Road Less Traveled: A Powerful Film Explores a Seminal Superstar and His City

                                                           

 Picture Pendergrass at dawn, surveying Philly like a modern-day Musa/Moses on a solitary mountaintop. Rolling piano keys and soulful organ chords signal a call to prayer as he nudges society awake from its mental slumber. Recognizing the world is slipping away into Sodom-like sea of war, hatred and poverty, Teddy stresses that there is no time for looking back. The old ways are extinct, and the future is within our grasp….

The aptly named Teddy Pendergrass documentary If You Don’t Know Me arrives just in time to celebrate the late soul singer’s criminally under-recognized legacy. The film is part of a loose trilogy, coming on the heels of a 1997 Behind the Music episode and a more recent Unsung segment that aired in 2010.  

If You Don’t Know Me promises to resonate with Pendergrass devotees. The million-dollar question is how do you package his seminal achievements within the context of today’s industry?

For those who came up on Luther Vandross, TP is the faceless voice booming from the record collections of older siblings, aunts and uncles, mothers and fathers. A mysterious bearded face on an album cover. An urban legend. A dominant player in a see-it-to-believe-it league where precious little footage exists. Pendergrass is early Julius Erving---the template to real-time superstars like Michael Jackson and Jay-Z.  

Today’s contemporary artists leave no monetary stone unturned. They seek out multiple revenue streams. They own their master recordings. They forge relationships with corporate sponsors. Their career and financial windfalls make Pendergrass’ story of hard-fought success unfathomable. In this era of streaming, TP’s feat of being first to record five consecutive platinum albums is of little consequence to a Spotify and iTunes generation. 

It's kind of like trying to explain the significance Wilt’s 100-point game to fans from Steph Curry’s smallball era. How do you make the Teddy Bear’s story palatable to a whole new generation who can’t distinguish TP from T-Pain? (believe it or not---some people think they’re the same or related)

You make it plain. If you’ve ever watched a Farrakhan tape or attended a neighborhood mosque, you’ve heard those words. Part catchphrase /part strategy, the term is a collective affirmation from Muslim believers when the delivery of Nation of Islam teachings reached a fever pitch. While MLK’s glib pontifications aspired to erect a diverse utopia, NOI plain-speak was bent on removing spirituality’s cloak of ambiguity.

If You Don’t Know Me does just that. It’s direct and straight to the point like Pendergrass himself. It peels back layers of a life and career that remained under the radar during a time before paparazzi and social media. First-hand accounts are provided by family members, friends, partners and colleagues. Pendergrass' surviving master audio tapes double as personal narratives that are revealing.

The city of Philadelphia is the film's centerpiece. In the absence of Pendergrass---gone for nearly a decade, the city shines like a capable understudy stepping in for a leading man 

Philly suburb Gladwyne graces the opening aerial shot. Teddy’s 34-room mansion tucked away on Philadelphia’s tony Main Line is in plain view. His elegant Rolls Royce Corniche navigates a winding driveway and glides onto Crosby Brown Road before a re-creation of his tragic car accident kicks things off. 

The camera cuts to a newly solo Pendergrass chatting up Sammy Davis on the talk show circuit about his hometown. He calls it “Filthydelphia,” It’s a precursor to the Illadelphia tag created by future Philly young bulls describing Philly’s rough and tumble underside.

 North Philly’s decaying urban blight lights a fire under Pendergrass. It propels him from high school dropout to millionaire status in a decade. If You Don’t Know Me finds Pendergrass keeping it real way before the term was invented. 

When success hits, Teddy doesn’t head for Beverly Hills or Bel Air, he stays put. He’s just as comfortable hanging uptown with shadowy Black Mafia gangsters as he is courtside at Sixers games or partying at Elan, the ritzy Warwick Hotel’s posh disco in Rittenhouse Square----the same upscale neighborhood where Pendergrass loses a substance-fueled party-till-you-drop showdown with the man who’d ultimately become his manager.

Philly may have been Teddy’s playground, but it was Frank Rizzo’s town. The polarizing police commissioner turned mayor’s suspect policing tactics plagued the Black community for years. If You Don’t Know Me details Teddy’s run-ins with law enforcement dating back to his childhood. At the height of his popularity, he’s a victim of police brutality and racial profiling. These revelations expose Philly’s hypocrisy and ambivalence. 

Instead of being honored as Philly’s favorite son, statues of Rocky and Rizzo stand in his (and Joe Frazier's) place.

The film explores the never-ending drama that dogged Teddy's life. Upper middle-class Germantown is the scene of a tragic unsolved murder by individuals looking to attach themselves to Teddy’s rising star and willing to eliminate the competition to do so. In an ironic twist of fate, the crime scene is minutes away from the scene of Teddy’s horrific car crash that changes the fortunes of the paralyzed soul singer and hometown label Philadelphia International Records forever. 

If You Don’t Know Me is a story of a legendary artist rooted in Black music’s past and a bridge to its future. A perfect companion to Philly Soulmate Billy Paul’s Am I Black Enough for You? it’s the ultimate Philadelphia story and a perfect canvas to showcase the vibrant artistry that is a true reflection of the City of Brotherly Love and Sisterly Affection.