![‘Earth, Wind & Fire (To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight Of The World)’ Review: Questlove Sticks To The Greatest Hits In His Latest Music Doc [Tribeca]](https://cdn.theplaylist.net/wp-content/uploads/2026/06/08131617/Earth-Wind-Fire-Bug-16x9-01-1.jpg "‘Earth, Wind & Fire (To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight Of The World)’ Review: Questlove Sticks To The Greatest Hits In His Latest Music Doc [Tribeca]")
Questlove’s documentary tribute to the genre-exploding band Earth, Wind & Fire falls somewhere between the stylistic interests of his first two non-fiction efforts. (With respect to his zippy salute to 50 years of music on “Saturday Night Live,” that was a brand exercise.) “Summer of Soul” mostly let the joy of live performance carry the day as never-before-seen footage lent itself naturally to the vibes of a concert film. “Sly Lives!,” on the other hand, argued a specific thesis about how the world was not ready for the genius of Sly and the Family Stone.
As suggested by the dialectic established by its parenthetical subtitle, “To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight of the World,” “Earth, Wind & Fire” tries to have it both ways. But there’s a notable lack of focus as Questlove tries to straddle these distinct filmmaking modes. The result is a film that never feels like it approximates the greatness of its subject.
But a band as great as Earth, Wind & Fire brings a high floor to how entertaining a Wikipedia-style journey through their history and discography can be. Every five minutes or so brings a new reminder of how many of their songs have soundtracked the last fifty years of American life. From funk-forward jams like “Shining Star” to disco bops like “Boogie Wonderland” and electronic hits like “Let’s Groove,” the group’s work speaks for itself as both a formidable and varied musical output.
Questlove, whose documentaries have rightfully made him the present-day pop scholar of music history, takes special care to note the various influences that make up their musical DNA. He’s most fascinated by pinpointing where they evolved from, especially when it’s a more surprising source like jazz pianist Ramsey Lewis, and who they inspired in turn. The film’s standout moment comes from an interview with Stevie Wonder, who admits that Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Shining Star” was the impetus to write his own song “I Wish” – as a stunned Questlove admits how stunned he is by the revelation off-camera.
Wonder is one star in a constellation of talking heads who form the spine of “Earth, Wind & Fire.” Questlove starts with quite the flex by having the first voice in the film come from none other than Barack Obama. The former president speaks as both a fan and someone who appreciated their contributions to the form enough to book them as the first musical artist in his White House. The assembled coterie of collaborators and appreciators strikes a balance of speaking to the band’s creation, reception, and enduring legacy.
But there’s one voice notably missing: that of Maurice White, the group’s founder, who passed away in 2016. Questlove does his best to conjure his power and vision through archival footage and the recollections of friends and family who saw beyond his public persona. But the frontman’s absence does not feel like a structuring element in the documentary, and it creates an imbalance in perspective. Maurice’s eclectic embrace of musical styles and other artistic touchstones, be they astrology or Afrofuturism, comes across more cerebrally than emotionally.
Whether this missing perspective dictated Questlove’s storytelling style or merely dovetailed from it, the impact is similar. “Earth, Wind & Fire” is a documentary that tells rather than shows the virtuosity on display. As the film speed-runs through decades of work in two hours, the edit constantly intersperses expert commentary inside performances of classics such as “Getaway” and “Reasons.” It’s so busy moving us from one song to the next that it rarely stops to let the audience savor a tune in full.
This zigging and zagging has an effect beyond diluting the pure pleasure of taking in the music of Earth, Wind & Fire. It ultimately undermines Questlove’s ability to convey the larger message that the group deserves more credit than simply soundtracking some of life’s happiest moments. If anything unites the director’s first three documentaries, it’s their invitation to reconsider how music from Black artists is often enjoyed but rarely exalted or examined in the proper context.
A thread running through “Earth, Wind & Fire” is Maurice White connecting the spirit of his musical inspiration with how it would eventually be sold. He believed in something universal and cosmic uniting people (“To Be Celestial”). That meant that a band forged in genres beloved by Black listeners would eventually need to break out and reach white ones (“That’s the Weight of the World”).
No one needs to watch the documentary to know he succeeded. But the documentary scarcely bothers to interrogate what it took – or what it cost – to make that happen. This gives the proceedings the sensation of being walked through an authorized tour of Earth, Wind & Fire’s greatest hits rather than the true reappreciation the group deserves. [B-]
“Earth, Wind & Fire (To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight of the World)” opened at the Tribeca Festival on Wednesday, June 3, and will debut on HBO Max on Saturday, June 7.
