Another Scorsese masterpiece/In Memoriam: Robbie Robertson - The Last Waltz (1978)

"The Band has been together 16 years. Together, on the road. We did 8 years in bars, dives, dance halls, 8 years of concerts and stadiums, arenas. We gave our final concert, The Band's final concert, and we called it The Last Waltz." Robbie Robertson, The Last Waltz

It's fitting that the new 4K restoration of Scorse's seminal documentary concert film The Last Waltz has found limited release from Fathom Events. It's glorious. That's really all anyone needs to say; Scorsese captured the indefinable joy of some of the greatest musicians who have ever lived, embodying the love of music and the mastery of expressing that love in a way that I don't think anyone else has since. 

For sure, Stop Making Sense comes to mind as another great, innovative concert film, but the nature of Talking Heads is quite a good deal different from that of The Band, not to mention Bob Dylan, Muddy Waters, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, et al. It isn't that one set of musicians isn't as important or great or adept as the other, but Scorsese's work is rooted in a different era, more earnest and less ironic. There is humor and joy to be seen and heard in Jonathan Demme's wonderful work, but this is three-fourths of what fuels Scorsese's.

Let's chat. I was 20 when The Last Waltz came out. By this time, I'd seen Dylan and the Band in concert with a few of the same special guests at the Hurricane 2 Concert in Houston in 1976. By the time the film was released, I was a snotty twat. Seriously. "I've seen 'em, don't need to go the film." Mind you, by this time I was all in on Scorsese; I'd seen Mean Streets, Alice Doesn't Live Here, New York, New York and of course, Taxi Driver. Needless to say, when I did catch a significant portion of it on video years later, my hubris slapped me in the face. I was with other people and we had other things to do than rewind the tape and watch the whole thing, but I promised myself that I'd catch in repertory; I didn't want to watch it on the small screen and I wanted a full, immersive experience. 

Here's the thing: The Last Waltz has played in each city I've lived in for any length of time and somehow, I've missed it. Repeatedly. Watching it last night was a bucket list item and I advise, abjure, and practically beg anyone who has not seen the film, don't be an ass like me: watch it as soon as you can on as large a screen as you have access to with the sound turned up to eleven.

As I grew deeper and deeper into the film, I would occasionally get a body sense of being twenty, twenty-one and how much older those guys seemed to me. Then I'd come back and realize that I was older than everyone on stage now; all this pointed out to me is how ephemeral it all is, but how rich music is and specifically how rich this music is. 

Of course, I'm aware of the backstage stuff, as well. No one involved in the concert or the film for that matter, was a stranger to pharmaceutical enhancement (the story goes that Scorcese edited out a dab of cocaine from Neil Young's nose when he first comes out); but honestly, that's secondary at best, to the end result. 

A part of me is also cognizant that at least a couple of the old guys have proven to be problematic in their views in terms of politics, civil liberties, and immigration. But for this moment captured from a performance in 1976, all there is are genuine genius masters of their art and unbridled joy in what they're doing. Infectious? You bet!

There is nothing to say about this film that hasn't been said already. There are plenty of books, articles, interviews and docs you can refer to. Writing about a show like this is like playing a trombone with a swordfish. Maybe you could, but why would you? 

Nope. Get out there and find it! As far as streaming goes, I see it only listed on Tubi and Freevee (which I'd avoid because of the ads). but it's rentable from Apple TV, Vudu, and Microsoft's store. And when you do get it - on whatever platform - CRANK IT UP LOUD! Tell the neighbors what you're doing and invite them over. Or just play it loud anyway; if they can't appreciate this, this is no neighborhood I'd want to live in.