Don Cheadle/ USA/ 2015/ 100 mins

In cinemas nationwide now

Very much a passion project,  Don Cheadle directs, co-writes, and stars as jazz legend Miles Davis in a suitably free-form, unconventional biopic.

Taking place during Davis’ wilderness years in the late-’70s, Cheadle portrays the great man as a dying beacon of faded glory.  He’s creatively blocked, hermetically sealed in his own home, and in constant pain due to a degenerative hip disorder.  Only the appearance on his doorstep of a dishevelled, opportunistic reporter played by Ewan McGregor brings him out of his stupor, and into conflict with Columbia Records, to whom he is contractually obliged to provide a new record.

The film switches between the fictional late-period Davis, and the younger Davis in 1945 as his career takes off and he meets and marries Frances Taylor (Emayatzy Corinealdi).  These scenes play out in a more conventional way compared to the contemporaneous action, which dips its toe into the realm of the gangster caper.  Cheadle skilfully uses dissolves and camera trickery to segue neatly between periods; at times even blending the two, such as a brawl instigated by David during a boxing match, as his younger self looks on, performing in the ring.

Such postmodern touches elevates the story beyond the standard music biopic template followed slavishly by the like of Walk the Line and Ray, although there are plenty of those kind of scenes.  The madcap adventures over a stolen tape of unreleased material are tempered by the depiction of him as an abusive husband, and a man prone to violence and prodigious substance abuse.  Cheadle wisely never tries to downplay Davis’ more unsavoury characteristics, and it’s a credit to his thoroughly committed performance that we never tire of his company.

Sadly, Ewan McGregor’s performance doesn’t hold up as well. A curiously frustrating actor at times, he’s never matched the energy and slightly seedy charisma he brought to Shallow Grave and Trainspotting, and looks adrift at times next to Cheadle’s larger-than-life presence.  Even afforded the chance to use his natural accent he still comes across as stilted and awkward.  The film also feels a little rudderless; a series of diverting tangents that, while entertaining, fail to really portray the film’s subject with any real substance.  While avoiding the pitfalls and some of the cliches of a normal biopic, it merely flirts with real engagement.

Despite this, Miles Ahead is never dull, and captures the feel of the periods it depicts beautifully.  Cinematographer Roberto Schaeffer brings a grainy, scratchy palette to the scuzzy ’70s, and a crisper, clearer, classically Hollywood touch to 1945.  Cheadle’s commitment shines through and his irascible, raspy Davis is a delight.