Review: “Becoming Led Zeppelin” (Netflix)

REVIEW: “BECOMING LED ZEPPELIN” (NETFLIX)

I expected much more from Becoming Led Zeppelin, which as the title suggests, is a music documentary and story-journey about the foundation and formation and early years of one of the most iconic bands in rock history.

Surviving ex-bandmates Robert Plant (vocals), Jimmy Page (lead guitar), and John Paul Jones (bass) — John Bonham (drummer) died in 1980 — previously rejected multiple offers to tell/sell their insider backstory, which only buttered up an already-stoked (and stoned) base and added to widespread anticipation for this long overdue self-portrait.

More than a half century ago, Led Zeppelin’s meteoric album-selling success became amplified by the hedonistic rituals of rock n’ roll excess, corroding into an expectorate orgy of Caligulian decadence, every mesmerizing onstage gyration blurring into yet another after-hours party scene madrigaled with screeching vocals by the bare-chested Welsh-Tarzan frontman interwoven within an explosive cacoon of thundering multi-layered overdrives of blues-infused guitar metal. All these years later, some memories might be dazed and confused, but creating the definitive Led Zeppelin bio-pic could be and should be our stairway to heaven.

In 2024, the British-bon quartet-reduxi-trio was approached by filmmaker Bernard MacMahon (best known for the outstanding “American Epic” series) and soon thereafter the first “officially-authorized” Led Zeppelin documentary began to take shape. “We just decided — it was time,” Robert Plant sheepishly explained.

In an era of rock docu-excesses and often tiresome repetitive overkill, with every name and song and brand for sale and squeezed for the last pound and buck, that’s the understatement of our lifetime. “It was time,” indeed.
Unfortunately, there aren’t many behind-the-scenes revelations in this 90 minute showcase of mostly unseen archival footage and rare early concert performances, nor any great insider stories, that we all hoped for. Perhaps the trio has chosen to forget much of the chaos of their youth when they ruled the rock universe and FM airwaves, but those toasty chestnuts and backstories in whatever their form — inspiring, poignant, emotional, funny, introspective — are the catnip of most great rockumentaries, and this one fails to deliver our much-needed fix.

Looking and sounding simultaneously academic, yet grandfatherly, Plant/Page/Jones were interviewed in what looks like an Ox-bridge-style library. An old 70’s-era interview with Bonham is also included, though unfortunately it doesn’t add much to the portrait. The survivors do provide a functional, if dispassionate narration of the timeline on how Led Zeppelin morphed from the earlier Yardbirds, from studio musicians before, and from the unlikeliest of roots that grew organically and nourished by a genuine love obsession with blues taken to a new genre of rock culture.

To be fair — there are some exceptional moments in this documentary. For instance, I learned that two members of Led Zeppelin played on a well-known James Bond movie soundtrack. In 1965, then-session musicians Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones did the guitar work on the title theme of Goldfinger. There are other fun discoveries in here too, which I won’t give away.

It’s also fascinating to observe the earliest performances by Led Zeppelin, which launched as a hybrid group in September 1968, debuting in Denmark of all places. Seeing first-time black/white footage of kids rushing into a Copenhagen TV studio and surrounding a makeshift cement-floor stage and bare band set with the quartet playing in front of an audience for the first time is just so raw and authentic that it reminds us of what’s desperately missing from much music since and today. Those kids had no clue at the time the rock history they were witnessing.

It important to remember, Led Zeppelin shattered musical conventionalism. Like Dylan and the Beatles shortly before their arrival, nothing was quite the same again nor after them once we heard the first volcanic note of the opening line of that first audio awareness that this was something new and it would be big. Led Zeppelin to this day stands as the ultimate exemplification of artistic honesty and a refusal to compromise. Consider these facts: They weren’t marketed. They weren’t promoted. They weren’t pimped by corrupt DJs. Their success was entirely organic. Led Zeppelin didn’t even warrant an album release in their home country, the U.K. Agreeing to the unheard of caveat that they wouldn’t release any singles nor obsess over charting hit records, legendary Atlantic Record’s visionary founder Ahmet Ertegun signed them just minutes after hearing their demo tape and said, there you go — the world is now yours.

As is shown in this film, the early days were uncertain. Led Zeppelin may have been infused with the throwback sounds of traditional blues, but they were frightening to many. One clip from an early performance shows horned-rimmed glasses parents and school kids sticking fingers in their ears and ducking into a fetal position while Robert Plant wildly swings his hips and screams, “I want to be your backdoor man!” in “Whole Lotta Love.” Remember this was before strict rating codes were abolished, when TV was censored, and the raciest thing on American television was “The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour.”

One note and one song and once concert at a time, Led Zeppelin gradually built a loyal fan base. By the end of that first 1969 tour, fans were camping overnight for tickets to the show the following day. In Boston, the crowd was so raucous, the band played a single four-hour set, which is pretty remarkable given the new band had recorded just one hour of album material up to that point. Manager Peter Grant famously said, “that was when I knew they’d be the biggest band in the world.” Jimmy Page, his hands raw from playing a four hour set, half-complained, “we wanted to leave, but they just wouldn’t let us go.”

I was annoyed that band manager Peter Grant wasn’t given considerably more focus and extended proper credit in the so-called definitive story of Led Zeppelin’s rise and success. If ever there was a bombastic mad coked-up bull inside the fragile china cabinet of music moxy, it was Grant — the 350 lb. Hells Angel-looking ex-club bouncer plastered with a menacing Fu-Manchu mustache who is widely-acknowledged as the shrewdest manager-agent in rock history. He approached record company negotiations with a $500 fountain pen in one hand, and the attitude of a swinging tire iron in the other. Sign here, or else. Every clause was one Grant fuck you from breaking down and being done. So, he kicked record industry ass. Grant hammered lucrative deals that no other band in the world received, including full control over all their songs, album concepts and designs, date releases, tour schedules, and promotion. No one alive could have delivered that kind of a deal with so much power and control in so many zeros, except for Grant who barreled through the 1960s and 1970s with the force of a human wrecking ball. Obsessed with representing his clients, Grant was even known for prowling the parking lots of stadiums during Led Zeppelin live concerts and hunting down pirate t-shirt venders, even threatening to beat them into a pulp while shutting down a million-dollar concert in mid-show unless local security did their jobs. This ballbuster clearly deserves his own movie.

Led Zeppelin fans are sure to enjoy the music and rare concert footage. While the band’s best material comes somewhat later in their careers, we recognize and appreciate the four bandsmen were always in this for the music. In one memorable scene, Plant and Page look out from the stage and see a small crowd at one of their earliest performances. Disappointment wasn’t on the setlist. The looked at each other and said, let’s play this gig the best we can and pretend we’re only playing for each other. And so, that genuine togetherness become one of the defining characteristics of the band, which always seemed so tight-knit, so connected, so in tune with each other. They played as much for each other, as themselves. And the fame and success and girls and money, that was just a bonus. Oh, and who can ever forget the fireplace on the Led Zeppelin airplane?

That musical authenticity remains as a powerful testament to the legendary band, to their ongoing legacy, to the music which endures to the day and continues to cast a spell. When the levee breaks, we’re consumed by an infinity of possibilities.

This documentary is currently available on Netflix. I rank it at 6 on a 10 scale, not so much because there’s anything wrong with it but due to the fact it leaves us wanting so much more.