This is not really a review of the film as such. As a documentary about a rock band, it's fine: just about average, I'd say. One could argue that it's a little too busy--sometimes distractingly so--from a visual standpoint, but I won't quibble about that. (At the very least, it ensures that the film doesn't have a staid PBS look.) Those who already are fans of The Velvet Underground will enjoy it; nonfans are unlikely to be converted. There's no substitute for locking the door, cranking up your stereo and hearing the music in all its weird glory for the first time. The VU were amazing, but the film gives you more of a sense of time and place than of the music itself, and this was a band that largely *transcended* time and place.
My problem is with the fact that director Todd Haynes glossed over Lou Reed's traumatic experience with electroshock therapy because his sister felt that it reflected negatively on their parents. Since Reed's death in 2013, she has stridently maintained that it was unfair of him to criticize Mr. & Mrs. Reed for subjecting him to electroshock therapy in his teens because, at that time, the treatment was not well understood and Lou's parents didn't realize how frightening and unpleasant it was going to be for him. He repeatedly referred to the experience in both song lyrics and interviews throughout his career, but his sister feels that he exaggerated its impact. And there you have it. You're not supposed to say mean things about my mommy and daddy, you guys, and if you do then I'm taking my ball and going home!
In the first place, Reed's sister isn't the one who had to endure the treatments, so she can afford to be a tongue-clucking backseat driver. Secondly, Lou is no longer here to speak for himself. Thirdly, the experience was incredibly significant to his body of work as a lyricist and to his identity as a musical artist. To dismiss that significance for any reason is asinine; the horror of electroshock is an unsubtractable part of Lou Reed's story. But Merrill was allowed to subtract it because, you know, bourgeois embarrassment and stuff.
Deal-breaker.
My problem is with the fact that director Todd Haynes glossed over Lou Reed's traumatic experience with electroshock therapy because his sister felt that it reflected negatively on their parents. Since Reed's death in 2013, she has stridently maintained that it was unfair of him to criticize Mr. & Mrs. Reed for subjecting him to electroshock therapy in his teens because, at that time, the treatment was not well understood and Lou's parents didn't realize how frightening and unpleasant it was going to be for him. He repeatedly referred to the experience in both song lyrics and interviews throughout his career, but his sister feels that he exaggerated its impact. And there you have it. You're not supposed to say mean things about my mommy and daddy, you guys, and if you do then I'm taking my ball and going home!
In the first place, Reed's sister isn't the one who had to endure the treatments, so she can afford to be a tongue-clucking backseat driver. Secondly, Lou is no longer here to speak for himself. Thirdly, the experience was incredibly significant to his body of work as a lyricist and to his identity as a musical artist. To dismiss that significance for any reason is asinine; the horror of electroshock is an unsubtractable part of Lou Reed's story. But Merrill was allowed to subtract it because, you know, bourgeois embarrassment and stuff.
Deal-breaker.