The Velvet Underground (2021)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Velvet Underground (2021) – T. Haynes

Probably my favourite band – and therefore their history is overly familiar to me (from the Up-Tight book by Malanga/Bockris; the Under Review DVD; and countless other sources). So, what could director Todd Haynes (e.g., Safe, 1995; Dark Waters, 2019; and a bunch of Sonic Youth videos) bring to this tale? For one thing, he adopted Andy Warhol’s split screen technique (used prominently in Chelsea Girls, 1966, which I saw years ago at the Walker Art Center) – often showing one of Warhol’s screen tests (Lou Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, and more but maybe not Maureen Tucker) on one side, while the other includes rare live recordings, an interview subject, or other remarkable found footage and period ephemera. Haynes is clearly more enamoured with the Velvets’ early days, spending much time with denizens of the Factory and the Village more broadly (the film is dedicated to Jonas Mekas). Of course, this is one key to their sound – Tony Conrad, Henry Flynt, and La Monte Young all provide necessary backstory about the drone influence, as does Cale himself. But Pickwick Records and poet Delmore Schwartz are not forgotten, as inspirations or contributing factors in Lou Reed’s development as a songwriter and lyricist. Naturally, we hear some of the early demos and formative noises that accompanied the Exploding Plastic Inevitable and foreshadowed the first album (with most of its songs on the soundtrack). Nico is introduced (with footage from La Dolce Vita) but we move fairly quickly past her, then touch on the California tour (Moe really hated the hippies), and the firing of Warhol. The subsequent albums whiz by, each given progressively less coverage (Cale is given a chance to reflect on his departure but Doug Yule is barely introduced). Then, it is time for the finale at Max’s, where Lou’s walkout is recounted by Danny Fields. No mention of Squeeze but we do get footage from Le Bataclan. A coda offers a scattering of moments for each of the principals in the decades to come (and a glimpse of the 1993 reunion).  This sort of documentary always rises and falls based on the quality of the talking heads and they are pretty good here, particularly Jonathan Richman (who says he saw VU sixty or seventy times!). To Haynes’ credit, there’s precious little gossip here, with the focus primarily on the story of the band at the time it unfolded (and no irrelevant future stars recounting their later influence). As such, two hours seemed too short – I wanted more detail, more depth, longer music clips, more more more!  But as music docs go, this is definitely all killer/no filler, perhaps best particularly for the uninitiated (if any such people exist), as an entrée to the music itself, of course.