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Wow. Nobody does guilt like a nun. Am I right?

The boys meet Curtis (Cab Calloway), their childhood mentor and music teacher, in the basement on their way down the stairs *wink*. He confirms Sister Mary’s story, and begs the boys to help. Jake is unmoved but Elwood is the idealistic one, and it falls to him to kick off the Blues Brothers World Redemption Tour by getting his brother to church. It’s a tall order; years in the joint have made Jake a bitter, godless man. But the service is a raucous Holy Roller affair, filled with singing, dancing, and a fire and brimstone sermon delivered by the King of Soul himself. Immediately, Jake and Elwood are filled with Heavenly inspiration. They resolve to reunite the rhythm and blues band they had before Jake went up the river. Once they’ve got the band back together, they’ll play enough gigs to get the money and save the orphanage and ensure their Eternal Reward. And that’s it. Two Catholic boys piss off a nun and have ten days to come up with five grand or they go to hell. That’s the whole movie, more or less. The last three quarters of the film are all about Jake and Elwood’s efforts to reunite their reluctant band mates, and the shenanigans that ensue along the way.

These exploits include violently provoking the State Police, the Illinois Nazi Party, Jake’s psycho ex-girlfriend and those Killer Rednecks I told you about. They include destroying an entire shopping mall and driving a 1974 Dodge Monaco through the lobby of the Cook County courthouse. It’s an absurd, Tom and Jerry style chase picture punctuated by high energy musical numbers, performed by a who’s who of R&B royalty. Sure, you could rightfully decry this film for its wafer thin plot and over reliance on slapstick vehicular sight gags. But you’d be missing the point, because the music IS the point. The Blues Brothers isn’t a movie, it’s a celebration of the music both Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi loved, and every action sequence is just there to set up the next song. This is a zany musical road comedy starring a couple of guys in rumpled suits who never take their sunglasses off. There’s nothing here worth taking seriously, and If it weren’t for the rated R language and homicidal White Supremacists, you might mistake this for a children’s film.

Nothing about The Blues Brothers resembles a traditional movie, but it isn’t meant to. It couldn’t if it wanted to. Even for farce, this movie carries all the philosophical ballast of a summer barbecue. It’s just an excuse to get together and listen to some music, have some chow, piss off some Nazis and crash some cars. Personally, I find what little plot there is to be pretty consistently hilarious. But it’s the music that really drives the film forward. Most of the musical artists featured are only just past their prime, so it’s a joy to see them woven into the fabric of the story in such a fun way and the energy they bring to the film is infectious. I’m on record as hating musicals. But I make an exception for The Blues Brothers, because it’s so much more than just a musical. It’s a singing, dancing comedy about two brothers, a Nun, a band, a jilted bride, some kids, five thousand dollars, four fried chickens and a Coke. It’s about faith. It’s about atonement. It’s about 106 miles to Chicago. It’s never too late to mend, all right. And thanks to the power of rhythm and blues, it’s even kind of fun.

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