The starting point for any serious analysis of Cooke's untimely death and its aftermath is Peter Guralnick, Drum Boogie: The Triumph of Sam Cooke (New York: Little, Brown, 2005),609-51. Mr. Guralnick does not appear in this film, nor is there any mention of him.

Nor is there any discussion of Cooke's intoxication on the evening in question, or the fact that both the manager (Ms. Franklin) and the female companion (Ms. Boyer) passed voluntary lie detector tests prior to taking the witness stand, which in turn influenced the jury to acquit Ms. Franklin. Moreover, the owner of the motel (Ms. Card) claimed that she was on the 'phone with Ms. Franklin throughout her altercation with Cooke, and therefore "overheard" everything that occurred. While that "happy coincidence" (Guralnick, 628) was remarkably convenient, it has never been challenged or contradicted by any other evidence. Cooke was no stranger to the area where his fatal assignation occurred, not far from the Manchester exit off the (I-110) Harbor Freeway. Conversely, Ms. Boyer, who fled from the room and (apparently) hid in an alley, was unfamiliar with those surroundings; she called the police from a pay 'phone in the immediate vicinity, then waited until a squad car found her there. None of this is brought up in the film, either, which is just as well, since it is replete with errors of omission and commission, respectively. Last but not least, Sam Cooke and his wife Barbara had a troubled relationship. Soon after he died, she remarried, then divested herself of most of her late husband's corporate and financial assets, which accounts for the rise in Allen Klein's fortunes, without resorting to gratuitous accusations against him. In fact, Klein ordered an inquiry into Cooke's death, precisely because he did not believe it was either an accident or the result of a romantic entanglement. He spent considerable sums of money on private investigators, but called it off when they discovered unsavory things about his client that would have ruined the late singer's reputation, had they been made public. Neither he nor Barbara Cooke (now Barbara Womack) wanted that to happen-- Klein to protect his business interests, and Ms. Cooke-Womack to protect her children.

You will not learn that from this poor excuse for a documentary film, nor will you discover anything else worth knowing. However, the cinematography is excellent, especially the scenes of Bronzeville, on the South Side of Chicago, which evoke the atmosphere and sublimity of the neighborhood where Cook grew up, while the narration is hypnotic or seductive by turns--as compelling in tone and rhythm as it is fatuous and devoid of content. Sam Cooke was a great singer, an exemplary performer and a deeply flawed human being. He deserves to be treated with utmost respect, rather than to be exploited in this way. The Hacienda Motel was sleazy, but this is a travesty, both of art and of truth.

Another speculative film passed off as a "documentary" trying to restore the tarnished reputation of an American icon. The filmmakers and Cooke's living relatives just can't accept the fact that our icons sometimes have feet of clay. "Maybe the police did it." "His manager was probably involved." "He was set up." Don't come to us with allegations you can't prove and expect us to buy in. Don't watch this film if you want to know about Sam Cooke. He was a superstar who was caught with his pants down in a seedy motel. 'Nuf said.

U idiots think that u can rate this beautiful work of art as a 6.600. U ARE A FOOL... PUNK.