Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings in Miss Sharon Jones! (Starz Digital)

Sharon Jones is a firecracker and a modern-day queen of soul. The stocky neofunk belter has defied those who wrote her off as too short and too black. She’s bounced back from a low period as a guard at Rikers Island to recording instant classics such as “100 Days, 100 Nights” with her band, the Dap-Kings, and packing houses in the United States and Europe and shaking her booty to cheering crowds. She wields an upbeat, fearless persona. So when cancer pays her a call at age 57, the disease casts a shadow over the hard-won gains she’s made.

Two-time Academy Award–winning filmmaker Barbara Kopple follows Jones on her journey through illness and recovery, catching glimpses of a stalwart trouper knocked off balance. While undergoing chemotherapy, the singer holds back tears as she watches in the mirror her head being shaved. Financial pressures mount during her convalescence, too. Like many entertainers, Jones supports a family who rely on her earnings, and she’s itching to get back on the road to drum up some cash and keep the Dap-Kings working.

Jones wastes no time with “why me?” self-pity. Her cheeky, raffish personality catches fire for the camera when she tries on wigs to cover up her shorn pate—she makes fun of the Jheri curl and blurts out “Whitney” at the sight of herself in a demure bob. Other times we see her struggle with fatigue at band practice and plaintively rage at a cancelled dinner. Her bandmates shrug off her borderline tantrum, deflecting diva behavior with seen-it-all laid-back cool. If Jones is this formidable in cancer recovery, you can only imagine what she must be like in full throttle.

In an era of promotional blogs and social media spin, it is unusual to come as close to an entertainer as Miss Sharon Jones! allows us to. Kopple’s unobtrusive all-access direction leads us into sickrooms, bedrooms, manager’s offices, and band rehearsals. The film feels immediate and real in revealing a sturdy soul at a scary crossroads.

One elephant in the room does stand out, unmentioned in the narrative. We see Jones belting out a hymn at a black church, but it is apparent that her fan base, band, friends, and benefactors are mostly white. It might have been helpful for the star—or someone else—to address this fact. Perhaps Kopple wants to avoid any political questions for a more straightforward focus on the performer’s individual journey, making the film less controversial but more intimate. Like the challenges Jones has faced, the issue may just be just part of the it-is-what-it-is vibe of this particular film—why ask why? After all, Jones has two priorities: making great music and fighting cancer. The rest is noise.