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I am increasingly convinced that the theme of rock and its surroundings is not always adequately addressed in cinema. And I'm not just referring to the so-called biopics, where the artist or group being narrated is subjected to a sort of blend where many episodes of the narrated career end up overlapping in a temporal jumble, with only the actors' performances saving the day. There is also the quality of documentaries made about bands and solo artists, and, at least in the case of this "The Beach Boys" available on Disney Plus, it does not go beyond a decent assignment, good only for those approaching the Californian band for the first time. However, the final part of the film turns out to be decidedly cloying.
The exposition of facts concerning the Californian group is certainly correct. What is lacking is the attempt to add some further enlightening details to the whole. It already starts by remembering that the Wilson brothers, together with cousin Mike Love and neighbor Al Jardine, were budding musicians and singers from a very young age. A great gift, but what is missing is why their style defined as "surf music" was so successful in the early '60s. Yes, it overlooks the fact that at that time, '50s rock 'n' roll had entered a phase of stagnation, with major figures like Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry being downsized and normalized. It was therefore necessary to shake up the music aimed at the youth audience of the time: what better than a fresh sound celebrating surfing, the sun, beautiful girls in bikinis on the beach, and brand new powerful cars? The Beach Boys could fit the bill, and in the hands of an unscrupulous manager like Murray Wilson (father of the three brothers), the contract with Capitol Records was a done deal. However, success also brought problems, and it was Brian Wilson, the group's most refined composer, who suffered from work-related stress. After reaching the creative zenith with "Pet Sounds" and "Good Vibrations," he fell into a nervous breakdown (a challenging task to compete with the contemporary Beatles) and would never fully recover.
His crisis did not benefit his colleagues, and the Beach Boys then remained somewhat in the background. I would say their decline coincides with a fact just mentioned in the documentary: the band was among the promoters of the first pop festival in history, namely the one in Monterey in the summer of 1967. Compared to the protagonists of the new Anglo-American psychedelic rock scene, their style was now outdated. And it was no longer possible to catch up with the general musical trend. By then, they could only sing nostalgia for those carefree days spent surfing the waves of the Pacific Ocean opposite California, while the USA and the Western world were experiencing an economic boom that seemed eternal (a pious illusion...).
Sure, in this beautiful fairy tale, the shadows of disputes, and the deaths of two of the three Wilson brothers, are not concealed. But what is most striking is precisely the greedy and disloyal attitude of Murray Wilson who, unbeknownst to everyone else, thought it appropriate to sell the Beach Boys' song rights for the modest sum of $700,000 (yes, you heard right: $700,000), thus causing a series of legal actions that ruined the relationship between Brian Wilson and Mike Love. What else remains but the joy of life by putting to music the sweet Californian life...
And here the documentary, fundamentally decent, in my opinion, slips on a banana peel (and I do not consider it worthy of the highest rating). Mike Love, during the final interview, suggests that despite everything, he still has affection for Brian Wilson. And so, what better than to end beautifully with the remaining members of the group framed on precisely that stretch of the Californian coast where the photo on the cover of their first LP was taken? A really forced ending in the spirit of "volemose bene" that has all the air of the sickly sticky.
In short, a missed opportunity to avoid sweetening a story that does not cast a good light on a band with a declared sense of optimism. And it's not just that, after the film's editing, came the recent news that Brian Wilson's health has worsened due to the progression of Alzheimer's disease and his family opted to put him in medical custody (unfortunately, time passes for everyone).
To all this, I would add that it would be good, for both industry insiders and the public, not to give too much weight to all those initiatives aimed at reviving the glories of the survivors of the old rock guard. As long as it is about keeping the memory of glorious music pages alive, it can be okay (especially for those who are so young today as not to know). But when news of reunions of old groups comes out (I won't name names, we know who is still around), it's better not to have illusions about the good outcome. What could they do, just to give an example, the residual Beach Boys now that Brian Wilson (called the Californian Mozart) observes with a lost face what surrounds him?
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