The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart – Review

The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart

Directed by: Frank Marshall

Runtime: 111 minutes

The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart chronicles the lives and careers of the titular band and provides insight into a changing and sometimes resistant culture. It blends contemporary footage of Barry Gibb with a 1999 interview footage of his brothers, as well as other pop-music figures and stakeholders in the band and brothers’ lives and success. Ultimately, it seems to be a sincere, heartfelt, and accurate portrayal of the group’s ups, downs and rebounds.

Fans of the group are probably not going to be surprised by many revelations of the film. The Bee Gees have had their stories told before and have entered Australian folklore. It is possible that international viewers will have more of a discovery process through the film, as they are less likely to have absorbed general knowledge and trivia about the band Redcliffe cannot shut up about.

The use of interviews with Maurice and Robin Gibb is effective in making them feel present. Maurice comes off as particularly charismatic. Although their deaths in the context of the “story” of the film are not surprising, their charm and personability in their 1999 interviews makes it quite jarring when director Frank Marshall chooses to conclude with a post-script about the tragedy that would befall the family. One minute they are there, the next they are not. That technique packs one hell of a haunting punch, whether you want to talk about fame or family.

If there is a criticism of the film’s purview, it is that it does not really probe the issues the band faced beyond their association with the rejection of disco. Andy’s addition, the brothers’ responses and their personal lives do not get much airtime for the sake of completion. I would argue that they are not truly necessary to the story. We know how Maurice feels about Andy’s death by some text that reveals he dedicated himself to a life of sobriety. That says it all. But the film is still a standard overview of their careers, very public and mostly travelled before.

The most interesting part of the film, as far as analysing a slice of ’70s and ’80s culture, is a small but important detour into the rejection of the band and disco as the decades began to change over. The rather immature anti-disco movement—organised by Chicago radio personality Steve Dahl (who Wikipedia informs me is a humourist, citation needed)—led to a “Disco Demolition Night” at Comiskey Park, where attendees would be given admission for less than a dollar if they brought a disco record to blow up. It seems silly to put money in the pockets of artists you seemingly have such disdain for, but the United States does love its explosions. An usher from the night reveals that he noticed most of the records brought along were not disco records, however. They were R&B and jazz records—black music. It was a black music burning. The film’s meditation on how black culture (and gay/queer culture) found alleviation in disco, only for it to be ruined by commercialisation and conservative push-back masked as simple “genre distaste” is the film’s most profound philosophical point.

I think it is useful to tell these untold and often marginalised stories and perspectives of pop-music when revisiting past eras, even if the artists themselves are not necessarily of a marginalised background. It allows new things to be said about familiar media. Although it should noted that this is not exclusive to music. The Australian Dream (2019) covers these sorts of issues in sports. Confronting anti-gay and anti-black sentiments in cultural backlash makes How Can You Mend a Broken Heart worth it alone and—dare I say it—important.

The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart is not a revolution in cinema or cinema about music. But it is a well-made and personable look at a group that produced some unmistakable and inescapable hits of the 1,000 songs they wrote together. At its core, it’s a small-town-boys-done-good story about personal and professional drive, and appreciating the moments you’re stayin’ alive.