Billy Preston was a genius—an organ prodigy who brought soul and fire to music’s greatest stages. But behind the radiant smile and unparalleled talent was a man burdened by inner turmoil.
Preston, a devout church-raised musician, was gay — a truth he kept hidden throughout his life. What should have been a source of self-acceptance instead became a source of shame, a conflict that shadowed his brilliant career.
Many first saw Preston in “Let It Be,” where his electric keyboard added a soulful pulse to Beatles classics like “Don’t Let Me Down” and “Get Back.” But it was during the Concert for Bangladesh in 1971 that Preston stepped fully into the spotlight.
Taking center stage, he delivered an unforgettable performance of “That’s the Way God Planned It,” a gospel-rock anthem that lifted the audience at Madison Square Garden into something like a revival. His exuberance was magnetic, his movements ecstatic, as if music itself had overtaken him.
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Paris Barclay’s documentary, “Billy Preston: That’s the Way God Planned It,” opens with this transcendent moment, reminding us of a performer who seemed to channel divine inspiration. Directed with sensitivity and insight, Barclay traces Preston’s journey, from his days as a child prodigy — captured charming audiences on “The Nat King Cole Show” — to his role as the “Fifth Beatle” during the “Get Back” sessions. A sought-after session musician, he played with legends Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, the Rolling Stones, and Sly Stone. His own hits, like “Will It Go Round in Circles” and “Outa-Space” were joyful bursts of funk, yet Preston’s career never reached the heights his talent deserved.
The documentary explores why. Raised in the Black church, Preston’s connection to gospel was central to his music, but it also complicated his ability to live openly. Billy Porter, featured in the film, reflects on the culture of silence surrounding sexuality in the church — a silence Preston internalized. His struggle to reconcile his identity with his faith added layers to his artistry but also weighed heavily on his spirit.
Preston’s personal demons eventually caught up with him. Trauma from his youth, hinted at during his time on tour with Little Richard, loomed large, as did his battles with addiction. Cocaine and later crack derailed his career, while mounting debts and personal isolation deepened his troubles. Even so, his brilliance shone through in moments — on stage with Mick Jagger or in his clavinet-driven masterpiece “Outa-Space,” which helped define funk for a generation.
Preston’s story is one of contrasts: a man whose radiant performances masked deep pain, whose gifts reshaped music yet whose identity remained obscured. He passed away in 2006 at just 59, his legacy one of unparalleled talent and unfulfilled potential.
Barclay’s film doesn’t flinch from the darkness of Preston’s life but celebrates the light he brought to the world — a reminder that his music, much like his life, was extraordinary, flawed, and profoundly human.
“Billy Preston: That’s the Way God Planned It” recently screened at DOC NYC, America’s largest documentary film festival. The film has garnered critical acclaim, with some considering it to have all the right elements for a possible spot on the Oscar nomination shortlist.
