One of the great mysteries of the 1960s music scene was what on earth happened to Brian Wilson? He emerged from the surf music of his pop band the Beach Boys to, briefly, become a very major talent, captivating the world with his exquisite combination of harmonies and soaring melodies, taking pop music from bubblegum to something far more serious and seriously gorgeous.
God Only Knows and Surf’s Up are just two of his songs which never seem to age, perfect examples of his ‘teenage symphony to God’. But when the 1960s ended so, it seems, did Wilson. Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix had an excuse, they were dead, so what happened to Brian? Was it as simple as the usual explanation that he simply went mad trying to make his masterpiece Smile? Here we get an attempt at an answer.
Even casual fans might know that around the time Wilson was making Smile he fell under the spell of a guru, Eugene Landy, who preyed on the genius’ fragile mind and convinced him he would sort out the tubby pop star’s weight problem, cure his addiction to various drugs including alcohol, and free his mind to get him writing again. What was never clear from the newspaper clippings and rare sightings was how exactly a bright boy like Wilson faell for someone who was clearly such a con artist? Did he have some need to be manipulated? How did Landy manage to get away with such outrageous claims, including that Wilson owed him money for every song he ever wrote?
While every story such as this is essentially unknowable, the film makes a very powerful go at explaining Wilson’s story. The decision to cast two different actors in two periods of his life works brilliantly, the film constantly cutting between the young, brilliant musician haunted by his dad (Paul Dano) and the older wreck of a human being completely reliant on pills and his weird doctor (John Cusack).
We first meet the older version buying a car and meeting salesperson Melinda (Elizabeth Banks), and she sees a shy, fragile, charming but haunted man. She also meets Landy (Paul Giamatti), who exerts a huge influence over his charge and has little time for anyone else, least of all her. How has a grown man allowed himself to have his life run for him by this creepy character?
We find out in the scenes from Wilson’s early life. Never happier than singing with his brothers, he is completely dominated by his father, a manipulative, self-obsessed bully of a man for whom nothing is ever good enough. There’s a heartbreaking scene where Brian plays him God Only Knows on the piano and his father dismisses it for being “too wishy-washy”. Brian is completely crushed, and, clearly a sensitive soul anyway, is primed to allow another mad bully to take over his life – which brings us back to Landy.
The only complaint about this two-tiered structure is that Giamatti’s Landy doesn’t get enough screen time. The actor clearly relishes every moment playing this monster of a man, and several scenes pack a huge emotional punch. Wilson, doped up to the eyeballs, is clearly terrified of this creature who reminds him of his father, and Landy uses every trick in the book to keep his prey down.
There’s an extraordinary scene at a barbecue where Wilson grabs Melinda ‘s burger and Landy explodes at him, while simultaneously kissing his head. Personally I could have done with a few more scenes like that to show how he did what he did, but it’s a minor quibble. Another slight moan is a scene where a session musician tells Brian what a genius he is and how he is blowing all of our minds. He’s great, we get it.
As good as Giamatti is he meets his match with Dano and Cusack. With Dano we see the huge musical ambition, the endless fussing in the studio to get his orchestral sounds out, but also the vulnerability and frustration at being cast as a bubblegum pop star. The are several amazing sequences where he hears sounds and voices in his head, and the sound production department deserve an Oscar nomination, these are brilliantly realised.
Cusack as the older Wilson has the tougher gig but nails it. A fragile boy trapped in a man’s body, torn by self doubt, wrecked by drugs and alcohol, he still manages to be charming and sweet even at his indulgent worst, and his relationship with Melinda is desperately winning. Banks is also as good, a strong woman baffled by this man’s inability to run his own life but ready to stick it out for the greater good.
Jake Abel as Mike Love also deserves a mention, partly because of his excellent performance but also for an interesting sub-plot of the story, his challenging of Brian’s musical direction. Pet Sounds was not a big seller, and Love, along with the other Boys, wanted to go back to the surf formula to have hit records. It was clearly never going to happen – at one point the young Brian shouts “we’re being left behind”.
One could argue that the story fits in too neatly with the American idea of redemption, that the ending is far too neat and tidy, but to be fair it’s pretty much what happened. Wilson did indeed wrestle himself away from the dreadful Doctor and get back to making music. The only sadness is that by the time he did finally manage to record Smile, his voice was so wrecked by the drugs that those glorious harmonies were never given the voice they deserved. To use a technical term, his voice was screwed. It’s also sobering to think that he has been making music since 1963, and the truly great stuff could all fit easily onto a single CD, hardly a prolific output.
Still, this film is a fitting tribute to a man who tried as hard as he could to get the most out of his talent, and to a woman who would not give up on him. For that we should all be grateful.
Overall verdict: mightily powerful biopic about one of the most fascinating musical talents of our time. Visually and sonically spot on, it has brilliant performances and a script which hits the bullseye repeatedly.
Reviewer: Mike Martin