Looking back, “Once Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson and the Band” was an odd choice to serve as the opening-night film at the 2019 Toronto International Film Festival. At a festival chock full of major awards contenders with big movie stars, it is a documentary about a musician whose music is mostly heard on the occasional oldies station or Americana Spotify channel, by a director, Daniel Roher, with only one previous feature on his resume.
But “Once Were Brothers,” which was acquired by Magnolia out of Toronto, sports Ron Howard, Brian Grazer and Martin Scorsese among its executive producers – and more than that, Robbie Robertson is a local hero of sorts, born and bred in Toronto before he headed to the U.S. to become an unlikely rock star.
And the film is a solid chronicle of (the first part of) a fascinating life and career. Robertson was a 15-year-old kid who managed to get a gig playing rock and rockabilly around North America; who stumbled into a musical relationship with Bob Dylan that produced some of the fiercest and most seminal moments in rock history; who helped invent the genre called Americana even though he and four-fifths of his band were Canadians.
Like Robertson’s 2016 memoir, “Testimony,” the film sticks with Robertson’s early years and with his career up to the point in 1976 when the Band called it quits with the star-studded farewell concert known as The Last Waltz.
The truncated timeline was a curious choice on the page, though Robertson had no problem filling 700 pages with those years. It’s a little more frustrating on the screen, where you see the 2019 version of Robertson talking about the first section of his life but ignoring almost everything that has happened over the last 43 years.
It not only suggests that those decades were less interesting (which, yeah, they were), but it almost implies that he didn’t do anything noteworthy for the last four decades, which is hardly the case. Hell, he released a new album and a soundtrack to Martin Scorsese’s “The Irishman” in 2019.
But there’s plenty to relish in the story that the film does tell, from his days as a teenage whiz-kid guitar-slinger too young to get into the clubs where he played every night with rockabilly wildman Ronnie Hawkins to his 1966 tour with Bob Dylan, who antagonized uncomprehending audiences worldwide by giving his folk songs a jolt of electricity and rage.
The film skims lightly over the gang ties of Robertson’s father and uncles, and over the break with Hawkins (hint: it wasn’t as easy as it sounds here), but it has a bigger story to tell: the story of the Band, which turned from a backing group to one of the most distinctive, indelible and lasting groups of its era after workshopping in an ugly pink house in Woodstock, New York.
Mind you, “Once Were Brothers” doesn’t really explain how they did it, how a group of blues-seeped rockers somehow tapped deeply into the myths of rural America to write and perform songs as seemingly timeless and bottomless as “Up on Cripple Creek” and “The Weight.”
Robertston takes a stab at explaining that last song, which was inspired by the “Nazareth, PA” stamp on the inside of his Martin guitar. But the mysterious eloquence of “The Weight” still resists explanation, even from the guy who wrote it.
How’d they do it? Who knows, but they did, at least twice: Once on their haunted and haunting debut album, “Music From Big Pink,” and again on the sleeker follow-up, “The Band.” As luminaries from Bruce Springsteen to Eric Clapton to Van Morrison testify in the film, Robertson and his bandmates – Levon Helm, Rick Danko, Richard Manuel and Garth Hudson — really did seem like brothers. Their musical empathy was rich and deep, and it was easy to assume that their personal empathy was, too.
And for a while, it was. But the film’s title, “Once Were Brothers,” hints at the tragedy in this story. Drugs and alcohol helped tear the group apart, and so did personal resentments over Robertson’s increasing role and increasing profile as the group’s mastermind. (He wrote many of the songs at first and almost all of the songs by the end, but the sound of the group relied as much on Helm, Manuel and Danko, its three magnificent vocalists.)
Helm, an Arkansas native who showed the teenage Robertson the ropes in Hawkins’ band and was the closest thing he ever had to a real brother, grew particularly embittered and estranged from his longtime pal. By the time the Band ended its touring career with the Last Waltz – a lavish event and Scorsese-directed concert movie that featured way too much Robertson for the other members’ liking – the break was complete.
It’s not mentioned in the film, but the other members got back together and recorded and toured without Robertson for years until Manuel hanged himself and Danko died of a heart attack after years of drinking and drugs.
Those deaths, the cancer death of Helm in 2012 and the members’ estrangement from Robertson hang over “Once Were Brothers,” which is named for a new song that Robertson previews at the beginning of the film. “Once were brothers,” goes the opening line. “Brothers no more … It was so beautiful it went up in flames.”
We see some of those flames in Roher’s film, which tells Robertson’s side of the story and makes use of what little concert footage exists of the Band in its prime, as well as in memories from people who were close to Robertson. (Helm and some others, including George Harrison, are seen in interview footage not shot specifically for this film.)
This is a movie in which the sheer joy of rock ‘n’ roll gives way to a deep sadness. Its most powerful section, in many ways, is an extended sequence that deals with the estrangement between Helm and Robertson, and that ends with the incredible performance of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” a song Robertson wrote just for Levon, at the Last Waltz. (I was there that night, and it was even more staggering in person than it feels on screen.)
At moments like that, “Once Were Brothers” – and the past tense in that title is so, so important – has the power to transport you but also to break your heart.
10 Best Musicals of the 2010s, From 'Pitch Perfect' to 'Rocketman' (Photos)
Who says the musical is dead? The last 10 years have been jam-packed with effervescent, hilarious and melancholy movie musicals for moviegoers of every kind. Whether they incorporate their songs magically into the narrative or simply break at every possible turn for another gangbusters performance, these films kept a song in our hearts and married their wonderful tunes to memorable, sometimes completely unforgettable storylines. To each of these incredible films we say, “Bravo.”
Runners-Up (alphabetically): "Anna and the Apocalypse," "Get On Up," "Frozen," "Jem and the Holograms," "The Last Five Years," "London Road," "The Lure," "Moana," "Pitch Perfect 2," "Tangled"
10. "The Greatest Showman" (2017)
The life of circus entrepreneur P.T. Barnum was nowhere near as sappy and sanitized as it appears in Michael Gracey’s “The Greatest Showman.” But then again, selling tickets to see an entertaining lie because the truth is inconvenient and/or grotesque is entirely in keeping with Barnum’s modus operandi. Hugh Jackman smarms his way through a string of dazzling, show-stopping numbers about the importance of following your dreams, as his team of sideshow performers find their own voices by embracing the very qualities that made them otherwise ostracized. It’s undeniably charming and catchy musical filmmaking; just don’t forget to take it all with a mountainous grain of salt.
Fox
9. "Pitch Perfect" (2012)
It’s pretty daring for any movie to call itself “Pitch Perfect,” but Jason Moore’s film gets away with it. This absolutely delightful college comedy stars Anna Kendrick as a promising DJ who’s forced to join a disgraced a cappella group and ultimately helps transform their old-fashioned sound into a bold, modern new musical group with powerful bonds that are forged through stressful friendships. The arrangements are a treat, the cast is uniformly wonderful and hilarious, and -- while we’re at it -- Elizabeth Banks’ sequel “Pitch Perfect 2” is a fantastic continuation of every element that made the original such a treasure in the first place.
Universal
8. "The Muppets" (2011)
After a long hiatus from the big screen, the Muppets returned in a movie that captures all the magic and whimsy that made Jim Henson’s lovably weird creations so popular in the first place. Jason Segel (who also co-wrote the screenplay) stars as a midwestern everyman whose Muppet brother, Walter (voiced by Peter Linz), uncovers a scheme by an evil billionaire to bulldoze Muppet Studios. To save the legacy of the Muppets, the brothers get the band back together in a massive intercontinental road trip that gives all the beloved characters a chance to reflect on what they mean to each other... and what being a Muppet means to people who aren’t a part of the group. Bret McKenzie’s “Man or Muppet” rightfully won an Academy Award for Best Original Song, but his soundtrack is full of bright and teary-eyed tunes, from “Life’s a Happy Song” to “Pictures in My Head” to an unforgettable all-chicken cover of “Forget You.”
Walt Disney Studios
7. "A Star Is Born" (2018)
Bradley Cooper’s directorial debut takes the classic film -- which had already been made three times to widespread success and acclaim -- and deftly brings it into the modern era. Cooper stars as alcoholic country star Jackson Maine, who stumbles across an incredible new musical talent in Ally, played impressively by Lady Gaga in her first major acting role. The story is maudlin, sometimes to a fault, but Cooper, Gaga and especially Sam Elliott as Maine’s older brother give absolutely stellar performances steeped in familiarity and sensitivity. The new songs, in a wide range of musical styles, are all utterly believable as best-selling hits (which, in real life, they became).
Warner Bros.
6. "La La Land" (2016)
Damien Chazelle’s song-and-dance ode to Hollywood might not be the best musical of the decade, but it may have done more to revive interest in the live-action version of the genre than any other film. Celebrated for its tender performances, lush nostalgia and memorable songs, “La La Land” captures a Los Angeles that probably only exists in the minds of the artists who live there, in which the romance between a struggling jazz pianist (Ryan Gosling) and a struggling actress (Emma Stone) takes on epic significance and seems to typify the whole Hollywood experience. If only Gosling and Stone had the singing and dancing chops to actually hold up to Chazelle’s classic musical influences, “La La Land” might have reached even greater heights. But the earnest attempt to reach classical greatness, even when it’s ever so slightly out of grasp, is all part of the film’s undeniable charm.
Lionsgate
5. "Rocketman" (2019)
Dexter Fletcher’s sublime musical biopic of Elton John is, without the songs, a relatively standard musical tell-all. Taron Egerton plays the iconic performer as he works his way up from an emotionally abusive household into the big time, and from there directly into toxic romantic relationships and drug addiction. But “Rocketman” wisely incorporates John’s music whenever it’s relevant to the story, regardless of when it was written, which enlivens the entire production and transforms John’s story into a glorious, energetic and colorful musical extravaganza. Fletcher knows how to stage a fantastic number, and Egerton proves he’s a real-deal movie star by flinging himself into each number -- and each powerful emotional moment -- with excited aplomb.
Paramount
4. "Sound of Noise" (2010)
Released with little fanfare and swiftly forgotten by mainstream audiences, this Swedish-French comedy directed by Ola Simonsson and Johannes Stjärne Nilsson is unique and wonderful. “Sound of Noise” tells the story of a group of musical anarchists who break into the daily routines of banks and hospitals, to name a few respected institutions, to transform humdrum life into renegade musical performances. Hot on their trail is a detective who, to his lifelong chagrin, is completely tone-deaf, and who must unlock the meaning of music to understand and capture his quarry. Daring, distinctive filmmaking that reminds us that music isn’t only here to entertain us: It also has the power to challenge and transform us.
Bliss
3. "Sing Street" (2016)
Joy. That’s what John Carney’s ebullient “Sing Street” evokes, with its feel-good story of young artists discovering their inner geniuses and escaping the small-town, familial-strife drudgery of Dublin in the 1980s. You almost don’t notice how incredibly easily success comes to Conor (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) and his band of misfits because the songs are among the catchiest produced this decade. They sound like the characters think they sound, and the film’s drama is just as upbeat and reassuring and catchy as those tunes. (And somehow none of the film’s instant classic tunes -- not even “Drive It Like You Stole It” or “Girls” -- were even nominated for the Academy Award for Best Original Song. A crime if ever there was one.) A delightful synthesis of kitchen-sink reality and the happiest of dreams.
The Weinstein Company
2. "Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping" (2016)
Mystifyingly overlooked but completely brilliant, Akiva Schaffer and Jorma Taccone’s “Popstar” is the best musical comedy of the decade. Probably the best broad comedy, too. This absurdly funny Lonely Island film stars Andy Samberg as Conner, a bestselling pop star who has let fame inflate his ego to the point that his next album is full of songs that should never have seen the light of day, including one that compares sex to the assassination of Osama bin Laden, and another about how the Mona Lisa is “an overrated piece of s---.” The lyrics are deliriously silly, and the songs are as catchy as anything on the radio. As the film follows Conner down the path to redemption and into a reunion with his long-suffering former bandmates, “Popstar” earns genuine emotional investment even as it engages in off-the-wall gags about off-screen swarms of bees and packs of wolves attacking beloved music star Seal. “Popstar” is comedy gold and musical platinum.
Universal
1. "Inside Llewyn Davis" (2013)
Music isn’t always a symptom of a fairy tale. A lot of the time it’s hard work for very little reward. The Coen Brothers’ pointed and bittersweet musical drama “Inside Llewyn Davis” stars Oscar Isaac as a folk singer in the 1960s who’s trying to build a solo career but can’t seem to do anything right. When he isn’t losing his friend’s cat, he’s turning down lucrative percentage deals that could have set him up for life, and playing gigs that would eventually go down in history because somebody else played that night. Isaac’s revelatory performance is full of melancholy and bruised ego and a talent and a passion that can’t be kept in check by life’s demeaning brutalities, and the many wonderful songs -- even the superficial and kooky “Dear Mr. Kennedy” -- bolster Llewyn's incredible story at every single turn. It’s one of the great modern films about stymied artistry, and a truly mature and powerful movie musical.
CBS Films
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Decade in review: ”A Star Is Born,“ ”The Greatest Showman“ and ”Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping“ are among the decade’s best
Who says the musical is dead? The last 10 years have been jam-packed with effervescent, hilarious and melancholy movie musicals for moviegoers of every kind. Whether they incorporate their songs magically into the narrative or simply break at every possible turn for another gangbusters performance, these films kept a song in our hearts and married their wonderful tunes to memorable, sometimes completely unforgettable storylines. To each of these incredible films we say, “Bravo.”
