
Ranking all five of Martin Scorsese’s music documentaries
Martin Scorsese has quite an ear for music. Usually, that manifests itself in choice needle drops throughout his filmography: ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ in Mean Streets, ‘Sunshine of Your Love’ in GoodFellas, and a particularly inspired punk cover of The Beach Boys’ ‘Sloop John B’ in The Wolf of Wall Street. But occasionally, Scorsese seeks to make music the focus of his stories instead of just soundtracking his work.
When that’s the case, Scorsese turns to a film format that he’s remarkably underrated at bringing to life: the documentary. Scorsese has made 16 full-length documentaries in his nearly 50-year filmmaking career, most of which focus on topics that go hand-in-hand with his established identity. He’s covered Italian heritage in America, the history of film, Fran Lebowitz, and most notably, rock and roll music.
Scorsese only found time to make one music doc during the first four decades of his directing career. Once he hit the new millennium, however, Scorsese began to ramp up his desire to capture rock music in real-time. He’s made five distinct music documentaries, each with its own feeling, unique direction, and variable dedication to facts.
For this list, we’re focusing solely on the documentary films that Scorsese has directed on his own. That means we can’t count his editing contributions to the Woodstock film, nor can we count his one episode of the PBS docu-series The Blues. That leaves five other films to pour over.
Martin Scorsese’s music documentaries, ranked:
5. Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story
Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story only barely qualifies as an actual documentary. Sure, it has real footage from Dylan’s 1975 ‘Rolling Thunder Revue’ concert tour, and some of the facts presented in the film are historically accurate. But elsewhere, Scorsese and Dylan throw in pure falsehoods, loose ends, unverifiable rumours, and bizarre twists to keep viewers guessing throughout all two-and-a-half hours.
It all adds up to a messy but admittedly intriguing final product. Rolling Thunder Revue alternates between a curiosity, a marvel, and a disaster at nearly every turn. Scorsese gets major props for conjuring up a film that’s as mercurial and unexplainable as its central subject, but once you decode the gimmick at the heart of the “documentary”, the film loses most of its appeal.
4. Shine a Light
Scorsese’s love affair with The Rolling Stones is well documented. He’s used ‘Gimme Shelter’ so many times that it’s nearly become a running joke. The use of ‘Monkey Man’ in GoodFellas is pure genius, as was the aforementioned ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ drop in Mean Streets. So when Scorsese got the chance to hook up with the Stones directly, it was too good to pass up.
The only thing keeping Shine a Light back in this list is the relative lack of ambition at its core. Sure, it’s got that signature Scorsese energy, plus a killer collection of live footage from the Stones at their late-period peak, but that’s really all there is to Shine a Light. There’s no reason to complain about that since the film remains eminently rewatchable, but it also doesn’t quite elevate it above just being a really good concert film.
3. No Direction Home: Bob Dylan
More straightforward than his later attempt at documenting Bob Dylan, No Direction Home remains Scorsese’s most Ken Burns-adjacent moment. No frills, no fireworks, and no falsehoods: just Dylan’s story during what remains perhaps his most fascinating period. From his arrival in New York in 1961 to his motorcycle crash in 1966, No Direction Home covers Dylan’s ascension to folk hero and his crossover into electric controversy.
Surprisingly, Scorsese takes a relatively moderate approach here, opting to stay in the traditional area of documentary filmmaking. Sometimes, that makes you wish that No Direction Home had a little bit more flair. But more often than not, Dylan’s story contains enough excitement for Scorsese to simply let it unfold, which he does with a clear reverence for the legendary singer-songwriter.
2. George Harrison: Living in the Material World
When it comes to going big or going home, Scorsese saved his most indulgent and astounding documentary techniques for George Harrison: Living in the Material World. Clocking in at nearly three-and-a-half hours, Scorsese leaves no stone unturned in trying to crack the enigma that was The Quiet Beatle.
That massive scope pays off massively, as Living in the Material World somehow finds corners of Harrison’s story that remained untold. It takes a real master to shed new light on one of the world’s most famous musicians, but Scorsese’s interest in deconstructing the public image of Harrison to get to his inner workings is absolutely enthralling. It’s a labour of love in every sense, one that is necessary viewing for anyone who has ever loved Harrison and his music.
1. The Last Waltz
Let’s get it out of the way now: yes, The Last Waltz focuses a little too much on Robbie Robertson. Scorsese and Robertson’s friendship leads to a bit of favouritism toward The Band’s guitarist and songwriter, sometimes at the expense of his four other bandmates. But this is still The Last Waltz, one of the most entertaining and essential music films of all time.
Scorsese captures lightning in a bottle as he takes us into the final days of The Band. Hilarious stories about touring life bump up against a palpable confusion about what’s to come for the iconic roots rock group. However, none of that uncertainty makes its way to the stage as The Band rocket through all of their timeless material with vigour and grace.
The farewell concert truly is the crown jewel of The Last Waltz, featuring some of the best live footage ever taken of Muddy Waters, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, and Bob Dylan. And even though he might have leaned towards Robertson, Scorsese clearly had enough sense to also get a few cameras on Levon Helm in his prime, belting out songs that remain foundational to this day.
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