Director: Bernard MacMahon
Writers: Bernard MacMahon, Allison McGourty
Stars: John Paul Jones, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant
Synopsis: The film traces the journeys of the four members of the Stairway To Heaven rockers through the music scene of the 1960s and their meeting in the summer of 1968, culminating in 1970.
As far as estate-approved (or, in more politically correct terms, “authorized”) documentaries go, Becoming Led Zeppelin is likely the least offensive of the bunch. Do we learn anything new about the band’s formation? For those unfamiliar with Led Zeppelin, you’ll probably think the documentary is insightful. On the flip side, hardcore fans may not find anything of note, yet will probably give it five stars anyway. Does it go deep enough to warrant a two-hour runtime and an IMAX exclusive run? Not really. Is it still somewhat interesting enough? I certainly found value in Bernard MacMahon’s exploration of how John Paul Jones, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, and John Bonham became a powerhouse in rock music, even when the odds were stacked against them.
It’s a tale as old as time. Newfound friends with talent in various instruments form a band that wants to be at the forefront of a revolution in music. The press scolds them, and the mainstream audience doesn’t get what they’re doing, leading to a particularly hilarious moment that sees the band play live in front of a crowd that covers their ears and looks at the stage utterly perplexed. Yet, in the underground sphere, they experienced a success never-before-seen that eventually touched the mainstream consciousness with the arrival of their second studio album, Led Zeppelin II. For those looking for a complete picture of the band’s history, MacMahon doesn’t offer much in that regard. He stops after the release of II because the rest, as the kids say, is history. Instead, Becoming Led Zeppelin is all about their origin story, examining how they carved a place in rock music history.
Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say “examines” in a purely academic sense since most of it is told through anecdotes from the talking head testimonies of Plant, Page, and Jones. MacMahon also gives a decent amount of space to the late Bonham by way of an archival interview that has never been heard previously. The band’s drummer lived a relatively secluded life and gave few interviews throughout his sadly short time on this Earth. That’s why it feels so important to include his own words in the documentary, as a testament to his lasting legacy and a recognition of the energy and talent he brought to Led Zeppelin that otherwise wouldn’t have given them the distinct sound they had.
Even if MacMahon’s documentary doesn’t cover their most influential album, Led Zeppelin IV, one who watches Becoming Led Zeppelin with a personal connection with the band will always contrast what the figures say with their lived-in experiences of discovering their music. For me, as for many people, their first experience was IV, and specifically “Rock and Roll.” When Bonham’s intro widened my ears, it forced me to explore corners of music I never expected to discover and hear what true “rock” really is. That’s why hearing Bonham and letting him discuss his upbringing in the documentary is far more respectful than having Page or Plant speak on his behalf. Instead, MacMahon has them react to his interview and show them footage they’ve never seen.
The camera lightly pans as they see and hear things the estate had in possession but have personally not listened to or observed until they sat in front of the filmmaker and began work on the documentary. It feels honest when Page discusses their first festival in London, having never seen the raw material and remembering their earlier days as young adults quickly thrust into a voracious world primed to eat him alive. It did, but the movie never explores this, let alone talks about the band in a broader context beyond their musical creations. There’s a brief mention of drug use with the throwaway line, “We did a lot of drugs.” Duh. Still, it completely sanitizes Bonham’s personal struggles, which sadly led to his demise, and is deathly afraid of criticizing any aspect of their frequently debaucherous behavior.
That’s where the “estate-approved” part of the whole package comes in. It’s all about painting them as saints and less about excavating a knife to genuinely explore the band beyond their successes and showcase them as the flawed, tormented geniuses they all are. Of course, this sanitization doesn’t feel as egregious as making Mike Love the hero of Frank Marshall and Thom Zimny’s horrendous The Beach Boys hagiography. However, the PG rating of MacMahon’s IMAX documentary ensures that the movie never discusses elements the surviving band members don’t want to recall. That’s fine, in isolation, if these stories weren’t publicized. But they were, which makes this film feel particularly gutless, especially in our current era of incuriosity where challenging beliefs and preconceptions seems unwelcomed.
I won’t deny their musical prowess and how they paved the way for avant-garde innovation to be accepted within what is considered “popular music.” The movie certainly discusses this through Jimmy Page explaining how it was important to break all expectations on their single for Led Zeppelin II, “Whole Lotta Love.” This section is the best technical exercise MacMahon gives to the movie: a sequence of visual and sonic euphoria where the song is played in full after Page talks about how it was structured differently from the usual verse/chorus patterns. It’s a richly layered and well-executed moment, and well worth the price of admission to experience this explosion of color and sound on IMAX. Still, it’s the only moment of note that justifies wanting to see this documentary in a large format.
The rest of it is hit or miss. The anecdotes are fun, and it’s great to see the band members discuss their meteoric, almost overnight, rise in their own words. However, these only go so far when the director isn’t allowed to actively question the figures and talk about Led Zeppelin beyond the façade they want to paint in. Any “authorized” movie or documentary will not be a complete portrait of the people they depict since they don’t want any negativity, which will critically flesh out the story to be discussed. It’s why Ezra Edelman’s nine-hour-long “estate-approved” documentary on Prince will never see the light of day because the filmmaker unearthed stories of abuse from the singer that the estate does not want the public to know, thus leading Netflix to cancel the release of the documentary altogether.
What good is documentary filmmaking for if we’re not allowed to properly document and question the people we’re talking to for our films? Sure, it can discuss the highs, but it should undoubtedly do more than the bare minimum. Of course, that may mean fans won’t eat it up because the “saints” they’ve envisioned them as will be immediately broken as soon as MacMahon does more than us, the remaining members as fodder so they can pat themselves on the back. And all we want is to please the fans, right?? Right???
After Peter Clifton and Joe Massot gave us the ultimate Zeppelin experience and put us inside their ever-shifting headspace with the experimental concert film The Song Remains the Same, one hoped MacMahon would give the band a full-fledged portrait that’s more complicated than the central figures talking about how great they are. We knew that already, but what about everything else? The estate has spoken. These stories won’t be released anytime soon, and probably never.
