They say history is written by the victors, and in the case of the history of The Band, this tale is told by the last man standing, Robbie Robertson. (Garth Hudson is still around, but doesn't participate, which is telling.)
Apparently, Scorsese felt that his earlier concert film, The Last Waltz, didn't adequately sing enough of Robertson's praises (at the expense of the other members); now, as producer, he brings us another installment of Robbie's hagiography in narrative form.
It's definitely a tale worth telling, and the photos and abbreviated unreleased tunes are a treat for the fans. It's just too bad that other members weren't here to contribute, much as they did in the making of The Band's best songs.
That void is filled by Robbie's wife, some of the crewmembers, a couple of photographers, and a few of Robbie's famous musician buddies. Not the most impartial witnesses, in my mind.
Some of the criticisms Levon Helm claimed in his autobiography are addressed, charitably and in a respectful manner so as not to appear to be speaking ill of the dead, but the dismissal of his claims are slightly condescending and dismissive, the bitter ravings of an envious, drug-addled, damaged man.
Regarding those contributions by the other band members (categorized as merely arrangements to Robertson's songs), one only has to listen to 'Chest Fever,' credited solely to Robertson. Did Robertson write that organ intro? Did the bridge and vocal harmonies spring fully formed from Robertson's mind? Doubtful. One could find many such examples, especially on the first two records.
One only has to witness Robertson's sparse catalog since The Band's demise to realize how much he needed those guys to breathe life into his compositions.
Maybe someday Garth will tell his side of the story. I hope a couple of talented filmmakers will find that worthy of preserving for posterity.
Apparently, Scorsese felt that his earlier concert film, The Last Waltz, didn't adequately sing enough of Robertson's praises (at the expense of the other members); now, as producer, he brings us another installment of Robbie's hagiography in narrative form.
It's definitely a tale worth telling, and the photos and abbreviated unreleased tunes are a treat for the fans. It's just too bad that other members weren't here to contribute, much as they did in the making of The Band's best songs.
That void is filled by Robbie's wife, some of the crewmembers, a couple of photographers, and a few of Robbie's famous musician buddies. Not the most impartial witnesses, in my mind.
Some of the criticisms Levon Helm claimed in his autobiography are addressed, charitably and in a respectful manner so as not to appear to be speaking ill of the dead, but the dismissal of his claims are slightly condescending and dismissive, the bitter ravings of an envious, drug-addled, damaged man.
Regarding those contributions by the other band members (categorized as merely arrangements to Robertson's songs), one only has to listen to 'Chest Fever,' credited solely to Robertson. Did Robertson write that organ intro? Did the bridge and vocal harmonies spring fully formed from Robertson's mind? Doubtful. One could find many such examples, especially on the first two records.
One only has to witness Robertson's sparse catalog since The Band's demise to realize how much he needed those guys to breathe life into his compositions.
Maybe someday Garth will tell his side of the story. I hope a couple of talented filmmakers will find that worthy of preserving for posterity.