Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Stay informed with free updatesSimply sign up to the Film myFT Digest — delivered directly to your inbox.According to the British Board of Film Classification, the rockumentary Becoming Led Zeppelin contains “brief moderate violence” and “drug references”. How can this be? A glance at John Bonham’s index entry in the book Hammer of the Gods — “heroin use”, “Monte Carlo gun incident”, “stripping onstage”, “violent behaviour of”, and so on — indicates how unbecoming of Led Zeppelin this milksop warning is.But there is method to the lack of madness. Unlike Stephen Davis’s no-holds-barred 1985 tome, Becoming Led Zeppelin is an official biography. Its chronology sidesteps the excesses, actual and apocryphal, of the gods of rock’s pomp in the 1970s. Double-necked guitars, 30-minute drum solos, a private jet named The Starship, scandalous activities with groupies, one infamously underage in Jimmy Page’s case — the film turns its gaze away from all that.Directed by Bernard MacMahon (American Epic), it dedicates itself to recounting the band’s rise. We see Zeppelin emerge from the black-and-white rubble of postwar Britain (footage of bomb sites, Queen Elizabeth II) to capture the hearts, and other body parts, of the technicolour US (aerial shots of tall buildings, close-ups of suggestively smiling young women at gigs). It ends in 1969 with the chart-topping triumph of their second album, Led Zeppelin II.Filmed separately, Page, Robert Plant and John Paul Jones sit in baronial oak chairs surrounded by the high Victorian decor with which Page is besotted. Bonham, who died in 1980 aged 32 after an alcohol binge, is present in the form of a previously unheard audio interview. The wild man drummer talks in an unexpectedly soft voice. The others, ranging in age now from 76 (Plant) to 81 (Page), reminisce as though stoking a glowing fire during a genial evening of anecdotage.The story they tell is the standard authorised version of Led Zeppelin. Page and Jones, precociously talented session musicians in 1960s London, team up with Plant and Bonham, roisterers from the Midlands gig circuit. They create a form of psychedelic blues-rock that sends every needle to red. A deal with Atlantic Records in New York allows unusual autonomy, brokered by man-mountain manager Peter Grant. (Now dead, he looms mutely in old photos, imposingly silent.) Their self-funded debut album is savaged by snooty critics: “weak, unimaginative songs” according to Rolling Stone. But the American public gets it. Much touring ensues, and the start of the band’s reputation for depravity. The film chooses not to inquire. Cue the rueful play of a naughty smile from Plant.The reticence is disingenuous, but also a form of schadenfreude. The master-musicianship that the press initially overlooked, and which the tales of bad behaviour obscure, is front and centre here. A hint of Page’s occultism comes when the guitarist describes his guitar as resembling Excalibur (“the mythical sword”) and cheerily lauds their song “Dazed and Confused” as “positively evil”. Mostly, however, he goes on about studio techniques and his session pro’s resentment of the top 40 singles format.But then we see their younger selves perform “Dazed and Confused” in 1969. Plant yowls with a highly sexualised charisma, vocals pushed to the chaotic edge of distortion. Page bows his Excalibur, conjuring malevolent but controlled shrieks. Jones lays down a wonderfully supple bass groove. Bonham, aka Bonzo, batters his drums (this is the “brief moderate violence”, presumably). An impeccable sound mix brings out detailing of cymbals and rimwork, signs of his percussive technique; also Page’s studio obsessiveness.Becoming Led Zeppelin abounds in such electric moments, with songs played in full rather than chopped up. They are what we take as we exit the band’s company. The sight and sound of the foursome in full flow, doing breathtaking exercises in brinkmanship: what could be more becoming of Led Zeppelin?★★★★☆In UK and US cinemas now
