"The Velvet Underground": Movie Review
Written By Alex Greenbaum
Directed and written by the eccentric Todd Haynes ("Carol", "I'm Not There") his new documentary called "The Velvet Underground" is a wild LSD-like trip. Gorgeous imagery strung together with some wicked editing are the highlights. For those who grew up in the 60s era of rock and roll and are familiar with the band, there might be a greater appreciation for its purpose. As for myself, looking from the outside-in, Haynes ability to convey clarity is pushed to the wayside. Expecting a coherent storyline is a mistake and one that might deter most audience members. Even through its disorienting perspective, there is beauty to be had, but its characters and subject never clicked with me.
Through a large collection of archived footage and first hand interviews, a story is relayed about a band whose influence evidently affected many. From scenarios with Andy Warhol, Bob Dylan, David Bowie and more, we are propelled into a state of drug fueled philosophy and hypnotic shock. These sequences of mayhem can be entertaining but lack the connection that a documentary requires to be executed properly. Expecting the audience to be familiar with the band and its connection to a niche following appears to be an unreasonable assumption for a documentary presenting commercially unsuccessful music from a half century ago.
Besides my lack of interest in this bands musical journey, there are eye-catching scenes. The film addresses the unusual story of the band's formation and transformation along with periods of self-discovery. A large variety of visual concepts become a constant and often a treat to experience. When everything clicks, "The Velvet Underground" is a fireworks show of over-the-top creativity. But more often than not, it's a bizarre journey into the unknown that does not fill its emotional void, which mostly causes it to fall short of greatness.
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