Rick Korn's profile of singer-songwriter Harry Chapin feels like two documentaries in one. It's not that there isn't any common ground between the two, but that the halves don't fit together as well as they could. The first examines his music career, while the second focuses on his efforts to end world hunger. A native New Yorker, Chapin wasn't born to wealth, but he was privileged in other respects, and he didn't take it for granted. His uncle, direct cinema pioneer Richard Leacock, for instance, influenced his interest in filmmaking, and Chapin would go on to direct an Oscar-nominated documentary short, 1968's Legendary Champions, but it isn't clear where he studied film and whether he planned to continue. Perhaps, he just didn't have time.
Harry's mother, Elspeth, who had six kids, raised him largely on her own (she had two with her second husband). His father, Jim, a jazz drummer, spent much of his time on the road, providing a precursor for the signature number "Cat's in the Cradle," in which a father regrets time away from his son. With his siblings Tom and Steve, Harry formed the Chapin Brothers. In archival footage, he acknowledges that he was more of a storyteller than a musician. When they were young, 1955's Weavers Live at Carnegie Hall left the greatest musical impression. Chapin and Pete Seeger, the quartet's most famous member, would bond in the years to come over a shared passion for folk music and social justice. The Chapin Brothers were just starting to make a name for themselves when Harry took off for six months to make his film, leading them to kick him out of the trio. It's unclear if there were any hard feelings, but Chapin's solo act proved so successful that a bidding war broke out, leading to the most lucrative record deal to date. Two other artists who found his encouragement meaningful, Billy Joel and Pat Benatar, remember him with fondness.
He could have gone on to have a conventional career, but instead, he set out to eradicate world hunger, launching three organizations that still exist today. WhyHunger cofounder Bill Ayres, Elektra Records head Jac Holzman, and Vermont Senator Patrick Leahy recall that he played so many benefit concerts his label was starting to worry (Korn neglects to note that he switched from Elektra to Boardwalk Records in 1980). Bandmates also express concern that they were losing out on paid opportunities. Just when things were coming to a head, 38-year-old Chapin lost his life in 1981 due to a collision on the Long Island Expressway. Korn ends by looking at his humanitarian legacy, which is certainly commendable, but this portion of the film feels more promotional than informative, not least when there’s no mention of his TV and theatrical work, like the off-Broadway musical Cotton Patch Gospel. When in Doubt, Do Something works best as an introduction to a unique entertainment figure, but a more comprehensive portrait would have served his talents better. A strong optional purchase. Aud: H, C, P.