QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM TALLINN
Bob Marley was an inspiration to millions, spinning tales about peace in a world of constant unrest. He inspired many to take up Rastafarianism; one such convert was his lawyer Diane Jobson. Writer/director Amanda Sans Pantling catches up with this key figure in reggae, showing what the woman has been up to since the songwriter’s death.
“I’ve always been a frustrated artist,” she chuckles on a chatshow. What is readily apparent is that Jobson is a fascinating person, with or without Marley’s shadow. Defending membes of the “ghetto poor”, the lawyer brought an amiable face to the court rooms, speaking up for the disfranchised and disadvantaged. Confident in her appearance, she declines makeup on the aftermentioned television appearance, suggesting how she is will define the way the public must see her.
Fans of the singer-songwriter will recognise her from such films as Marley (Kevin Macdonald, 2012),but she insists her impint is at best minimal. Now in her 80’s, Jobson drives around the Jamaican roads, her stoic eyes peering over the dashboard. In a comical aside to the camera, the eponymous heroine insists that no tobacco should ever enter a spliff; “It spoil the herb.” One of her pals is a caucasian who speaks in the same dialect, the pair reflecting on their youthful days of “long eyelashes” and care-free attitudes.
There are,admittedly, too many lingering shots of the ocean, which only slow down the feature, but the pacing ramps up whenever there are people onscreen. Miss Jobson is very, very funny in places. Meeting a machine-gun toting soldier wearing gloves, the lawyer mocks his apparent bravery in the name of fashion. When Jobson meets clients, it is done on paper and pen; there isn’t a single computer in her domicile. It’s clear she genuinely cares where people go, as some of the facilities give “scabies” to the inmates.
Decades after British influence, middle-class privilege still walks across the country. A white woman clumsily asks Jobson about her conscience representing criminals, leading the lawyer to snap: “Have you seen the ghettos?” By continuing on this crusade she has set for herself, the titular character feels she is doing what is just and right. Avoiding the spotlight, Jobson confesses she hasn’t seen a movie “regarding two years of Bob’s life when he was in England.” Nevertheless, she owes her life to Marley, for showing the path to God.
Rastafarianism, the audience is told, relies on defending those who cannot do it for themselves. A life spent aiding others is one that honours the religion. Later in the documentary, the crew meet up with Marley’s son Bob Jr. : “The only one of the children who don’t smoke.” The surviving family members praise her as a “sister and auntie” who looked after them when the pater familias passed away. Some of Marley’s relatives took up painting, guided by Jobson.
Apropos of form, the soundtrack is peppered with bass-heavy reggae songs. People let the hood of the cars down, and blast out the tunes. Jobson looks gleeful uncovering a cave she frequented as a young girl. Looking longinly at the incredible structure that has preceded them, the heroine senses with some relief that this natural site will long outlive her. Humans can only exist for a fraction of time. It is up to the individual to live it the best they can, with as few regrets as any could muster. Driving to the town where “Bob grew up”, she is recognised from a car: “Miss Diane.” She may not be a superstar like her musical client was, but in this part of the world, she has everything she needs.
