Two Questions at the Heart of Disney's "Soul"
Julian Reid
By Julian Reid
On Christmas Day of 2020, Disney & Pixar premiered “Soul,” a music-focused, Black-led, theologically rich film. The story follows Joe Gardner (played by Jamie Foxx and pianist Jon Batiste), a jazz pianist and music educator in New York on the hunt for his big musical break. But when the opportunity of a lifetime comes, his excitement literally kills him, setting his soul on a conveyor belt for the afterlife, “The Great Beyond.” Our protagonist refuses to accept his fate because he has yet to get his big break, so the movie then follows his relentless efforts to get back to earth and play his dream. Over the course of his search for earthly success, Joe learns about the real meaning of life.
As a Black American Christian jazz musician, I resonated with the cultural and theological elements of “Soul.” For one, it was an honor to see this Black American art form displayed on screen for mainstream audiences like this. The music was great, and the depiction of the world of jazz was meticulous (even down to Joe Gardner’s hands syncing with Jon Batiste’s overdubbed playing). Most importantly, the film talked about how jazz is Black improvisational music and a fundamental contribution to American culture.
In addition to being proud of these cultural elements, I was intrigued by the theological questions “Soul” generated for me and for the Church. I left the film pondering two questions in particular: How should Christian musicians understand “getting lost” in their music? How does faith address the unique way Black musicians can “get lost” given racism in this country?
Question 1: How should Christian musicians understand “getting lost” in their music?
Joe’s all-consuming love for the music was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, his supreme focus on the music enabled him to play exceptionally, which landed him the big-time gig with the great saxophonist Dorothea Williams (whose music was played by the saxophonist Tia Fuller). On the other hand, it caused him to disconnect from reality, thus bringing him to death’s door. Over the course of the film he learns that there is a fine line between “getting lost” in the rapture of music (pun-intended) and losing touch with reality. When “getting lost” becomes an obsession, we actually become lost souls, and miss out on the richness of the world that lives beyond our tunnel vision.
Joe “getting lost.”
Though Joe’s own religious faith is never expressly stated, his journey to discover the truth of life beyond music is a helpful on-ramp into St. Paul’s discussion of passions in Titus 3:3-5. In the apostle’s letter to his co-worker in the ministry, Paul announces that our lusts that once enslaved us no longer do because Christ has mercifully saved us (and continues to do so). That means that the Christian life gives us freedom from that bondage to whatever else might enslave, including even the love of our vocation.
This freedom from enslavement to passion may sound well and good, but “Soul” and Titus are highlighting a lifelong tension with which Christian professional musicians contend. On one hand we need great drive to be a professional musician (the kind of drive that can lead to getting you lost in the moment), but on the other hand that drive cannot consume us. This is a difficult tension because one cannot sustain a career in professional music (or the arts in general) without it being a pure passion. Professional music is often regarded as a passion, no matter whether you’re 1st chair trumpet for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra or the lead trumpeter in a salsa band. And the kind of intense focus needed to play music well often calls musicians to “get lost” in the moment.
The Scripture and Pixar remind us that we must toe this line as faithful musicians. Our work is not our master. Music can be taken from us, as difficult as that might be to accept. We are ultimately beholden to a different kind of Master, one bigger than the music. Our vision, therefore, must always be bigger than music, such that we see where God is working throughout our lives. But on the other side of the line is the fact we have to immerse ourselves. Working hard at our scales, absorbing the significant opportunity costs of not pursuing more lucrative fields, and oftentimes being misunderstood by the public requires us to really love this music. At the end of the day, the question is not whether we get lost in the music, but towards what end do we get lost?
Question 2: How does faith address the unique way Black musicians can “get lost” given racism in this country?
Then there is the fact that Joe is a Black musician cutting it on the jazz scene in New York in the 21st century. Part of the driving tension of the film came from Joe’s disapproving mother Libba (played by Phylicia Rashad). She was resistant to her son being a full-time performing jazz musician because her husband, Joe’s father, had been a cat on the scene too who had needed her financial support in order to play (she owned her own tailoring business). In other words, she was afraid of Joe “getting lost” in a different way, that is, losing his ability to support himself because of the uncertainties and precariousness of a low-paying, non-prestigious art form.
This fraught family dynamic picks up on how Black masculinity is entangled in the complexity of being a Black musician. In this movie, instead of Joe facing the dangers of police brutality or workplace discrimination, he instead is confronting his need for financial stability and the respect of the Black community (his mother, her coworkers, and his bandmates). Joe must therefore contend with two tensions in this film, as do Black male professional artists throughout society: the tension of being a Black man with financial security in this country and a Black man who is infatuated with a craft that is all-consuming. Of course all kinds of musicians have to face the precariousness of a professional career in the arts, but Black musicians have a peculiar challenge because of how the economics in this country have been stacked against us since 1619. (Thankfully, Joe’s mother comes around to being one of his biggest fans over the course of the film.)
Joe, his mother Libba (on his left), and Libba’s two co-workers, Melba and Lulu, at Libba’s tailor shop (on his right).
As a Black musician myself I can relate to this desire for respect from my community and for financial security. But my answer is my faith. Joe’s story brings me back to Paul. I have to rely on God’s grace to see me through my calling of creating music that is true to me. Like so many Black folk who have come before me, I am believing in Jesus, the kinder master than my music, to be my way-maker.
So let us heed the wisdom of St. Paul as refracted through Pixar’s parable “Soul.” Let us be musicians of deep wonder in the music, but not people who lose touch with reality. Let us be artists who have a deeper gospel than the good news of getting a next gig. Let us be Christians that can hold onto faith regardless of economic, political, and social challenges. And finally, let us be proclaimers who tell the world through our music of the Original Creator – the One who gives life meaning and purpose.
Julian Reid is the Editor of the Deus Ex Musica. An artist-theologian, he is a founding member of The JuJu Exchange as well as a regular preacher and solo performer. He holds degrees from Yale College and Candler School of Theology at Emory University. You can learn more about him here.
Title Picture taken from https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/25/movies/soul-jazz-animation.html