My wife, Deonn, and I secured our seats to the popular Bob Marley movie on the day before arriving at the packed Speciality Cinema last Sunday afternoon. Both of us came of age in the 1970s when Bob was rising to “lively up ourselves”.

This declaration of my bias offers you some “salt” for my review of this autobiographical movie, with its iconic soundtrack emblematic of a generation.

I had read an autobiography on Marley about six months ago, so Deonn had to “shush” me when I unable to resist the urge to share.

I was blessed to have been afforded a deep appreciation of the context for the film from a C.L.R. James course at Howard University decades ago, which provided a synopsis on Jamaican history and offered a background of the evolution of the Rastafarian movement.

The perspective on that religion, for me, ties the story of Marley’s 39 years together wonderfully in that superb film. Bob’s close friend — Chris Blackwell, from a well-off White family — had narrowly survived death through the extraordinary efforts of a Rasta, resulting in Blackwell’s spiritual transformation. (This was context that the film didn’t cover.)

The movie opens with a 1976 Jamaica embroiled in violent political conflict between Michael Manley’s People’s National Party and Edward Seaga’s Jamaica Labour Party, resulting in deaths and much burning and looting. Marley decides to perform at “Smile Jamaica”, a concert organised to promote peace. In the concert’s lead-up, Marley’s home is attacked by gunmen. Wife Rita is seriously injured and Bob slightly wounded. The incident causes soul-searching, but Marley decides to go ahead and perform. However, after a few tunes, Bob decides to leave the concert and Jamaica.

Rita takes the children to Delaware and Bob and the band travel to London. In the cold, damp environs of that metropolis, the musicians undergo a midlife crisis for a considerable period, surviving with financial support from Blackwell. Marley revives and experiences an epiphany while overhearing the soundtrack of the movie Exodus. That resulted in his scripting the classic reggae anthem of “the movement of Jah people ...” When Rita was convinced to join the band in London, One Love was reborn.

The movie is wonderfully knitted together, with Bob’s visions, reflecting on challenging chapters of his younger self. Encounters with his absent White father … the dangers of a teen living in Trenchtown … his love of Rita and music ... injustices of the studio “biggas” ... refuge offered by the Rastafarian community.

Exodus opens, urging reflection, because “There’s a natural mystic in the air ... if you listen you will hear… (but) … don’t ask me why?” Also included in the iconic album, Bob implores: “Open your eyes and look within, are you satisfied with the life you’re living.” He went on to ease tension between Rita and himself, asking her to “turn your lights down low”. Then Bob encourages the human family, with “Don’t worry ’bout a ting, every little ting is gonna to be all right”. As well as asking us all to move together: “Walk…walk...walk...forward.”

With the success of Exodus under their belts, Bob and the Wailers peaked on a European tour before deciding to return to Jamaica with the urging of Rita and an invitation from the two main Jamaican gang protagonists, rebooting the idea of a peace concert called “One Love”.

It’s on this high that Marley learns that he has terminal cancer, but while “he who feels it knows it”, the 20th century’s “people’s poet” turns lemons into lemonade by continuing to sow seeds of “One Love”.

Ever the champion of learning community, I was reminded of the need to promote a shift in culture, notably in the sphere of education. I could see that this film captured the story of Bob, who is emblematic of some of the most marginalised people in the world and who goes on to inspire millions in every corner with his music.

The film could be used by families, schools and community groups as something of a “set book” to be the subject of a dialogue from various perspectives, including historical analysis, family relations, the implications of cannabis and societal power dynamics.

• Glenn Fubler represents Imagine Bermuda