When I got the news that Don’t Turn Your Back on Friday Night, a documentary about Illinois-based singer-songwriter Ike Reilly, was coming out in late August, I rummaged around in my closet and started unpacking the boxes of albums and CDs. They are a heavy burden and indispensable. There are some reliquaries that Marie Condo and her way of selling everything will never buy.
Mr. Reilly’s debut album, “Salesmen And Racists,” was released nearly a quarter of a century ago. My first impression of the record is still vivid and jarring. What was it with this guy from a Chicago suburb and his hard-to-categorize music? Rock’n’roll, definitely, especially with those hard guitar riffs, but it’s also a little bit country, punk-influenced, rap-like and, let’s be honest, rude. Rude, you might say. “My songs,” Mr. Reilly tells us, “are either lies or excuses.”
Mr. Reilly had the audacity to start the album with an ethnic joke disguised as a song – that is, after explaining how a lack of sexual prowess was compensated for by a superb sense of humor. The following number, “Hip Hop Thighs #17,” turned out to be an unbridled paean to Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline and “the former lead singer of the Clash,” Joe Strummer, who had become physically violent with the singer’s girlfriend. Mr. Reilly reassures us, and probably himself, that “no Limey ever did anything like ‘I Walk the Line.'”
Sarcasm is not Mr. Reilly’s strong suit, but he is caustic and reliant on colloquialisms. He also has an empathy that has been both tested and honed by experience. Early in the film, co-directors Michael O’Brien and Mike Schmiedeler give a detailed backstory to one of Mr. Reilly’s best-known songs, “Put A Little Love In It (According to John).” They take us to the barber shop, the highway and the cemetery, confirming Mr. Reilly’s blue-collar roots and his talent for pithy remarks.
Much time is spent in Libertyville, the artist’s birthplace. Has Mr. Reilly’s career suffered because he never left this humble town? That’s the theory of musician, producer and Harvard graduate Tom Morello, who was born in New York City but also grew up in Libertyville. We watch Mr. Reilly walk the tree-lined streets, moving between the landmarks and the homes of friends and family. Although he has toured the world alone and with his band, the Ike Reilly Assassination, Mr. Reilly draws strength – and no small amount of anger – from his hometown.
Although he has fallen prey to the excesses of the rock’n’roll lifestyle – Mr. Reilly and his cronies love to drink – the artist is blessed with a loving, endlessly patient wife, Kara Dean, and children who have grown accustomed to their father’s eccentricities and demands. “Don’t Turn Your Back On Friday Night” also focuses on rock’n’roll realities like paying the bills. Mr. Reilly has supported himself and his family by mowing lawns, digging graves and working as a doorman. Not every rock’n’roll animal has been named “Employee of the Year” by the Hyatt hotel chain.
The subject of religion is also addressed. Although he was born and raised a Catholic, Mr. Reilly has since expressed reservations about joining a “paternal religious army.” But one of his oldest friends is Father Matt Foley, pastor of Mary, Seat of Wisdom Parish in Park Ridge, Illinois. The good bishop performed Mr. Reilly’s wedding, baptized his children and continues to be his jogging partner. “It’s OK to disagree,” Father Foley tells us, “and it’s OK to remain friends.” He continues to pray for Mr. Reilly’s soul.
As a cultural statement, “Don’t Turn Your Back on Friday Night” preaches an open door: Messrs. O’Brien and Schmeidler come to praise Mr. Reilly, not to bury him. Moreover, Mr. Reilly is quite good at burying himself: The film is not afraid to reveal the emotional and financial costs of remaining true to his art. If only the directors’ approach were less “impressionistic”: Jumbled chronological order of Mr. Reilly’s life and career leads to confusing transitions, thus robbing his story of any clarity and drama. An unscrupulous editor could have narrowed the film’s scope.
The best way to get to know Mr. Reilly’s hard music is through his albums. “Salesmen and Racists” remains an unwieldy and compelling signpost, but let’s also listen to “We Belong to the Staggering Evening” (2007) and the alternately raunchy and tender “Hard Luck Stories” (2009). If you’re emboldened by the artist’s wild production, “Don’t Turn Your Back on Friday Night” will be enlightening.
