The Last Waltz

Released:  April 26^th, 1978

Rated:  PG

Distributor:  United Artists

Starring:  Rick Danko, Levon Helm, Garth Hudson, Richard Manuel, Robbie Robertson

Directed by:  Martin Scorsese

Personal Bias Alert:  not familiar with The Band, not big on concert films

9 of 10

            Consistently cited as one of the best concert films ever made, The Last Waltz will seem like an intimidating watch to young viewers looking to check the boxes of cinema history.  The band in the film is literally called The Band, a successful but not infamous group that many people under 30 have probably never have heard of, and helming the film is the seemingly unquestionable Martin Scorsese.  To watch this film and not like it would certainly induce howls of scorn from cinephiles, but the fact is that personal taste will always be a significant factor when it comes to concert films.  No matter how technically sound the movie is, if you don’t care for the music, you’ll have little chance of liking the film.  This is what makes The Last Waltz so intimidating; music from a bygone era often doesn’t play well for younger listeners.  Luckily, The Band’s music is remarkably good, likely to win over even those who are averse to their rockabilly-esque sound.

            At the time of filming, The Band consisted of Rick Danko (bass, vocals), Robbie Robertson (guitar, vocals), Levon Helms (drums, vocals), Garth Hudson (keyboards), and Richard Manuel (keyboards), most of whom periodically pick up other instruments.  The concert was staged as an elaborate farewell to touring and featured appearances from other famed performers like Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton, Joni Mitchell, and Muddy Waters, to name a few.  There’s allusions to why the band is quitting, including the member’s ages (all in their 30’s) and the toll that touring takes, but these musings are only half-baked observations by those still immersed in the lifestyle and are best overlooked if you’re trying to get the most you can from the film.  It plays best as a pure encapsulation of the concert experience, with sweeping performances broken up by brief interview snippets that prove to be mildly boring letdowns.  Great musicians like those in The Band give infectious performances, but their basic humanity is always shown when they must stop and set up for the next song.  It’s like an actor breaking character; one moment they are glorious, larger-than-life figures, and the next they are awkward things fumbling with straps and chords.  The Last Waltz, whether intentionally or not, captures this sensation perfectly as it weaves in and out of performances and interviews.

            The film begins with a title card stating ‘This film should be played loud!”  I don’t know if anything else could give away Scorsese’s intent, particularly for his audience to have a raucous good time, more succinctly.  It then launches into the band’s encore and an interview in which Scorsese directs Robertson on how to phrase a sentence.  This was never intended, Scorsese is saying, to capture precisely what happened that night.  He’s fessing up to the manufactured nature of the film, which was limited by the practicalities of capturing a live performance.  Dylan only allowed two of his songs to be filmed, cameras ran out of tape, and the sound recording was so bad that most of the performances were dubbed in post-production.  None of this matters, though, because Scorsese worked tirelessly to map out as much as he could in advance and fix anything that went wrong later.  He hired a squadron of supremely talented camera operators and storyboarded how the performances should be captured, giving the film a tight visual style that both covers everything that is going on but allowed for small moments, like miscues and chuckles, to be captured in all their effervescent glory.  The visuals are what set apart a concert film from a concert album, and Scorsese uses these to capture just how much infectious fun everyone onstage was having. 

Scorsese was hired through Robertson, and the film does suffer from focusing a bit too much on him over the other band members.  Still, there’s no doubt that few other people would’ve been able to manage the chaos that this production surely was better than him.  The end product is a joyous romp, the preservation of a mythical performance that never really was.

Other Notes:

Ø  Some of the performance footage was filmed separate from the actual concert.

Ø  It took about 40 minutes for them to play a song I know, and it turned out to be my favorite performance in the movie:  The Weight.

Ø  Those last lines are the perfect way to go out.