This is an uneven documentary that I eventually turned off before the end. It starts off with Clive Davis' childhood and college years being briefly described. He was raised in New York City by Jewish parents. He adored his mother and was devastated when she died when he was in college. His father died shortly after her, but he says nothing about him, which turned out to be a type of foreshadowing of what was to come.
After getting a law degree at Harvard, Mr. Davis started practicing law at a prestigious firm, but ended up strangely being named the head of Columbia Records, even though he knew nothing about music. At the time, Columbia's biggest money maker was Mitch Miller, who hated rock and roll music and said it would never last. Fortunately, Clive Davis was open to the possibility Mr. Miller was wrong.
Someone took him to the Monterey Music Festival and life at Columbia Records would never be the same. The first singer he signed up from there was the ultimate antithesis of Mitch Miller. That singer was Janis Joplin. And on and on he went signing up one successful group after another, including Simon & Garfunkel. After being forced out of Columbia years later by a scandal, Mr. Davis went on to form Arista Records.
Arista's first sign-up was Barry Manilow, a singer most either loved or hated. (Personally, I neither love nor hate him and do have some of his songs on my Sony MP3 player.) He is one of the most amusing commentators in this documentary, and there are lots and lots of commentators, as well as past and present interviews with Mr. Davis. All interviews with others praise Clive Davis to the high heavens, so don't expect this to be an unbiased documentary.
Arista brought back successful singers who were no longer recording, such as Dionne Warwick and Aretha Franklin. That was good, although their newer songs were nowhere near as great as their older songs. (My opinion, of course.) Clive Davis also discovered Whitney Houston, a darling teenager with a commanding voice. If the documentary covers her career until her downward spiral and death, I don't know.
There was little of Mr. Davis' personal life in the film for the most part. Besides the opening parts about his mother and father, there are only quick photo glimpses of his wife and kids, with a few short interviews with sons. It was hard to tell if the wives in the photos and short films were the same. It turns out there were not. About two-thirds or three-fourths of the way in the documentary, Clive Davis addresses his personal life. After having two failed marriages, he said he decided he would not choose future partners in a strict gender way. Huh?
Next, is a film segment of him talking to Katie Couric on her show, where she is asking him if his coming out as a bisexual will improve society's feelings about bisexuality. Mr. Davis replied he hoped so. I then clicked off the Netflix app, my monthly subscription to Netflix was ending in less than 12 hours, and I will never see the rest of this documentary.
After getting a law degree at Harvard, Mr. Davis started practicing law at a prestigious firm, but ended up strangely being named the head of Columbia Records, even though he knew nothing about music. At the time, Columbia's biggest money maker was Mitch Miller, who hated rock and roll music and said it would never last. Fortunately, Clive Davis was open to the possibility Mr. Miller was wrong.
Someone took him to the Monterey Music Festival and life at Columbia Records would never be the same. The first singer he signed up from there was the ultimate antithesis of Mitch Miller. That singer was Janis Joplin. And on and on he went signing up one successful group after another, including Simon & Garfunkel. After being forced out of Columbia years later by a scandal, Mr. Davis went on to form Arista Records.
Arista's first sign-up was Barry Manilow, a singer most either loved or hated. (Personally, I neither love nor hate him and do have some of his songs on my Sony MP3 player.) He is one of the most amusing commentators in this documentary, and there are lots and lots of commentators, as well as past and present interviews with Mr. Davis. All interviews with others praise Clive Davis to the high heavens, so don't expect this to be an unbiased documentary.
Arista brought back successful singers who were no longer recording, such as Dionne Warwick and Aretha Franklin. That was good, although their newer songs were nowhere near as great as their older songs. (My opinion, of course.) Clive Davis also discovered Whitney Houston, a darling teenager with a commanding voice. If the documentary covers her career until her downward spiral and death, I don't know.
There was little of Mr. Davis' personal life in the film for the most part. Besides the opening parts about his mother and father, there are only quick photo glimpses of his wife and kids, with a few short interviews with sons. It was hard to tell if the wives in the photos and short films were the same. It turns out there were not. About two-thirds or three-fourths of the way in the documentary, Clive Davis addresses his personal life. After having two failed marriages, he said he decided he would not choose future partners in a strict gender way. Huh?
Next, is a film segment of him talking to Katie Couric on her show, where she is asking him if his coming out as a bisexual will improve society's feelings about bisexuality. Mr. Davis replied he hoped so. I then clicked off the Netflix app, my monthly subscription to Netflix was ending in less than 12 hours, and I will never see the rest of this documentary.