Johnny B. Bad

The first step in putting this project together was for all of us to meet with Chuck to make sure we were all on the same page. So Stephanie, her line producer Thomas Adelman, Keith and I flew to Chicago where he was performing at the Chicago Blues Festival. This experience turned out to be prescient in defining the anarchic nature of what this project would become. We met Chuck backstage at the festival before he was about to go on stage. Being a hustling producer, Stephanie had encouraged the promoter to have photographers present to capture Keith and Chuck together, hoping this would encourage both men to commit publicly to our film. It was interesting to watch Stephanie work. She boldly suggested to the promoter that he invite Keith on stage at the end of Chuck's set for an impromptu jam. Chuck eyed Stephanie coldly, but he didn't object, nodding his approval. At the end of Chuck's set, Keith walked out on stage, and the audience went insane, giving the Rolling Stone an ovation that dwarfed what they had given Chuck earlier. I watched Chuck's reaction. Ever the showman, he welcomed Keith with open arms, but I also detected a veiled resentment, a clear slap in the face that this second-generation rock-n-roller was a much bigger star than he was. Keith righteously put the audience in their place. I stole every lick this man ever created. He's the best ever. Later, Keith told me that the last time they'd met, Chuck had punched him in the face, mistaking him for a troublesome fan. While Keith was good-natured about this insult, I could tell he was still sensitive about the incident. At that moment, I saw what the theme of this film should be—creator versus pupil. Keith the pupil, who had risen to greater heights of fame and fortune than his mentor, Chuck, who had actually invented the art form. After the concert, we had planned to sit down in the restaurant at our hotel to discuss the film, but Chuck insisted that we have the meeting in his Winnebago, a huge motor-home he'd driven up from his home in St. Louis. When Stephanie tried to protest, suggesting that we take a limo, Chuck laid down the law. Nobody drives Chuck Berry but Chuck Berry. Instead of sitting down to a quiet meal, he pulled his giant rig into a McDonald's for take-out burgers and shakes. We ate as he drove us around his old Chicago haunts, past chess records on Michigan Avenue, where he literally turned the wrong direction onto this major Chicago thoroughfare, blowing his air horn to warn six lanes of oncoming traffic to get out of his way. Chuck was serving notice. You are all in for one wild ride. Forewarned, none of us backed down. Personally, I was thrilled. Chuck was more quirky, charming, and human than I'd ever imagined. I knew he'd be a fantastic on-camera personality—my movie star. I told him honestly that I was not there to do a hatch-job slash expose on his life, but neither was I interested in doing a puff-piece. I saw this film as an opportunity of creating a lasting legacy of his career, and I wanted him to speak with me candidly about his life and music. To my delight, he agreed to let me in. We cemented our relationship with a handshake. Of course, anyone who'd worked with Chuck Berry over the years knew that his commitments and handshakes were malleable, but I was a novice and had to discover his mercurial style for myself. We recruited an incredibly talented group of artists, both in front of and behind the camera, who had all come to celebrate the brilliance of this man who had indelibly influenced our lives. But, to our amazement, Chuck seemed to sabotage our efforts at every turn, refusing to appear on the first day of shooting until he was paid an extra $25,000 in cash, delivered in a brown-paper bag. When he finally appeared, seven hours later, he was totally charming and cooperative. He pulled me aside conspiratorially and said, "'Taylor, this has nothing to do with you and me. It's just business.' Actually, I normally produce and direct my films, but in this instance I was happy that I did not take producer credit. It was up to Stephanie and associate producer Albert Spivak to satisfy Chuck's avaricious demands each day, which allowed me to work with him on purely creative issues. I'm sure it preserved our relationship. Still, he could be totally exasperating creatively. On the second day of shooting, he told me he wouldn't be available on Wednesday. I've got a gig at the Ohio State Fair. Shock! I protested. Chuck, I've only got six days to shoot this entire film, including the concert. I need every minute of shooting time to make it work. Unfortunately, my dramatics didn't faze Chuck. I've got a contract."