascible musician, Bulger then decided to decamp to South Africa, where the then-73-year-old was holed up with his fourth wife and his prized polo ponies, and attempt to document Baker’s life and work. (Baker died in 2019, at the age of 80.)
The sheer litany of high-profile voices singing Baker’s praises — Bulger elicits hosannas from Eric Clapton, Charlie Watts, Lars Ulrich, Chad Smith, Denny Laine, Steve Winwood, Carlos Santana and many more — is a testament to the breadth of his influence. A jazz drummer at heart, Baker exploded into the rock mainstream in the 1960s, thanks to stints in Cream (a band, he grouchily points out, which was his creation) and Blind Faith, among others.
In the 1970s, Baker staged face-offs with some of the greatest drummers alive (Phil Seaman, Ervin Jones), before disappearing to Africa, bonding with Fela Kuti, driving across the Sahara Desert alone (as one does) and immersing himself in the continent’s primal rhythms. Even into the 1980s and 1990s, Baker was continually pushing himself, as a band leader, composer, arranger and performer, reinventing the art of the rock drummer every time he picked up the sticks.
Baker proves a begrudging interview subject, addressing Bulger from his living room recliner for most of the film, and often excoriating his interviewer even as he’s answering questions. With a trail of broken relationships and poor financial decisions in his wake, not to mention a prodigious amount of drug abuse which would have killed mere mortals, Baker is not particularly interested in reflection, and feels bitter about his lack of recognition and remuneration for his groundbreaking, genius-level musical skills.
While Bulger tries not to indulge his subject’s tendency to deflect and dismiss, it’s telling that most insights contained in Bulger’s film come from those who knew him, rather than the man himself. Ample stock footage of Baker’s exploits, coupled with some strikingly animated sequences, more than backs up Baker’s reputation as a peerless musician who never stopped searching for the perfect beat. Beware of Mr. Baker is a fantastic peek into the life and work of one of rock music’s most enduring and most vituperative personalities — like a kick drum or a swing of Baker’s cane, it packs a punch and leaves a mark.
Video: 3.5/5
3D Rating: NA
From all available evidence, this Kino Lorber release of Beware of Mr. Baker marks the film’s debut on Blu-ray. Bulger’s documentary is presented in a 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer at 1080p resolution, which looks serviceable throughout. Admittedly, the multitude of visual sources here — Bulger appears to have filmed the Baker interviews on a consumer-grade video camera, while the famous talking heads look a bit more filmic and the substantial amount of historical footage varies wildly in quality — makes it challenging to discern if any restoration has been undertaken. Nevertheless, it’s likely the best the film will look on home video, and there are not any massively distracting flaws present.
Audio: 4/5
Befitting a film centered on a musician, the DTS-HD MA 5.1 soundtrack provides plenty of dazzling moments for Baker’s artistry to shine through. From the heft of Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” through to the dizzyingly intricate Afrobeat of Fela Kuti, the front channels get a workout, while the surround channels help fill in ambient elements, particularly during the sequences filmed at Baker’s home in South Africa. Dialogue, while occasionally faint (Baker’s interviews are not particularly closely miked), is heard clearly, with no distortion or drop-out. Optional English subtitles are also included.
Special Features: 3/5
Bulger recorded a new, retrospective commentary track for this release, and the film’s trailer (2:17; Dolby 2.0 stereo; 1.78:1) is also included.
Overall: 4/5
The more compelling a documentary subject, the more difficult they are destined to be. Writer-director Jay Bulger’s Beware of Mr. Baker sums up the stakes in less than two minutes, opening with the titular subject’s visceral confrontation with the filmmaker, which ends with his nose bloodied.
As opening scenes go, it’s a doozy, and indicative of the ride Bulger takes viewers on for the ensuing 90 minutes. The 2012 documentary was born from Bulger’s brazen decision to cold-call Ginger Baker — one of music’s pre-eminent drummers — and pitch a Rolling Stone article which actually had not yet been assigned. Having formed a bond with the irascible musician, Bulger then decided to decamp to South Africa, where the then-73-year-old was holed up with his fourth wife and his prized polo ponies, and attempt to document Baker’s life and work. (Baker died in 2019, at the age of 80.)
Beware of Mr. Baker is a fantastic peek into the life and work of one of rock music’s most enduring and most vituperative personalities — like a kick drum or a swing of Baker’s cane, it packs a punch and leaves a mark. Having the film finally available on Blu-ray, alongside a new commentary track from the director, is a gift for fans of rock music history and documentaries alike. Highly recommended.
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