Led Zeppelin’s ‘The Song Remains The Same’ At 45: Big Riffs, Tight Jeans, And Even A Dose Of True Crime

When does a concert film become cinema? Like pornography or which bagel to ask for (no, no, the one to the right), I know it when I see it. And I say anything with Robert Plant riding a horse across the Welsh countryside to rescue a maiden from a castle is cinema.

When Led Zeppelin finally released The Song Remains The Same in October of 1976 — three years after the initial footage was shot, and 45 years ago TODAY! — it’s important to remember that the relationship between musicians and fans was completely different than it is now. Whereas today a superstar like Lil Nas X will retweet memes sent his way from admirers, you could go your whole life in the old days never actually hearing the speaking voice of someone you worshipped, especially a group that intentionally shrouded themselves in myth like the mighty Led Zep!

Led Zeppelin was arguably the biggest touring act of the 1970s—they had their own plane, for Page’s sake. At the same time they were transforming popular music by mixing Delta blues, British folk, and Eastern melodies with the dark sorcery of heavy, electrified psychedelia and the riff-that-can-not-die, the rumors about this band added to their popularity. What the heck are those four weird symbols on the fourth album? Did you hear the story about the mud shark? Doesn’t the leader, Jimmy Page, live in Aleister Crowley’s old home (actually true!) and is therefore a devil worshipper and practicing necromancer? (That last bit, well, who is to say?)

Zeppelin’s manager Peter Grant used the excuse of “bad audio” to ensure that they hardly ever appeared on television, which enforced more scarcity. It was smart, because back then, before YouTube and MTV (yes, I am on a rocking chair holding a pipe right now), when a band did something mainstream they had to significantly shave off the edges to fit a program’s format. Even Frank Zappa told dumb “he must be high!” jokes on Saturday Night Live.

So a concert film, the only option to get up close and personal with a band on their terms, seemed a natural for Zeppelin. And with heavy metal/acid rock audiences making do with dopey activities like planetarium laser shows to tide them over between tours, the film was a success. But it stands out today not just because it one of the few high resolution captures of the band at their peak, it’s also a window into the world of high fantasy and danger that no other group perfected quite like they did.

The movie—currently streaming on HBO Max in a terrific clarity that makes a mockery of the VHS copy I watched 100 times as a kid—begins with a wordless prologue. A team of 1920s gangsters drive to an English estate and shoot up a gang of werewolves, Nazis, and weird looking dudes with no faces. Why? Well, um, because stoners needed a few minutes to find their seats? I can’t say for sure! What eventually unfolds in the film is that each of the four members of the group gets a little “fantasy section” where the film cuts away to something shot like an actual movie. This pre-title sequence belongs to Zeppelin’s notoriously brusque manager, Peter Grant.

The next bit shows the band—bassist/organist John Paul Jones, drummer John Bonham, Samson-locked lead singer Robert Plant, and lead guitarist/principal songwriter/sonic architect Jimmy Page—receiving an invitation to go out on tour. Plant is galavanting in a Lord of the Rings-like rustic utopia, his moppety nude children bathing in a stream. Page, playing a hurdy-gurdy, gazes back at the camera with demonic eyes.

Thirteen minutes into this damn thing we finally get some music. The lights come up at New York’s Madison Square Garden as the guitar crashes in on “Rock and Roll,” and it’s the view from behind the group (section 112, to those in the know.) Even if you don’t care much for this sort of music you can not deny its power.

Bonham and Jones are a volcanic rhythm section who love to throw in surprise fills different from what you hear on the albums. Page covers the stadium in sheets of sound, soloing like a frightened tarantula one minute and using the guitar like a percussion instrument the next. Robert Plant is the quintessential great golden god of rock ‘n roll, belting out filthy high notes and looking cooler than Roger Daltrey while doing it.

So many classic rock jokes can find their roots here. “You know those guitars that are, like, double guitars?” That’s Jimmy Page. “We’ve got armadillos in our trousers!” Oh, man, that’s Robert Plant. His jeans are extremely tight and the camera angle is quite low and, well, there’s no use denying that his sex organ may as well have gotten its own billing. (I also like the embroidered heart on his left pant leg. You may not notice it at first, as Plant is “dressing right.”)

Every song is a winner, even the long drum solo “Moby Dick.” (It can get stale on the album, but fun to watch here, especially intercut with footage of Bonham at home.) “No Quarter” is another highlight, with the bass line played through a Fender Rhodes organ, and Page creating evil dissonance on a theremin. You also get big hits like “Heartbreaker” and “Stairway to Heaven,” but we need to talk about the centerpiece, which is “Dazed and Confused.”

At a jammed-out length, it includes interludes into other songs, like Scott McKenzie’s “San Francisco” and a blues-y bit unrelated to the main melody. But that’s just the half of it. Page grabs a violin bow to create eerie, Dark Shadows-y noises and, after “throwing” these sounds around the hall, we dissolve to a scene of pure terror.

Now, the rumor was that if you put a tab of LSD on your tongue when the movie started, you would peak just as Jimmy Page reached the top of this gnarly hill of vines and roots and came face-to-face with “The Hermit,” an image from the tarot deck that was found inside the band’s unpronounceable fourth album. The Hermit’s face, at first, is ancient, but then it moves backwards in time to become Page, then Page as a child, then as an infant, then as a fetus, and then, after some lightning flashes, speeds back in the other direction into a psychedelic medley of flashing color.

During this far out experience, Robert Plant, ever the poet, continues with his usual blues ad libs, and cries “suck it! suck it!”

This is all part of what makes this an absolutely foundational rock ‘n roll epic.

There are other treasures, like glimpses of the whacked-out audience members (even a cop has his mouth agape at one point) plus some backstage shenanigans with Peter Grant angry at bootleg poster sellers. It’s nothing compared to the fan interaction you’ll see in The Grateful Dead Movie or Woodstock, but it’s fun to see who was buying tickets in 1973 for this indescribable group. Also, there’s a true crime bit to the movie, when the band discovers that their safe deposit box at the hotel was robbed. (At the time, this was the largest hotel theft in New York history, and the thieves have never been caught.)

The band self-financed the film, which means there was some stress with the directors. Their first hire was a man named Peter Clifton, but it was discovered that there were gaps in the coverage that demanded reshoots. A stage in Britain was redressed to resemble MSG’s and the group mimed their pre-recorded moves. (John Paul Jones had to wear a wig so his hair would match.) The new director, Joe Massot, got into a disagreement with Peter Grant and refused to hand the new footage over, so Grant’s goons went to his place and “repossessed” his editing equipment. Maybe some of this is lore, but it makes the movie even cooler.

Today it can feel like we can’t get our stars out of our faces. The Taylor Swift documentary Miss Americana, to use just one example, is extremely watchable, but feels like it is part of a larger brand strategy. The Song Remains The Same, by contrast, is an artistic statement. Sure, you may laugh at it, but it is without compromise. And there’s nothing “the same” about it.

Jordan Hoffman is a writer and critic in New York City. His work also appears in Vanity Fair, The Guardian, and the Times of Israel. He is a member of the New York Film Critics Circle, and tweets about Phish and Star Trek at @JHoffman.

Watch The Song Remains The Same on HBO Max