Our Terms & Conditions | Our Privacy Policy
(Credits: Far Out / A24)
Mon 21 October 2024 8:00, UK
DA Pennebaker’s Don’t Look Back, chronicling Bob Dylan‘s 1965 tour in England, starts with one of the most iconic concert movie opening sequences in music history. Dylan is standing in a hallway holding cards with the lyrics to ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’ on, nonchalant though acutely aware of the camera, dropping the viewer into Dylan’s world without any prior context or scene setting. It feels oddly spontaneous but in a way that captures the enigmatic aura that permeated Dylan’s world.
This was a considerably forward-thinking affair in the 1960s—more than just captured footage of a standard live set, the concert film emerged around this time as more of a convergence between the music and cinematic worlds, capturing atmospheres and cultural significance with more immersive flair than before while signposting some of the most innovative figures of an entire generation.
Although never truly a true representation of the magic of live shows in real-time, the concert movie has always been an attempt at distilling some of the energy felt in the room at the time, capturing special moments while oscillating between audience reaction on a grand scale and the more close-up, intimate parts. In the 1940s, these were often short performances of filmed live acts, which focused more on the performers’ talent rather than any accompanying narrative.
However, a turning point occurred in the ’60s, with the counterculture movement impacting music and storytelling in a way that placed more of a focus on context and an artist’s cultural impact. Concert films during these years still focussed on a musician’s prowess but began to inject more artistic freedom on the part of the camera operator to make the experience even more immersive and engaging.
Though this concept skyrocketed in the 1970s following Woodstock, originators like Pennebaker intertwined the concept of the concert movie with a cinéma vérité approach that placed the subject in a more casual and authentic light. In Dont Look Back, for instance, Dylan isn’t always the most likeable figure, and often he is filmed squabbling with reporters or treating his team dismissively, but his mannerisms and characteristics paint a picture that was unapologetically real and set against the backdrop of one of his most groundbreaking tours, allowing audiences a glimpse into the person and the visionary.
(Credits: Far Out / Alamy)
With the exception of 1968’s Farewell Concert, which captured Cream’s final goodbye at the Royal Albert Hall, the concert movie began to transition into something more palpable by incorporating backstage moments and behind-the-scenes footage. 1970s Gimme Shelter, for instance, not only enjoyed the benefits of such cinematic liberation because of the Rolling Stones’ chaotic backstory but went beyond the music to provide an immersive and enlightening experience.
In a typical fashion, Martin Scorsese further revolutionised the form in 1978 with The Last Waltz, a film which marked The Band’s disbandment by venturing further outside of the typical concert footage domain and including an overt touch of cinematic grandeur. This was the first instance a director took the concept of a concert set and made the film an art form in itself, reframing a band’s impact in a new, culturally distinctive and artistic light.
Moreover, Scorsese deliberately shattered expectations with The Last Waltz by removing the typical audience-and-performer transaction, altering the usual spectatorship of concerts and instead placing audiences in a more passive mindset. This might sound demeaning, but it worked because it leaned into the alternative audience tropes associated with traditional storytelling on the big screen, placing the concert film in a more observational space instead of relying on subtle interaction.
This had already begun to emerge with the efforts of the Maysles brothers and works like What’s Happening! The Beatles In The U.S.A., which proved to be a shop window into the turbulent world of Beatlemania from the band’s perspective. However, such ‘fly on the wall’ documentary styles merely set the framework for what would later become the contemporary concert movie, from Scorsese’s liberties to almost a complete return to shooting nothing more than concert sets.
However, even the following examples, like Talking Heads’ Stop Making Sense or, better yet—The Eras Tour—incorporate subtle narrative leanings without them occupying centre stage, solely focusing on performances without relying on any prior contextual knowledge from the viewer. The simplicity of these, particularly in the case of Stop Making Sense, lies in their ability to build an organic momentum through the music alone, reflecting the powerful nature of the art without much in terms of cinematic grandeur.
The Eras Tour, on the other hand, presented an exception by offering a more structured, thematic narration of Taylor Swift’s journey from the beginning of her career to her latter years, proving that storytelling in the medium of the concert film doesn’t always have to rely on classic cinematic tropes to build out a fuller picture. Though the format has naturally become more geared towards dynamic collages of on-stage footage and behind-the-scenes activity, some of the more recent examples have shown a revisit to earlier styles, while others have continued to utilise the power of the narrative arc whether to present a more poignant message or to execute something simpler, like comedic effect.
One interesting case study comes when analysing Ghost’s latest concert movie, Rite Here Rite Now. Not only does this band naturally yield a more cultish edge by incorporating an in-built fictional backstory and characters, but the concert movie also embellished pre-existing lore by exploring the band’s next chapter, chronicling the frontman’s lamentation with the possibility of stepping down to make way for another leader.
In Rite Here Rite Now, directors Tobias Forge and Alex Ross Perry incorporated several unconventional concert movie elements, like animation, CGI, and over-the-top thematic concepts, while overlapping them with snippets from the band’s final two performances in North America at the backend of 2023. Though this was a deliberate choice to pander to the loyal fanbase the band has established over the years, Rite Here Rite Now feels akin to everything the concert movie has evolved into since the early trendsetters of the ’60s.
The traditional concert film format—the one that depicts musicians performing and little else—will never truly resign to the sidelines, as evidenced by the many recent films relying on that trope alone. However, in today’s world, where context is critical, and audiences develop more parasocial relationships with their favourite singers, the narrative has become a more natural aspect of the concept due to ever-blurred lines between the subject and the viewer.
When done right, intertwining or overlaying cinematic tropes and observational camera footage will always enhance the viewing experience. The extensive work done in this space proves that no matter the direction a band, camera operator, or director decides to take, the importance of storytelling has become a crucial facet that is impossible to ignore. Of course, engagement also depends on specific messages, themes, or stories; sometimes, a simple live set is enough to captivate from start to finish. Other times, a more nuanced approach can transform a simple concert film into an evocative artistic statement.
Related Topics
Subscribe To The Far Out Newsletter
Images are for reference only.Images and contents gathered automatic from google or 3rd party sources.All rights on the images and contents are with their legal original owners.
Aggregated From –
Comments are closed.