It really made me laugh, but for some moments I was tearing up because I could relate so much.

A clunky actioner with a handful of cool moments.

Close shines in drama with strong language, adult themes.

A clunky actioner with a handful of cool moments.

I can't even begin to get into the inspiration this movie gives out. How a little women goes into the prison of Angola and gives prisoners the gift of blues music, this not only touched them but me too. I have a heavy appreciation for blues music but hearing it come from men who could have given up on life changed my feelings about music. Watching people evolve and come together strictly because of the music they share among each other is a rewarding experience. There are plenty behind the scenes documentaries that shed light on prison life. I will say that this particular film is nothing like a regular boring prison documentary in respects that it paints the inmate from another point of view. I never thought getting to know people I've never met would touch me the way these random inmates did. The ending is even more surprising, it set the tone for the whole purpose of the movie.

Music From the Big House was an incredibly touching film that shows us an aspect of the prison system that is usually overlooked, the talent of the individuals within the prison. All of the individual inmates who get interviewed in the film are very musically gifted. Showing us several different bands that formed within the prison, the final concert that Rita Chiarelli put on with them has varied musical types: Country, Blues, Jazz, and Gospel. Rita acts as a guiding force or narrator as we follow her specific journey into Angola prison. Her unique viewpoint on the prisoners' situation makes any viewer question what is really going on inside these prisons. She makes a great point in saying that "we" on the outside feel like we are unaffected by what goes on inside the prisons, but the pain of those individuals trickles down through their families and friends. But Rita also is sure to keep in mind that there are victims out there who are suffering the loss that these men now hold the guilt for. She feels a strange moral quandary when working with group, for she begins to love them, they are good people. From the viewers perspective we pick up on this as well. With many interview bits jumping in- between the musical numbers, we get to know each character, each person relatively well. The film does a good job of putting us into the shoes an perspective of the Angola prisoners and how they deal with "the knowledge that they are going to die in there." For many men, coming to prison was actually a saving grace that allowed them to leave their foolish youth behind and accept a more compassionate and loving lifestyle through the church. Overall the film leaves you off feeling like, WoW, these are changed people, good people, talented and inspirational individuals living within Angola prison, but then the carpet is pulled out from under you as their violent and malicious crimes are revealed to you. It makes you question whether or not you can forgive people for such horrific crimes, whether people can actually change or not.

I knew what Music From the Big House was going to be about, in a very general sense, and being a blues fan I was looking forward to it. I'd never heard of Rita Chiarelli but I became a fan very quickly; her passion for the blues and her own craft is genuine and contagious. As you learn the history of Angola Prison and the individual stories of the inmates you kind of lapse into feeling sorry for these men. The whole time I was trying to remind myself that these inmates were serving life terms for a reason, and without being told what crime they had each committed almost made it worse as I imagined every heinous crime in the book. But as the movie went on, I became so engaged with these men's stories that the fact that they were imprisoned almost fell to the wayside. They were funny and gentle and seemed like normal people and the dynamic there between the people I was witnessing and the fact that they were convicted felons created a very real tension that kept me invested in the story. For any fan of the blues, watching the inmates perform with Chiarelli was incredibly raw and emotionally visceral. When these guys are belting out lyrics about death and loneliness and redemption, specifically on the Chiarelli-penned "Lay My Bones To Rest," you believe every word they sing. It feels real, feels so absolutely honest and heartfelt that you can't help but be enraptured by their performances and feel like a part of the experience. They croon like the condemned men they are, the shadows of their sentences hanging over their heads like vulture. That kind of emotion can't be faked, can't be bought, but can only come from experience. They're doomed and they know it, and that raw, emotional,cathartic release is refreshing in a world of bubble-gum pop stars and flavor-of-the-month radio hits. It offers a constant gut check on the nature of forgiveness and who should be forgiven, and there's no way to leave the movie without conflicting emotions. These men have nowhere to go but up, and witnessing these seemingly changed men, men who seem absolutely peaceful and at peace with themselves, bear their souls and stories is beautifully haunting.

Music from the Big House begins humbly enough, with a myriad of inmates telling their musical roots. Rita Chiarelli seeks to go back to the roots of the blues, Angola Prison Louisiana. This is where the magic happens. Taking the time to assemble 4 different bands, Rita masterfully guides the inmates learning their past, while teaching her own. Together they make nothing short of a masterpiece. Music from the Big House grants a beautiful look into the hearts and souls of these men. Introducing you to the new souls, the men of hope, looking out of their harrowing homes and into the heavens for salvation. Rita becomes their angel in garb, dealing out guitars, keyboards, and drums; making the blues resonate from the stonewalls of Angola Prison. I loved the simple black and white film, each shadowed grain only intensified emotions of the graveled voices. Chiarelli guides us humbly, granting us with an open-hearted look into the real men and their music.