Time to 'Hail' this documentary about the late great Chuck Berry

Music lovers all over the world are celebrating the life and legacy of Chuck Berry this week -- the rock legend, who arguably invented the most enduring genre of music of the past half century and then some, has died at age 90. And even though he lived an incredibly productive life, he brought so much joy to the planet, that it feels like he's gone too soon.

For fans, and for the uninitiated, this is an ideal moment to revisit an incredible documentary about Berry's eccentric personality and unique talent: Hail! Hail! Rock n' Roll.

The 1987 film, which came out as Berry was about to enter his early 60s, shows the wily rocker in rare fighting form, and it is also a tribute to the black musicians who never fully got the credit they deserved for getting rock n' roll music off the ground.

The film also features the droll Bo Diddley and the hysterical Little Richard as a bit of a Greek chorus. They describe how daunting it was just to get a contract only to see their music co-opted by white artists who then sold more records by mimicking their style.

Berry, in his shrewdness and finickiness, seems to have risen above the constraints that race and prejudice put on him. He became a hard man -- the film shows him dressing down Keith Richards, Eric Clapton and others for not playing or singing the way he likes -- but he also became an unapologetic original, sly and sophisticated in his thinking, and settled in his own skin.

In one of the film's most exhilarating and oddly moving moments, an off-screen tour manager describes Berry's routine on the road (which he carried on for decades), traveling to gigs solo with a guitar and a single suitcase, driving himself to the show and playing with whatever local band could learn his songs.

A young Bruce Springsteen describes what a rollercoaster ride it was to play back-up behind a legend -- Berry intimidates every other rock star who comes in his wake -- it's telling that everyone from John Lennon to Bob Dylan have bowed down to his genius.

Berry approached his seemingly simple music methodically, even in a calculated way, to maximize its commercial appeal and accessibility.

And besides his musicianship, Berry was also an underrated singer, an unlikely sex symbol, obsessed with money and a deeply, profoundly charismatic person and performer. In our national tendency to commodify our heroes and buff their rough edges (MLK was more than his "I Have a Dream" speech for instance) there is a tendency to attach Berry's name to a few classic hit singles, and silly moments like the culturally insensitive homage in the Back to the Future films.

But Berry was not just a hitmaker. He was a soft-spoken poet. He was an embittered. He was warm and cold, depending on his mood. And he never, ever forgot what he came from -- meaning he has great recall for every slight and success.

Which makes him an ideal subject for a film like this, and director Taylor Hackford (An Officer and a Gentlemen, Ray) wisely puts an emphasis on Berry's patter and high-energy performing. Now his film will live on as a stunning ode and rollicking document of one of music's great iconoclasts.