[1][2][3] The film was directed and co-written by Bernard MacMahon and stars Nas, Alabama Shakes, Elton John, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Jack White, Taj Mahal, Ana Gabriel, Pokey LaFarge, Beck, Ashley Monroe, Los Lobos, The Avett Brothers, Bettye LaVette, Rhiannon Giddens, Raphael Saadiq, Edie Brickell, Steve Martin, and others.

[1] The film employed a diverse line-up of performers both ethnically and musically to represent the breadth of cultures that were first given a national platform through the invention of this recording machine.

[23] The film's title sequence begins with a series of cards announcing that “In 1925 the invention of electrical sound recording revolutionized the phonograph industry.

In 1926 this equipment was taken across America to record rural music for the very first time – blues, gospel, Cajun, country, Hawaiian, Native American and more…Only a few of these machines were made, and none are known to have survived.

[24] These scenes are interspersed with interviews with engineer Nicholas Bergh explaining how the machine works, its cultural and technological importance, how the 1920s field recording sessions were organized and the observations of the contemporary performers participating.

[25] Numerous potentially fatal disasters befall the machine during the sessions including the pulley cable that holds the weight breaking, which Jack White repairs at an upholstery shop, the amplifier overheating and blowing up during an Avett Brothers recording and a fraught 13 take session where Beck's 12-piece choir battle with an overdriven and distorting microphone.

[24] To capture the eclecticism of a 1920s recording session, a very diverse selection of artists is seen participating in the film, from Hispanic performers like Ana Gabriel and Los Lobos to Hawaiian steel guitar bands like The Hawaiians and Cajun acts like The Lost Bayou Ramblers, pop singers like Elton John, rock and roll groups like Alabama Shakes and Jack White and hip hop artists like Nas.

[32] The film had one secondary location, Sophie's Seat Design in Hollywood, California, which was featured when former upholsterer, Jack White, took the broken belt of the recording lathe to be re-sewn.

There were four main instances, a section revealing how the Western Electric Amplifier Rack and Microphone work, a section discussing the social impact the Western Electric Recording System had on the world and its eventual demise, the arrival of the final two musicians in the film, Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard, and finally, the closing credits.

Those were in a constant state of flux,”[13] Producer Allison McGourty commented “It was like a theatrical production—Bernard designed different lighting for each session to give [each song] a different feel.”[14] MacMahon said that he wanted the film to look like a painting “I wanted a rich color palette so it looks like a Velázquez painting,” he said, with the lighting falling off to heavy shadows in the corners of the picture to conceal the dolly tracks in the studio.

[16][6] Shot using macro lenses, the cinematography used in these sections was designed to take the viewer inside the inner workings of the 1920s Western Electric amplifier and microphone and the 1920s Scully cutting lathe, and to give the recording system a larger than life persona.

In 1925, Western Electric launched a new electronic recording process that could capture the nuances of the human voice and subtle instrumental shadings that had eluded the old acoustic systems.

[5] “All the individual items had to come from different places, often thousands of miles apart” he explained “I was able to confirm my progress by studying the few crude music studio pictures that started to show up.”[8] However, Bergh was missing a vital part of the set up – the pulley driven Scully lathe.

[3] The performers were cued into when they needed to start and stop playing by a light system operated by the sound engineer that hung in the live room.

[5][38] The Western Electric recording system favored small vocal led groups and this had a fundamental influence on them being the dominant musical aggregation to this day.

In the acoustic era, the lathe was connected to a large conical horn which the musicians had to gather around and sing and play at the loudest possible volume to create enough air pressure to physically vibrate a diaphragm attached to the cutting head.

[3][16][18][11][38][58] Joe Boyd wrote in The Guardian “for two hours we revel in filmed performances in front of that single microphone, as the camera lovingly follows the sound through anaconda-like cables to the cutting head.

As soon as the blank disc starts spinning, our soundtrack switches from the film-maker’s 21st-century handheld digital stereo to the glorious mono of the single microphone.

It’s an exquisite representation of the primitive power of American roots music and its enduring charm - music that stirs the soul.”[59] Greil Marcus in The Village Voice praised the film for “performances so good you can hardly listen without thinking of how close each recording is to not existing at all.”[60] Liz Jobey in the Financial Times hailed the film as “an extraordinary journey back through American song recording”[61] and Ludovic Hunter-Tilney in the same paper remarked that “New York Rapper Nas does a superb cover of the Memphis Jug Band’s “On the Road Again”, exposing the hip-hop blueprint within the 1928 stomper.”[62] Danny Eccleston in Mojo pointed out that “in one of the series’ most extraordinary moments, Elton John arrives toting a box-fresh lyric by Bernie Taupin and works it up in an instant, the song materializing in front of the viewers eyes before John and Jack White go for the take.

Among its highlights: A killer performance in Spanish by Ana Gabriel on a song originally done by Lydia Mendoza; Taj Mahal’s powerhouse take on Charley Patton’s “High Water Everywhere”; and Bettye LaVette's heartfelt recollections of being pushed away from early blues as “Uncle Tomish” in the ‘60s before she nails “When I Woke Up This Morning.”[63] Stephen Thompson at NPR wrote that “watching Alabama Shakes' members tear into this brief but potent cover of "Killer Diller", you get insights into the magic of the equipment and studio, the timelessness of the song, and Alabama Shakes' own genre-and era-busting charisma.”[64] James Moore in Gigwise observed “This need for greatness within that three-minute take is captured perfectly in the film, moments of silence before a blue light indicates “go” seeping with nail-biting tension and atmosphere.

Oh, and the sound...Wonderfully visceral, raw and untampered with, every original recording is layered with character and charisma, the beautifully complex machine always manages to draw the very best from its chosen subject.

Handled with wonderful care, romanticism and respect for the technology and the incredible talent it facilitated, the film is a viewing experience like no other and should be sought out by music fans of all tastes and ages.”[38] Brian McCollum in the Detroit Free Press wrote that the film “brings a lost musical era back to life”[10] and praised “a documentary which pairs a scholarly eye for detail with a buoyant fan passion.”[10] Chris Willman in Variety praised the film for being “all about romance” and posited that “the ultimate star of this show is a meticulously reconstructed recording machine from the 1920s that seems to have talismanic qualities on those who enter its orbit even 80 years after it was last in use.

This antiquated, cleaned up piece of studio equipment is so fetishistically photographed, it relegates the 19 musical acts that drop by for an old-school session to supporting players.

Bernard MacMahon, who championed this project for the better part of this century, makes the best case for this beautiful monstrosity of a machine representing the pre-homogeneity democratization of American music.”[16] Robert Lloyd in the Los Angeles Times confided "I don’t mind telling you I got a little emotional watching this, and you might too.

Lovers of music and early Americana alike will be fascinated by Bernard MacMahon and Allison McGourty’s The American Epic Sessions.

The enormous device, made of pulleys, flywheels, weights, and wood, was set up in a Los Angeles recording studio whose nondescript exterior gave no hint of the magic taking place inside.

There, the film is lit in nostalgic, burnished hues, and loving close-ups of the marvelous contraption in operation are interspersed with performances by such talents as The Avett Brothers, Los Lobos, Alabama Shakes, Taj Mahal, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, and Elton John.

Historically fascinating and musically entertaining, The American Epic Sessions was the perfect film to watch during SXSW at Austin’s historic Paramount Theatre, surrounded as we were by the ghosts of entertainers who’d graced the stage over its 100-year history.”[6] James Jackson in The Times wrote “none of these machines survive, but for this high-class film the engineering has been lovingly reassembled for today’s stars to try.

It’s all very muso, but completely enriching too – watching Elton John compose a song with Jack White is a thrill.”[66] Euan Ferguson, in The Observer summarized “I have to say all acquitted themselves phenomenally.

[72] It contained many performances not featured in the film, including "One Mic" by Nas, " “Mama's Angel Child" by Jack White, "Come on In My Kitchen" by Stephen Stills, and "Josephine" by Pokey Lafarge.