Take That’s latest documentary on Netflix offers a nostalgic revisit of the iconic British band’s tumultuous journey, but it raises more questions than it answers. While it taps into a wealth of previously unseen footage, the absence of key members Robbie Williams and Jason Orange, who both stepped back from the limelight in 2014, casts a shadow over the narrative. This film is less a revelation and more a sanitised retelling of a story that has been told before—one that is both compelling and, at times, frustratingly familiar.
Revisiting the Past
The band’s first documentary, aired in 2005, came at a time when they were down and out, having disbanded nearly a decade prior. Gary Barlow and Mark Owen were without record deals, Jason Orange had turned his back on acting, and Howard Donald was enjoying the quieter joys of fatherhood. Only Robbie Williams remained in the public eye, albeit on shaky ground with his ill-fated album Rudebox looming. The emotional weight of that earlier documentary resonated deeply with viewers, drawing in over six million and paving the way for a reunion that would see Take That reclaim their place atop the British pop scene.
Fast forward to today, and the band is poised for yet another chapter, gearing up to embark on a stadium tour expected to attract a million fans. This new documentary, however, feels more like an exercise in nostalgia than a fresh exploration of their legacy.
A Band of Equals?
Throughout the film, the narrative revisits Take That’s rise to fame, beginning with their formation in 1990 and the subsequent tensions that arose within the group. Barlow is painted as a dominant force, often dismissive of his bandmates’ contributions, which left them feeling undervalued. Howard Donald recalls feeling like “backing dancers and puppets,” as Barlow’s ambition eclipsed their collective spirit. Williams’ struggles with addiction and his eventual departure in 1995 are recounted with a heavy heart, echoing sentiments previously shared in the earlier documentary.
Some revelations do emerge, notably the pivotal moment when Orange insisted on severing ties with their original manager, Nigel Martin-Smith, and proposed a more equitable distribution of royalties. This shift not only redefined their working relationship but also revitalised their collective creativity, allowing each member to feel like an artist again. Barlow’s candid reflection on his earlier selfishness is a moment of growth, yet it feels like a retread for those familiar with their narrative.
The Reunion and Beyond
The film captures the bittersweet reunion of Take That with Williams in 2010, a moment fraught with uncertainty but ultimately rewarding. Despite initial doubts about Williams’ return, the chemistry between the members is palpable in behind-the-scenes footage, revealing the camaraderie that had endured despite their tumultuous history. Owen expresses relief and joy at Williams’ return, highlighting a sense of closure for the group.
However, the documentary swiftly glosses over the subsequent decade, almost as if to acknowledge that their recent history lacks the drama that once defined them. Barlow’s nonchalant admission that the band need not worry about the success of future albums underscores a sense of complacency. They are now firmly established as a national treasure, yet this documentary raises the question: what happens when the story becomes too comfortable?
Why it Matters
Take That’s documentary serves as a reminder of the complexity of fame and the personal struggles entwined with public personas. While it lacks the raw emotional depth of its predecessor, it still offers valuable insights into the band’s evolution. As they navigate the landscape of their legacy, the film ultimately leaves fans with a bittersweet reminder that even in the realm of pop superstardom, reconciliation and growth are ongoing journeys. In a world that often prioritises youth and novelty, the perseverance of Take That, amid their trials and triumphs, continues to resonate, proving that their story is far from over.
