Jerry Garcia was a musician. He was not a director. It shows. He’s now been Dead for longer than he was Grateful Dead. True to his calling, he is almost certainly grateful that people still watch this crappy “film” he made in 1977.
It sucks.
I’m sorry. If you’re reading this, there’s a very good chance you disagree. But I’m not wrong. I have reviewed over 3,000 films on this blog, and this “documentary” is in the bottom 50. I’d never seen it before and I don’t care to see it again. In short, the Dead had concerts in 1977, took some home film, spliced it together with some bad animation and put it out as a feature-length motion picture. If the Dead is your thing, this is a way to remember them fondly, as I judged from the pair of couples literally dancing in the aisles of the movie theater. Part of me thinks this is sweet. Part of me thinks: If you made a film called “the 1986 Mets” and played their World Series highlights in theaters, would people come to see it? They would, and -I’m betting- in greater numbers than The Grateful Dead Movie.
Shot inside and outside seedy clubs in the Castro in the 1970s, The Grateful Dead Movie made me first long for, literally, any other band on screen. Then it made me long for What’s Up Doc?, The Enforcer, and Foul Play, i.e. films that showed ANY other side of San Francisco in the 1970s. Yeah, the hippies were there. I remember them. But The City was prettier than this.
I’m sorry but, I have to ask: What the Hell is up with the drug music? Did the audience specifically request tunes that can only be appreciated while one is on an acid trip? That is what most of this film feels like. I’m trying to imagine the groupie who has come down: “[flatly] No. No. Trust me. (Fights against an eye roll.) You guys are, like The Beatles, man. You have such a sense of, like, music, and like, playing, like, instruments. Man.”
Awwwww, a little girl has given a flower to Jerry Garcia on stage. This not only highlights the nicest moment in the film from an emotional perspective, but, in addition, anything that gets these guys to stop playing is fine by me.
Now, I know people who like the Grateful Dead. I’m even related to a few. Perhaps this film for them
conjures a different time and place which made them feel younger. More vibrant, more alive. If this does it for ya, more power to you. Really. What I see is an album in movie form, where mediocre music is played to a crowd that is less enthusiastic and more, shall we say, in a chosen state of other consciousness. I would imagine young people pointing at the screen and yelling, “Hey look! Grandma is on drugs!” I have to imagine it, because there were no young people at this film. The Grateful Dead has exactly zero appeal to people who don’t need to schedule their next colonoscopy at this moment.
I’d like to say this film was entirely undermined by direction and film quality, but the truth is this show could have been produced in modern venues with the BTS team of handlers and it would still seem like old white guys on stage who don’t know how to end a song intermingled with people testifying that they might not ever have listened to another band.
♪Druggin’, got my dust line clean
Keep druggin’, this air is obscene
Together, tap those veins and begin
Just keep druggin’ on♫
Rated PG, 131 Minutes
Director: Jerry Garcia
Writer: Sure could have used one
Genre: I’m sure this was relevant once. Maybe
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: People on drugs
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: If you don’t have a taste for the dead, this won’t help
♪ Parody Inspired by “Truckin’ “
