Read the Accompanying Essay:
Coodie and the Camera: A Critical Analysis of jeen-yuhs: A Kanye Trilogy
Introduction
Released on Netflix in early 2022, jeen-yuhs: A Kanye Trilogy was the documentary effort of Coodie Simmons, supported by Chike Ozah, to humanize Kanye West on the world stage. While it was released as a three-part miniseries, separated into “acts,” jeen-yuhs could easily operate as a singular body of work, and shall be regarded as such for the rest of this paper. While Simmons was very fortunate to have built a uniquely intimate relationship with West early into his career, he ultimately mishandles his rare opportunity through poor choices (a focus on himself, an unreliable relationship with his subject, a rough edit, and questionable ethics), leading him to be unable to effectively capture his subject’s life in insightful ways.
The documentary chronologically begins in 1998, when Simmons makes the risky decision to abandon his career of comedy and as a television host of a Chicago music journalism show called “Channel Zero” to document the journey of West, and to see “how far his dreams would take him”(act ii, 1:28:13-15). In the end, it was clear that this documentary was meant to achieve much more. It would document how others viewed West, how West viewed himself, and how West would treat Simmons as he directed a documentary on his life. For Simmons, this was watching his friendship with West change as West’s fame grew larger, and to see how the medium of documentary could be a conduit of observation.
Defining Documentary
To examine jeen-yuhs in a critical way, it is integral that key terms and defining features of documentary cinema and theory are explained. The backbone of this criticism hinges on Bill Nichols’ book Introduction to Documentary, which lays the groundwork for theory in this genre and establishes many modes and methods that various documentaries utilize. Throughout the duration of this paper, I intend to continually reference the observational and participatory modes of documentary filmmaking in relation to this film. The observational mode highlights an intimate interaction with participants’ daily lives as seen with an unobtrusive camera, where the filmmaker only observes, rather than directly interacts with, the subject (Nichols 22). This is in contrast to the participatory mode, which highlights the interaction between filmmaker and subject by using interviews or other forms of even more direct involvement, such as conversations or provocations (Nichols 22). Ultimately, these are just the simple definitions of these modes, but will be useful in grappling with the documentary as a whole.
Simmons’ Self-Obsession
The choice to include oneself in a documentary is not something new, nor is it something innately negative. The participatory mode is built on this type of self-insertion. As Nichols explains, “the filmmaker becomes a persona or character within his or her own film as well as the maker of the film”(Nichols 42). Other films that participate in this mode include various degrees of the filmmaker behind them. Michael Moore’s self-inclusion in his films is the main hallmark of his filmography. In a review of Moore’s film Bowling for Columbine (2002), film critic Peter Wilshire explains that the film was “almost as much about Moore’s as it is about the issues that he presents”(Wilshire 92). For some, being a large character is not important to their participation. In The Thin Blue Line (1988), director Errol Morris tells the audience little about himself but still remains a participant. In jeen-yuhs, Simmons’ self-insertion is arguably more extreme than even Moore’s. While Simmons attempts to establish a more objective and observational voice, he ultimately cannot stop inserting himself into the film, mainly to its detriment.
This egotistical approach to self-insertion is evident from the moment the documentary begins, where the opening montage of the film includes more of Simmons than West himself. After this montage, Simmons transitions into telling the story of his own life around the genesis of the documentary. Simmons forefronts his own experience immediately instead of West’s. While the contextual information may be important in understanding Simmons’ character within the film, it immediately draws attention away from West and more onto Simmons, a trend that continues throughout the duration of the film. In fact, every other “act” opens with a focus on Simmons. In the intro of “act ii,” he immediately references himself with a shot in the mirror accompanied by dialogue from the previous episode “Coodie on the camera”(act ii, 1:37). The introduction of “act iii” is much less explicit in this regard, but it is still highly self-referential. It opens with a conversation between West and another artist discussing the purpose of the documentary early into West’s career. This is Simmons, less directly, reflecting on his experience making the documentary because the included conversation is not chronological, as it takes place years before the timeline covered in act iii. The way that Simmons consistently chooses to frame himself at the forefront of each act is not inherently negative, but the lack of self-criticism regarding this desire to put himself and his story at the center demonstrates that he does not see it as a problem. However, it very clearly is, as this is meant to be a documentary following the life of Kanye West, and audiences expect it to be solely that.
Simmons’ ego can also be clearly felt in his narration. The narration itself reveals a lot about how Simmons views the journey of West’s rise to fame, and his skewed perception of his involvement in that rise. In a touching moment at the end of “act i,” Simmons films West and his mother, Donda, revisiting West’s childhood home. The moment unfolds in a way unlike most moments in the film, with no interference, interjections, or references to Simmons. Sensing that the audience may have forgotten him, enveloped in the emotion of the scene, as soon as the scene ends, he connects it back to himself: “Seeing how Kanye came up got me reflecting on my own life”(act i, 1:19:35-39). His narration continues, explaining how his father instilled in him the value of capturing moments on film. While the moment separated from the documentary might be compelling, the subtext of the scene only reads one way: this is a documentary about his “ journey,” and how West’s journey intertwined with it. This is only one of the many moments in the film that this misaligned focus occurs, but it serves as a subtitle example for what other similar moments look like. In essence, throughout the film, Simmons is saying that this was not “A Kanye Trilogy,” it was “A Coodie Trilogy.”
The Relationship Between Filmmaker and Subject
The separation between Simmons’ interpretation of his role as a participant and West’s view of him as just a mere observer creates a unique dissonance between the documentary, the filmmaker, and the subject that is ultimately detrimental to the film as a whole. By the release of West’s second album, Late Registration, Simmons is all but just an observer. Simmons had lost his role as participant, as the audience, West, and even himself did not regard him as being “on the same plane of human existence” as West, like a participatory documentarian would be with their subjects, and he was rather “on the more detached plane of commentator”(Nichols 112). In his interaction with West at the launch party, he calls Simmons by the wrong name twice (act ii, 9:23-10:01). While it was clear that West was intoxicated at this moment, it was evident that this had a big impact on Simmons. As he explains in his commentary following the tense and awkward moment, Simmons, for the first time, was on “the outside looking in”(act ii, 11:36-38). Simmons had lost the magic that made the documentary so unique - that Simmons had unique insight and access to West’s life that nobody else would. However, with him being pushed to the sidelines, Simmons had nothing to offer.
By the end of the film, Simmons has no understanding of his role in West’s life. After their reunion in Chicago mends their relationship, Simmons returns to document West as he works on his more recent albums. In the final moments of the film, Simmons concludes the film with this narration, “And I want to thank you for using me as a tool to tell this story”(1:31:20-22) Simmons’ self perception has completely dissipated, viewing himself as just something to be used by West. In these last moments of narration, it may even seem unsure if Simmons is thanking God or West himself. This blurred line represents the subtle crux of the issue: the relationship between the filmmaker and subject, one that was once a friendship, has developed into a one between worshiper and deity. The scales are tipped in West’s favor, and this ultimate loss of control demonstrates where this documentary dissolves in Simmons’ hands.
The Edit
It is clear that Simmons struggles with editing the final film, which is not surprising considering there were hundreds of hours of footage collected over a period of twenty years. While it is evident that Simmons was recording basically at all times when in the presence of West (at least during the timeframe of act i and ii), the edit butchers a lot of the intense moments by feeling the need to cut through them. In a scene early on into the film, West and his team “bum rush” the headquarters of Roc-A-Fella Records, a label West was trying to sign with (act i, 17:53-20:56). Simmons choses to keep the camera rolling the entire time of this intense moment, but it was clear that once the scene was brought to the editing floor, it was decided that a long take was not sufficient. So, the scene constantly utilizes jump cuts to speed up the scene. While this might be effective for something in the style of YouTube video, it does not work here. There is a deep-rooted history of the long-take and its effectiveness in documentaries. For example, in Primary (1960), director Robert Drew utilizes a long-take as the main subject of the film, John F. Kennedy, shuffles through a crowd of people. This long-take scene captures the emotions of the scene because it gives the audience time to ruminate on what is occurring - to feel what the subject and filmmaker are feeling. In jeen-yuhs, by cutting through this bum-rush, the audience loses the emotion because they feel more detached from what is occurring on screen. There is no time for tension to build because the scene constantly jumps from action to action, sacrificing realism and emotion in favor of a scene that caters to a shorter attention span.
An Ethical Analysis
Kanye West has never been known as an especially stable figure (especially in recent times), and this instability towards the end of the film is put right on display. The responsibility of presenting this instability responsibly falls on Simmons, and he should have expected this. By choosing to operate within the participatory mode, Simmons was choosing, as Nichols explains, “to intervene overtly in the affairs of their characters,” and therefore, “run the risk of altering behavior adversely and of having their judgment and sensitivity called into question”(37). This criticism has been seen throughout the history of documentary film, such as the Maysles Brothers’ Grey Gardens (1975), which parallels a lot of jeen-yuhs’ ethical issues.
Grey Gardens delves into the eccentric lives of reclusive mother and daughter, as they live in a deteriorating mansion in East Hampton, New York. Grey Gardens has been highly criticized within the documentary world, as many believe the directors took advantage of these weak and possibly disturbed women. However, as Matthew Abott, a Senior Lecturer in Philosophy, explains in an article on the film, “[critics] missed the dark humanism of the film, blinded by moralism… to the brothers’ frank but empathetic and unflinching treatment of the [subjects]”(Abott 109). The choice to stay consistent with their portrayal and treatment shows that they are not projecting assumptions of their own and are rather presenting them for others to judge. The third act of jeen-yuhs delves into the eccentric life of Kanye West and his mental state in a similar way. However, where Grey Gardens maintains consistency in portrayal, Simmons feels intimidated by West (possibly due to his final involvement in the film) and therefore decides to cut a lot of West’s more manic moments. This is Simmons making a statement, that he believes that these moments are not meant to be seen because they are negative, and that “it just didn’t feel right to keep filming” as he explains in narration (act iii, 1:26:33-36). At the end of the film, Simmons makes his stance on West’s mental state clear. He lets West’s indistinct rapping continue into darkness as ominous music plays, keying to the audience that while his hopeful addendum in the closing narration believes that the West we once knew is still in there, right now, he is far gone. At least, that’s what Simmons wants you to think.
Although Simmons was lucky enough to develop an exceptionally close relationship with West at the beginning of his career, it is clear that he made numerous poor decisions that damaged the film’s overall potential. There were numerous other issues (an unwillingness to conclude the film, an overreliance on montage, etc.) that could not be covered within this essay, but still contributed to the demise of this film. While this film may not remain lodged in the canon of documentary film, it was still culturally relevant for its time and deserves to be discussed, even if that discussion is primarily critical.