In the Court of the Crimson King: King Crimson at 50

Honestly, my title says it all. This truly transcends description. It's almost like after seeing this, ANY words just simply are inadequate and anything I try to say about this film and whatever I attempt to articulate would be trite and insufficient.

I know this is a VERY unusual review and not at all like any of the others that I have written. But, as I sit here typing this, I genuinely feel incapable of expressing anything even remotely approaching what I just experienced in watching this.

I rated it a '9' which is extremely rare for me and speaks for itself.

If you like the band (as it was, is, or will be...) then that speaks for itself.

And, I WILL say that if you watch this and you come to the moment where Fripp is telling about his meeting with the man who led a certain retreat, well... let's just say that unless you do not have a pulse, you will find it quite unique and unexpected...

Obviously, most highly recommended...

Leave your expectations at the door and go in with an open mind. If you are not already a fan of the band, King Crimson, then this should be easy enough. If you are and you don't already know that this is how to approach their work then I'm not sure what to say. Some interesting "totally missed the point" reviews here. I will say no more about that.

If you want a typical rock-doc about this album, that album, this producer, that sound engineer, this tour, that break-up, go elsewhere. It's already out there. Start with youtube. If you want someone to reassure you overtly that the band you love is the best, or that Robert Fripp is a compositional genius who does not suffer fools glady, go elsewhere. We already know these things.

If you want a truly fascinating, touching, illuminating, baffling, sad, funny, moving and deep dive into the mind of the true artist, artists who put music above all else, and not without personal cost, then go see this movie. Rent it, buy, it, badger your local art-house cinema to arrange a showing. Bring your friends. The smart ones.

This is not glitzy, it is not glamourous, but it is candid and honest. The shooting style is minimally invasive, totally immersive stuff - you know, like when wildlife biologists go camp out with gorillas for months on end until the gorillas start to ignore them and carry on with life as normal. Amies is literally shooting from the hip most of the time here and also asking all the dumb questions (and sometimes bearing the brunt of the fallout for doing so) on the viewer's behalf.

This is a diamond in the rough. It is about music, not showbiz. It is about the transcendent places great music can take you, the dedication and diligence of artists bearing the weight of trying to achieve those heights on a nightly basis for the audience. It is about people. Extraordinary people.

Reading the reviews I realised that many people who saw this expected it to be your typical film of the bands history, it's ups and lows and tales from the road. If that's what you're looking for, this isn't for you.

If you want to see what it means to be fully committed to your art and vision, you're going to love it. It's hard to watch sometimes and it makes you wonder is this all necessary, it makes you angry at some people and it makes you feel sorry for some. There's also rare kind of beauty in it.

If you already know the bands history and the central members of it but you want to get inside the band, this is for you. If you expect it to be something else, it'll be a letdown.

Greetings again from the darkness. King Crimson was founded in 1969 and to this day, no one can properly describe their music. Even co-founder and band leader Robert Fripp avoids labeling the music and instead states, "King Crimson is a way of doing things". Documentarian Toby Amies takes on the challenge of examining the band after 50 years.

While most associate guitarist Fripp as being the face of the band, he himself claims that it's an ensemble and always has been. But then he also describes the years 1969 through 2013 as "wretched", and that only with this most recent iteration has found satisfaction. At a minimum, Fripp is a perfectionist, and it's likely he is also a tortured genius who constantly strives for different, more, and better. He makes for a frustrating interview, and director Armies shows him mostly in various short clips, while letting current and former band members offer their opinions.

Co-founder Ian McDonald's zoom interview is the most touching. Taking place shortly before McDonald's passing in 2022, he breaks down and says, "I'm sorry Robert", for leaving Fripp and King Crimson after only a year. Obviously, there was some bad blood between the two men, even after so many years. McDonald went on to co-found the band Foreigner in the 1970's before taking on a solo career. Fripp remained with King Crimson and pursued his idea of what a band should be.

Former King Crimson bassist Trey Gunn explained being in the band was like "a low-grade infection", while current drummer/keyboardist Bill Rieflin thrived with the band. Rieflin was performing with Stage four colon cancer and countless other health issues, yet viewed making music as what he was meant to do, right up until his passing during filming of this documentary. Numerous other former members are interviewed and the comments range from annoyance to reverence. Current singer/guitarist Jakko is cautious about what he says so as not to cross Fripp. He cracks, "you're irreplaceable ... like the last bloke." It's a unique band playing unique music - a style where each world class musician plays their part based on what fellow band members (usually 8 including 3 drummers) are playing. The result is often a peak experience for the audience, even those who have attended many shows over the years. There is an interesting segment featuring a nun who is also a devoted fan of the band. She compares it to religion, and between the immersive music and Fripp's commentary, we can't help but put this in terms of philosophy, psychology, religion, and even a cult-like atmosphere. Always impeccably dressed like a British gentleman, Fripp's obsessive discipline and demanding ways, leave us with a better feel for the band, while being no closer to offering a label of description. This is not your parents' music documentary ... even if it happens to be your parents' favorite band.

In theaters November 3, 2023 and VOD beginning December 1, 2023.

This promises to be much more (a clever history) than it is (a fawning backstage tour of a current show), and had opportunities to be a) a deeper history of the band and b) wittier. Anybody who has watched Robert Fripp's home videos (of him and his wife covering a wild assortment of rock and pop tunes) knows he has a sense of humor, likes rocknroll music, and can be quite amusing and self-deprecating. The documentary focuses (much of this is connoted by editorial choices, as we frequently see Fripp walking away to do something more important) on the peeved, obsessive Latin-professor aspect of Fripp, which, while real, isn't the whole enchilada, and without being complicated by the rest of his experience and personality, the impatient-professor schtick is interesting for about 70 seconds. The film-makers lined up most of the surviving members of King Crimson from the last 50 years and got them narrate about 1.2% of their experience of the history of the band. The film spends more time lavishing its camera's eye on, I am not kidding, roadies and tech-men tinkering with equipment backstage for a current show, as they field inane questions, and mutter responses as good-naturedly as they can in the circumstances, rather than on any sort of evolutionary (or crisis-based) story of the bands called "King Crimson." About 30% of the film is such backstage or empty-house tedium--this doesn't develop into a concert movie. So there are at least two main categories of "lost opportunity" here: this isn't a concert film; this isn't a history of the band. Yet the film-makers also lined up, among many members of Crimson over the years, Ian McDonald and Michael Giles, the original reed and drum section of the band--their appearance gives hope that origins and musical anecdotes (how was the song that gave the film its title made, e.g.?) are forthcoming. McDonald and Giles may not have another opportunity to narrate the early history of the band. They left the band after its first two Lps to make a funky, major-key (in contrast to Crimson's dark heft) record (still famous; it was frequently sampled in hip-hop), a classic of its 1970-moment, and unmentioned here. Nope, no time for history from these players. Pete Sinfield, the band's original lyricist is on camera for about 30 seconds and obviously could have been a trove of witty history; after a funny note on Greg Lake (the band's original singer, pre-"Emerson, Lake, and Palmer") as a young man (the only mention of Lake in the whole documentary, though the band's current singer was obviously hired largely because he can do a spot-on Lake imitation), Sinfield vanishes; John Wetton, the singer and bassist of what I think is the most interesting (mid-1970s) version of the band, is not mentioned. Bill Bruford and Adrian Belew (former long-term band members), are, gratefully, allowed to speak at some intelligent length, but again, in bits that convey the quality of working with Fripp, not how their versions of the band came together. I have yet to see any film that explained how this band evolved, somewhat like a transformer toy, throughout the 60s, 70s, and 80s. In 1972, e.g., there were two completely different versions of Crimson (one in the spring, on tour in the USA, and another, the Bruford-Wetton version, that toured England in the fall) of the band, both quite good, and both entirely different, though they played many (not all) of the same songs. The documentary lavished too much attention on the stage-preparations of this current, grandiose cover-band version of Crimson (a three-drummer, + keyboard, + etc. Version of the band) as though it were a church of Fripp service, while it could have narrated more history about each significant version of the band.