Song Sung Blue directors statement

Directors Statement

It was the summer of ’77 in Detroit when my parents took me to my first concert. I was 11 years old and my musical impressions came from a trio of 8-tracks my folks played in the car - Cat Stevens, Janis Joplin and Neil Diamond. But that hot August night was special because I was going to see Neil Diamond, live and in person. I’m not sure what it was that made it all so wonderful - the music, the spectacle, or just the fact that my folks treated me like an adult, old enough to hang out with them and even dance with them, at a “rock concert”. But I remember how proud I felt on my first day of 6th grade a week later, wearing my “Diamond” concert t-shirt. This was a true rite of passage.

Now, over 30 years later and with a wife and three kids of my own, I’ve just finished a film on which I’ve spent the last 8 years of my life. And it’s about a husband and wife singing duo from the Midwest who pay tribute to the music of Neil Diamond. I guess it all makes perfect sense.

I first encountered Lightning & Thunder back in ’93 while directing a documentary for Harley-Davidson. Lightning was belting out Sweet Caroline to a crowd of grizzled bikers dancing their chaps off. That footage never made it into the Harley film, but the impression the pair left on me was lasting.

Many people have asked why I made this film. Why Lighting & Thunder? It’s always been a tough one to answer because I can’t even articulate my affection for these guys to myself. Maybe, like so many others I encountered during this journey, it was simply that I wanted to help them succeed. I’d hoped that if I ever finished the film and people saw it, Lightning & Thunder would benefit by more bookings, bigger gigs and a wider reputation. Deep down I was praying that they would catch the eye of Letterman or Conan, or maybe even Neil Diamond himself. That by exposing Lightning & Thunder to a larger audience I could help them achieve their goal, or at the very least make their lives a little easier.

On my first visit to Milwaukee I did everything I could to help them. I joined the crew loading them into and out of venues. I bought dinners. I drove them home in the early morning hours from a gig in Chicago. But when I reviewed the footage I was disappointed that I had not accurately captured their reality. By “helping” them, I had gotten in the way of telling their story.

On my next visit I explained that I would no longer be “helping”. From now on my crew and I would become flies on the wall. It wouldn’t be easy… but the change was necessary if I were to capture the honesty and soul of their story accurately. As if to emblemize this new direction, a curious little incident occurred during one of my final visits. It was late evening and we were just finishing up in their back room, a place where Lightning & Thunder spent much of their time smoking and watching the Game Show Network. As I went to leave, I felt a tug on the back of my head: my hair had been caught by a strip of flypaper hanging from the ceiling. I had in fact become what I knew I must become-- the fly on the wall.

Many times while hanging out with Lightning I would ask him about his and Thunder’s goal, and each time the answer was the same, “to make people happy and to forget their problems, cares and worries…”

My hope is that this film exposes the passion and soul of Lightning & Thunder to a greater audience, and that by sharing their story I will have in a small way helped them to achieve that goal.

Greg Kohs, Director

the film

synopsis

- directors statement