In a fantastic scene early in Tate Taylor’s Get On Up, James Brown (Chadwick Boseman) and his band are on a plane in Vietnam in 1968, on their way to entertain troops, and they are taking heavy fire. While the other musicians grip onto whatever they can and pray for their lives, Brown leans casually into the cockpit, giving orders to the pilots and letting them know that nothing can kill him. Even as explosions buffet the aircraft from side to side and one of the engines catches fire, Brown swaggers around the fuselage as if his own obdurate confidence is all it takes to keep him in control. And it works. Taylor’s film operates according to the same principle. Get On Up maintains a spirited, headlong momentum that mostly obliterates its own shortcomings.