Film Review: Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat

What do jazz drummer Max Roach and Russian head of state Nikita Khrushchev have in common? According to the stunning new documentary Soundtrack to a Coup D’Etat, they both had rhythm. Director Johan Grimonprez trains his eye on the “cool war,” focusing on a protest led by Black artists like Roach and Abbey Lincoln at the 1961 U.N. Convention to underscore the connection between American Jazz and the Cold War. In a particularly inspired sequence, Khrushchev angrily bangs his shoe on his desk at the convention to Roach’s “We Insist! Freedom Now Suite.” 

Grimonprez’s film has the vigor of jazz with quick cuts and spunky title cards but also its soul, examining the assassination of Congolese President Lumumba to highlight neo-colonial injustice. The opening sequence highlights the film’s ambition. For about 15 minutes, Grimonprez introduces the players in rapid succession, from Lumumba to Louis Armstrong, Eisenhower and Nina Simone, Malcolm X and Dizzy Gillespie. Viewers are then tossed into late 1950s world politics, quickly traveling to survey the Non-Aligned movement. If that sounds overwhelming, that’s because it is. Using a mixture of title cards, voiceover, subtitles, music, archival footage, and very sparingly, original, or contemporary footage, Soundtrack to a Coup D’Etat is the Everything Everywhere All at Once of documentaries. 

At 150 minutes, the documentary maximizes its runtime – for the most part – effectively doubling its opening and closing sequence. What at first appears playful or comical, sending jazz musicians overseas to fight the Cold War, eventually proves frightening. “America’s secret weapon is a blue note in a minor key” wasn’t a euphemism. Grimonprez demonstrates that the U.S. government appropriated the radical politics of jazz to its conservative ends; the CIA flew jazz musicians to the Third World as smokescreens to carry out covert operations that undermined fledging nations. The Congo, in particular, served as a ripe target given its rich uranium deposits, and Grimonprez focuses on Armstrong’s l960 trip to the Congo, which he argues the CIA used to assist in a conspiracy that led to Lumumba’s eventual assassination.

Soundtrack to a Coup D’Etat uses rigorous citations – the bottom of title cards lists sources– but it’s not academic. By marrying music and archival footage, Grimonprez makes morbid musical jokes, like when he pairs Louis Armstrong’s “I’m Confessin’ (That I Love You)” with footage of Eisenhower and Khrushchev and atomic explosions. Sometimes, the footage speaks for itself as white African mercenaries and elected Western politicians alike speak frankly to journalists about committing acts of racist violence with little remorse. In an interview, a former member of the CIA states that their intentions were “completely angelic,” in the understatement of the century. 

Soundtrack also plays as a thriller with figures like Andre Blouin dodging attempts on her life. Despite already knowing the film’s conclusion, comedy and horror mix as the U.S. and its allies slowly close in on Lumumba. There is a ticking clock: 1 year until Congolese independence, 3 months since Congolese independence. For all of the dramatic archival footage, though, Grimonprez punctures feelings of nostalgia with contemporary ads for Tesla and Apple, reminding the audience that the story is not just our past but rather a clear explanation of our present as Western countries continue to sow instability in the region to extract resources.

As a film named for its soundtrack, the soundtrack doesn’t disappoint, serving as a who’s who of American Jazz musicians whose soundtrack includes songs like “Lullaby of the Leaves” by Dizzy Gillespie,  “Ballad of Hollis Brown” by Nina Simone, “Just a Gigolo” by Thelonious Monk, “A Sentimental Mood” by Duke Ellington and John Coltrane, “La Vie En Rose” by Louis Armstrong, and “Alabama” by John Coltrane. The film also features international jazz music with subtitles like “Pas Un Pas Sans Bata” by O.K Jazz and “Independence Cha-Cha” by Grand Kalle Et l’African Jazz.
Soundtrack to a Coup D’Etat is an incredible accomplishment as it delivers as an artistic, well-researched, and entertaining piece of cinema. If someone tells you they don’t like documentaries, this might be the film that changes their mind.