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Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Once Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson and The Band’ on Hulu, a Rock Doc in Which the Least-Dead Member Controls the Narrative

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Once Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson and The Band

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Hulu subscribers now can enjoy a chronicle of rock history in Once Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson and the Band, which is about the Band, but mostly about Robbie Robertson. Directed by Daniel Roher and boasting Martin Scorsese and Ron Howard as producers, the documentary is “inspired by” Robertson’s memoir Testimony, and named after a song he released in 2019, so it absolutely sticks to a subjective point-of-view. Those of us with an interest in key points in rock history will press play wondering if it’s an adequate re-telling of the Band’s story, or a case of history being written by the group’s most famous, most not-dead guy.

ONCE WERE BROTHERS: ROBBIE ROBERTSON AND THE BAND: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: Eric Clapton says the Band changed his life. Bruce Springsteen insists the Band had three of the greatest singers in rock history. Martin Scorsese and Taj Mahal chime in on their legendary status. They all say these five guys were magical, just miraculous in their musical collaboration, unmistakably and indelibly greater than the sum of its parts, so why does the documentary lean so heavily into Robertson’s biography? This happens possibly because Levon Helm, Rick Danko, and Richard Manuel are all dead, and Garth Hudson doesn’t participate, and who knows if anyone invited him?

There’s the inevitable moment where boomer-era artists like Robertson rushed out to buy a guitar, the most effective tool for culturally appropriating Chuck Berry. By the time he was 16, Robertson hooked up with Toronto rockabilly hoot-‘n’-holler Ronnie Hawkins, whose band, the Hawks, featured Helm on drums. Hawkins pillaged other bands of their best musicians, which is how Danko, Manuel and Hudson joined. By 1963, Hawkins split, and two years later, the Hawks were getting pelted with cappuccino cups and Chomsky texts as Bob Dylan’s backing band during his controversial electric tour.

By 1967, the Band was hanging with Dylan in Woodstock, New York, with a fresh record contract and lots of time to find themselves musically without a superstar frontman. During this period, with Robertson being the guy working the hardest, obvs, they wrote and recorded influential albums Music from Big Pink and The Band. They blended country, rock and folk influences, essentially inventing the Americana genre. Whether they bear any responsibility for paving the way for watery manure like the Eagles is just conjecture, so don’t hate them for that; the movie doesn’t get into this, but we should all hate the f—in’ Eagles, man.

But as these god damn things always go, booze and drugs pulled focus from the music — Helm was a full-blown heroin addict and Manuel’s heroin and alcohol abuse hindered performances. Robertson, being the most responsible member, obvs, assumed the brunt of the songwriting for every successive album. By the time The Band hired Scorsese to capture their final shows for the renowned concert film The Last Waltz, Robertson and Helm’s once-brotherly relationship had grown contentious. The bitterness lingered for many years, and notably, Helm is no longer here to argue his case.

Once Were Brothers Robbie Robertson and the Band Review
Photo: Everett Collection

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: This doc follows on the heels of other Boomer-era rock chronicles David Crosby: Remember My Name and Laurel Canyon reminiscence Echo in the Canyon.

Performance Worth Watching: A grizzled-as-all-hell Ronnie Hawkins is the film’s most candid and colorful voice — he shares one vague anecdote about the sex and one slightly more detailed anecdote about the drugs, and leaves the rock ‘n’ roll commentary to Robertson. You’ll wish he had more screen time.

Memorable Dialogue: Robertson’s assessment of the glory days of the Band: “It was so beautiful, it went up in flames.”

Sex and Skin: None.

Our Take: Yes, Once Were Brothers is a decent account of the Band’s legacy and influence, albeit from a personal, internal perspective. As the title suggests, Robertson emphasizes his strongest relationships, Dylan and Helm being the primary bros, speaking in warmly nostalgic tones about their collaborations, an old fart sharing disappointingly sanitary stories about generally good times. It takes Hawkins’ commentary to tell us about the good stuff, the cocaine piles and the women, and it says something that we even get these all-too-brief stories, considering this is a film in which Robertson speaks directly into the camera for purposes of intimacy and possibly tonal control.

The movie isn’t big on context beyond an artistic perspective — they were so good, ERIC CLAPTON HIMSELF wanted to join the band — and assumes we know the status of hit singles and album and ticket sale stats. There isn’t much in the way of live concert footage, either, just a fair amount of lip service to how great they were on stage. But it does feature a moment in which Robertson describes the inspiration that hit him to write The Weight, asserting that the only thing worse than dancing about architecture is talking about songwriting.

To be fair, the documentary has a focus that other nonfiction music bios lack. Instead of trotting out luminary peers — Peter Gabriel, Van Morrison, etc. — to get hyperbolic, they throw around terms like “mythology” and “Steinbeck novels.” Robertson isn’t overly name-droppy, and his reminiscences are kind; the slight arrogance of the title aside, he seems like a good human being. Notably, his ex-wife, Dominique Bourgeois, shares thoughtful commentary on addiction, and a postscript reveals she’s an addiction counselor, implying that the sometimes scary experiences with members of the Band — which she shares here — inspired her work. The movie sometimes puts forth more of an illusion of depth than actual depth, and is visually and tonally milquetoast, but it’s a slick, solid rock chronicle nonetheless.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Once Were Brothers isn’t going to light the world on fire with any revelations, but fans of the Band will likely deem it essential viewing.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream Once Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson and the Band on Hulu