As a fan of independent film and 90s rock and roll, I was excited to watch the documentary, All I Can Say about Shannon Hoon, the lead singer of Blind Melon, a band that gained popularity in the 90s primarily through their hit song, “No Rain.”
It premiered at Tribeca Film Festival this past Friday and blew me away. I was curious about the Blind Melon front man as I was only vaguely familiar with the band through a few of their tracks and various correlations with musicians I love like Chris Cornell/Soundgarden and Pearl Jam who have a song, “Bee Girl” inspired by the culturally iconic ‘bee girl’ in the MTV viral video for “No Rain.”
History often depicts those who have taken their life or surrendered it to drugs as depressed, troubled or weak. Shannon, like so many other talented musicians died of a drug overdose at the age of 28 in 1995. But, what was his story?
Going in, I knew that the film would include home video footage that Shannon had taken of himself over the course of several years. But, about 1/4 into the film, I came to realize that the film was entirely comprised of his footage filmed from 1990-1995 - it was grainy, it was raw, it was human.
I was intrigued but also skeptical thinking the film would be choppy or lack narrative. To my surprise and to the credit of its phenomenal directors Danny Clinch, Taryn Gould and Colleen Hennessy, the film's flow and transitions were seamless. I quickly became captivated by Shannon Hoon’s spirited, outlandish personality - from the way he lovingly teased his girlfriend to his interaction with his band members and his comedic one-liners to the camera. I felt like we could be fast friends.
Seeing life through Shannon’s uncensored lens felt extremely intimate and portrayed a sincere vulnerability that was both beautiful yet uncomfortable at times. Was I invading Shannon’s head space? Was this something he intended on sharing? Witnessing his level of transparency in the videos, you begin to believe that he wanted to share his journey with you - from his humble hometown in the Midwest to his rise in the ranks of music and pop culture to his battles with rage and addiction.
Through it all Shannon’s ridiculous humor, mischievous spirit and passion remained. He was passionate about his art but his passion for his relationships are what made him so easy to embrace - from the playful moments with his young niece and his lighthearted-in-tone yet serious-in-nature talks with father to his over the moon glee and affection for his newborn daughter, Nico.
Shannon embodied the ticking timeline of the film. He'd often ask, “What time is it?” which translated in my mind to “How much time do I have left?” as it served as an ominous reminder of the end approaching.
Although I knew the outcome, I still somehow rooted for Shannon when he went to rehab or tried to kick his destructive habits. I was invested and engulfed in the beauty, hilarity and tragedy of Shannon Hoon. As the time stamp on the videos progressed, I became anxious knowing he would leave us soon.
The ultimate emotional knee-jerk moment was toward the end during an intimate birthday celebration where Lisa was behind the camera singing Shannon Happy Birthday while he stared at the number 28 candle almost the entire time, cracking a smile only towards the end of her serenade. I tear up thinking about that scene as it hit hard when she happily added, “And many more…” to the song unaware that would be the last candle he blew out.
At the end of the film, the theater was completely silent. Not just quiet. Silent. It was unlike anything I had experienced before. It was almost ceremonial, the reverence that was shared through that moment of silence. Someone broke the silence with a clap and we all followed. It was a moving, emotional experience even as the directors came back up to the screen to share a few words and tears of grief, relief, and gratitude.
Not only was this documentary monumental in the way it was presented through the lens of a 90s camcorder, it was insightful, inspirational yet tragic all at once. It hit on fundamental elements of humanity and you can see yourself or someone you know in Shannon. A film with heart and guts, beauty and loss. It was more than I can say.
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