Once Were Brothers hits all the notes for your typical rock doc: coarse but colorful commentary from older rock stars, archival footage of musicians stepping off small planes or running into cabs to dodge press, a healthy dose of sex and drug references, and of course, an incredible soundtrack. Beyond that, your enjoyment of the film depends on your relationship with The Band.
Two months after its global premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival’s opening gala, Once Were Brothers debuted in the US as DOC NYC’s opening night film at the SVA Theater on Wednesday night.
The Band, an influential roots rock group and major players in what came to be known as Americana, got their start backing up Canadian rockabilly singer Ronnie Hawkins. They backed up Bob Dylan next when he decided to tour with an electric band, a famously unpopular decision. Crowds booed the act every night, and drummer/vocalist Levon Helm decided to temporarily leave the scene. But a couple years after the Dylan tours ended, Helm returned and the group came into their own with their debut album, Music from Big Pink. It was then that they unironically took on the moniker The Band.
Robbie Robertson, The Band’s guitarist and primary songwriter provides the main narration. We follow him from his roots as an ambitious whiz kid who managed to catch the attention of Ronnie Hawkins, to The Band’s final concert with Robertson in 1976, The Last Waltz.
It’s worth mentioning that Roher was not the documentary’s initial director. Creative differences drove the project apart before Roher’s bid caught Robertson’s attention. Robertson must have seen a lot of himself in Roher, a scrappy then-24-year-old filmmaker with a barebones production team and – what luck! – a dream of telling Robertson’s story.
Once Were Brothers is based on Robertson’s book, Testimony, a title that suggests one of the narrative’s goals might be to set the record straight. In the interest of keeping a tight storyline and runtime, the documentary chooses to focus on Robertson’s time with The Band, not bothering to mention his later career endeavors or The Band’s reformation without him. But even with this slightly narrowed focus, the film often feels lacking in depth and introspection as we pan smoothly from one exciting anecdote to another.
Taking the documentary at its word is awfully tempting, and we have little choice since just two of The Band’s five members are still alive, Robertson and the generally reclusive Garth Hudson. It’s Robertson, with raw talent, hard work, and vision that helps lead The Band to major fame and success. When other members of the band lose interest in roots rock or turn to hard drugs, Robertson is the only adult in the room. He picks up the songwriting slack and keeps everyone afloat, even while raising his family at the same time. But he’s careful not to overstate his role by emphasizing the collaborative nature the group. He’s also generous with his compliments of the other members’ musical abilities and, in hindsight, deeply sympathetic of their drug problems.
The narrative sets up a clean rebuttal to Levon Helm’s contention in his own autobiography that Robertson broke up The Band, stole songwriting credits, and generally played up or fabricated his leading role in the group. In this context, Robertson’s comments about Helm feel less genuine. Even in the early days, suggests Robertson, Helm could be jealous of things like Bob Dylan’s supposed preference of Robertson to the other members of The Band. By the end of the story, as much sympathy and forgiveness is lavished upon Helm, the film has taken a definitive stance on the disagreement and simply bows its head at what a shame it is that reconciliation is impossible (Helm passed away in 2012).
Even with an uncertain narrative arc, Roher’s skill as a dogged researcher and interviewer shines through. He digs up just about every piece of archival footage and photograph out there, dazzling us with intimate scenes of The Band with Bob Dylan or passionate performances including one in San Francisco where they performed with a hypnotist onstage to keep Robertson from falling ill. A revolving door of all-star musicians reflect on Robertson and The Band including Bruce Springsteen, Taj Mahal, Van Morrison, and Eric Clapton, who loved The Band so much he was desperate to audition for them back in the day.
Once Were Brothers achieves what it’s meant to achieve – a watertight retelling of The Band’s story through Robbie Robertson’s eyes. It does so with style and surprisingly high production value, even if it doesn’t dig much into some of The Band’s most interesting dynamics and conflicts.
