Overview
In Blur: To the End, headlining London's famous Wembley Stadium is the pinnacle of Damon Albarn, Graham Coxon, Alex James and Dave Rowntree's careers so far. For two nights in July 2023, the Britpop band played their biggest-ever gigs to a crowd of 150,000 — shows that had been a dream not just since the group initially formed in 1988, but when high-school friends Albarn and Coxon watched 1985's iconic Live Aid concert on TV. Blur enjoyed no shortage of highlights in 35 years beforehand, of course; thinking about British music in the 90s means thinking about the foursome instantly. Still, in the latest documentary to turn the camera their way, which is playing big screens in Australia thanks to the 2024 British Film Festival, there's no doubting what standing on Wembley's stage at this point in their journeys, after reinventions, hiatuses, reunions, solo projects and more, means to the band.
If the feeling that's written across Albarn, Coxon, James and Rowntree's faces when To the End finishes could be summed up by a snippet from one of their songs, the "woo hoo!" chorus from 1997 hit 'Song 2' would actually work nicely. That sensation — that immense emotional reaction, too — is evident not only in the intimate doco from Transgressive record label co-founder, filmmaker and lifelong Blur fan Toby L, however. It's also clear in accompanying concert film Blur: Live From Wembley Stadium, which captures the first night's show in like-you're-there detail (including largely sticking close to the band, so that viewers can truly witness what the gig means to them as they work through a two-hour set filled with everything from 'Popscene', 'Girls & Boys', 'Parklife' and 'Country House' to 'This Is a Low', 'To the End', 'Tender', 'The Universal' and 'The Narcissist').
Asked about what that pure joy was like to witness — Albarn comments in the film that the moment was as good as it gets — Toby L stresses how it genuinely did feel like the pinnacle for the band. "I can honestly say yes. And I know that if all four of them were asked that question, they would all agree. Which is amazing, because what must be it like to be at this point in your lives where you feel you've done one of your best albums, and you've done your best and biggest gigs?" he tells Concrete Playground. "I think just on a completely subconscious level for any performer, even if they pretend they don't want to get to that level, I think there's that sense of attainment and achievement that is the zenith of possibility. To not only play it, but to headline it and sell it out, I think it is the bucket list for every artist, potentially, that wants to get to a certain level."
"And the feeling in the stadium both nights was so electric. I've been through a lot of big gigs and a lot of stadiums and a lot of festival shows, and they're always fun but, truthfully, sometimes the scale is just hard to make it feel personal and intimate. But somehow those gigs were. And anyone that was there — people that work in the music industry, everyone has recounted how something happened that was next-level in terms of the emotional connection," Toby L continues. "So yeah, it really was what the film portrays, that sense of it being a bit magic, and Damon being quite rarely open about the fact it's kind of the pinnacle, that was the truth. And I feel honoured and privileged to have been part of that in a small way."
Reuben Bastienne-Lewis
Toby L's own Blur journey also began decades back, as a fan since he was a kid. He has an early tie to Wembley, too, but at the indoor Wembley Arena, which sits next to the stadium. In the 90s, he saw his first-ever live gig at the venue — and yes, at that show when he was at age of ten, he was watching Blur. From his mid-teens, a career linked to music beckoned. He's blogged, founded music sites, organised live events, hosted TV, started his label 20 years back, and directed Olivia Rodrigo's Sour Prom, Rihanna's 777, Liam Gallagher: Knebworth 22 and more. Collaborations Albarn and Coxon first came through Transgressive, before he heard word about Blur's Wembley Stadium shows.
That connection didn't mean that Toby L was a sure thing behind the camera when the idea of immortalising the gigs arose. His plan was always exactly what audiences can experience now, though: the full concert experience in one film — plus the path to it, through Blur reuniting in Albarn's country house in Devon to make their first album in eight years, then doing warm-up gigs, playing other festival sets and finally hitting Wembley, in another. The latter eschews the biodoc treatment for the here and now, for four men musing on their twists and turns together and apart, and for diving into friendship and mortality as well. Live From Wembley Stadium and To the End make a helluva pair, which Melburnians can see in a double feature at The Astor Theatre for one night only.
How did the band respond to the two-movie plan? How did Toby L carve out a space for To the End when past documentaries such as No Distance Left to Run and Blur: New World Towers exist? How open were Albarn and company to such a close-up approach? We also chatted with the filmmaker about the above — as well as how being a fan shaped his role as a director, ensuring that the concert film felt equally intimate, and the longevity of both Blur and Oasis. ("Let's put it this way: I think Blur were my first band, and working with Liam was also a completely wonderful experience. Totally different. But a wonderful thing," he advises.)
On the Pitch to Make Two Films About Blur's Wembley Gigs — and the Band's Reaction
"It all stemmed back from me discovering about the gigs on the d-low, as it were. I was with Damon talking about a completely different project, and Wembley came up in discussion. I think he might have cheekily brought it up with that cheeky glint in his eye and his shining gold tooth, probably he was quite excited about the surprise element of it about to hit the newswires.
I'd already done some filming with Damon around his second solo album, so he knew that I was in that world slightly. I think I probably quite embarrassingly and tritely said 'I'd love to throw my hat in', quite literally that basic. And I remember him just saying cryptically, both supportively but then also very vaguely, 'I would like that, too'.
Then that was it. It wasn't spoken about for with him probably for another six months, during which time I felt that that was enough latitude for me to put a treatment together of what I would do with the documentary and the concert film. The original treatment and proposal that I put together, which was the written treatment, it was quite extensive, it was quite specific, and it stipulated that I felt there were two films.
I felt that people would want to see a concert film, almost eternally as an evergreen Blur piece of memorabilia or document of that moment. But then I felt there was an opportunity for a wider story, hence the documentary, which was about getting older and growing up, and reconciling friendship, and mortality, and I guess some deeper human themes. And I just thought that'd be interesting to transpose into the situation Blur were finding themselves in, where they were getting back together for the first time in almost a decade, and they were that much older and about to undertake their biggest challenge yet, which was their biggest-ever gig.
So it felt like to me there was a really cool story there that wasn't necessarily predicated on 'and then this album came out in this year, and then they had this fight with Oasis' and all the shit that most people can find on a Wikipedia page. So that was the premise of it, really. It was that — and then me waiting for months and hearing nothing.
I thought I might have disgraced myself or embarrassed myself. Then suddenly, quite out of nowhere, I had a breakfast with the band's manager. I thought she was going to let me down because I hadn't heard anything. We're talking about other things and other projects, and then about an hour and a half into two-and-a-half hour breakfast, that's when she dropped the bombshell that they'd gone through the treatments and they thought mine was the strongest, regardless of relationships, which was really flattering.
Then I had to have a meeting with all four of them the following week or so to convince them I could do it. Ten days later, we were filming in Devon."
On Making To the End to Complement, Not Repeat, Past Documentaries About Blur
"In a weird way, there was a relief that No Distance Left to Run had come out. Because that film did the job of 'if you don't know who Blur are or even if you do, here's their story'. It was the legacy story, if you will. It talks the viewer beautifully through how they came to be, and some career highs and lows, and key eras in their career, and the initial downfall. I thought that film did that job, so it was a relief that I didn't have to retread that old ground.
But the one thing I felt that was completely up for opportunity was 'where are Blur at now?'. They're mid-to-late 50s, they're about to do, again, genuinely their biggest-ever gigs. There's nothing bigger than doing Wembley Stadium, in a way. So it just felt like this was a pivotal moment to reflect on their present state of being rather than reflecting on their career as a whole.
Inevitably there are moments and flashbacks to their career, but really it's all in the context of the here and now. And I guess I wanted to do a bit more of a philosophical, emotional character portrait of the four of them, which I felt hadn't necessarily been done in the other documentaries. The other documentaries, even though this has a specific journey of sorts, they had more of a clear function than an emotional character study.
Ultimately, I was lucky that the band were up for going there. Because I could have had this in my head and then, understandably, they might have been like 'fuck off, that's a bit personal'. Thankfully, they didn't respond that way. They understood what the essence of the project was — that my intent wasn't to expose them or show them up, it was to unveil a perspective that many people don't often see in a stadium band, which is the vulnerability and the drive and the motivation behind what it takes to be that kind of individual. And also what it takes to maintain a relationship after such a long time, which isn't easy.
A lot of people have this entitlement that bands can and should live forever but, I don't know about you, how would you like it if you were stuffed in a tour bus for years on end even with your closest friends or family, and being forced to smile for the media and perform on no sleep? I think it's going to drive anyone a bit bananas.
So I think that's kind of where I was coming from with the project. I was wanting to show something that could create a real bridge between the viewer and the subject, and hopefully a totem of empathy in this fractured age of ours."
On the Band's Openness to To the End's Intimate Approach
"We all agreed that was the way it was going to be best. That was the way I portrayed it in my treatment, and that was the way they were comfortable with it being captured. I think they had maybe moments before where they've been filmed for other projects and television, where they were just a bit — they're at this point in their career where they don't need to do this, right. It's like they don't need to do any of it. Their career is set. They don't necessarily need to reunite at all. They don't necessarily need to come back with a great album. They don't even necessarily need to make a documentary of any of that activity. But the reason they're doing it is because they want to, and they feel that there's a purpose to it.
So equally the filmmaking had to have that element to it. It needed to not be interruptive to the point that the band couldn't do what they needed to do. And it needed to be an honest portrayal and a mirror to their activities. I actually think that's way more interesting than 'let's get the lighting up, let's sit them down, let's ask them the same questions — oh, retake that answer because we didn't get audio'. I just think it's so much more exciting to be in the present.
It's technically quite a hard thing to do as a documentary crew because on the one hand, you're trying to be invisible and fly-on-the-wall — but then on the other, you need to also make sure you're guiding the viewer at points so it doesn't just feel like complete empty, vapid voyeurism with no purpose. So it's this tightrope you're walking between being sensitive to what's going on, but then also making sure that you're getting the insights that will contextualise the moment in real time. It's a tough thing to get right, and there are many famous examples of filmmakers being barked out by artists to 'get the eff out of the dressing room'.
And that's always the risk, that you go too far or, equally the other way, you don't go far enough and then you haven't really got much to work with. Thankfully, the band were open to that way of working, and I think it's hopefully to the film's credit that the viewer gets that level of intimacy and access that is probably increasingly uncommon in these sorts of projects."
On How Seeing Blur at Age Ten and Being a Fan Since Childhood Shaped Directing Two Films About the Band
"I think being a fan is really useful, actually, because you just got that knowledge. It's quite an embarrassing, hilarious thing to say, but occasionally there'd be moments where they're trying to recount a song title from 1992 that was the B-side to a single — and being a massive nerd, you can go 'oh, was it this one?'. And then they all look at you and go 'yes, that's what it was'.
And the irony is, apart from being vaguely helpful in moments like that, there's also just that sense of trust. You're not there to do a hatchet job. You're not there to trip them up. You're not there to be secretly a dissenting voice that's trying to throw them down. You are a fan. So you're coming at it from a pure place. So then the challenge becomes, in terms of credible filmmaking and documentary-making, how do you straddle that fandom with telling the truth and making sure you're being as objective as any one person can be objective?
So that then is probably the other tightrope to walk, ensuring that your enthusiasm and your passion and your love for your subjects doesn't contaminate the need to extract truth, and to make sure that there's an honesty to the whole thing. Because otherwise it could just fall into being sycophancy or just a PR puff piece. And that was another thing we said when we all got together, that we hated documentaries that were too clean and too 'and isn't life perfect'.
To that end, I think I really made sure that the enthusiasm of being a fan of the band didn't cloud my judgment. And hopefully anyone that watches it will agree that it's rare to see a band this vulnerable on-camera of their level, and so hopefully people will appreciate the fact that this is definitely a real account of who they are."
On Finding Intimacy in Live From Wembley Stadium, Too, to Convey the Experience of Being There to Cinema Audiences
"I love the way that you picked up on that approach because that was definitely, again, conscious. I just thought that the worst way to capture this gig was going to make it just be 'look, it's the Wembley Stadium gig, let's have fucking loads of wides and let's make it just look big, and yeah!'. It just felt naff. I also just feel that the art of Blur live is the emotion and the chaos, and then countered by the beauty and the ballads, so the only way to really portray that for me is to have cameras quite close to them.
The idea of just dotting the cameras at some distance — obviously we've got lots of dynamic shots at various ranges in the stadium, but most of the cameras, over 50 percent of them, are just in and around the stage, and all on the audience, really close-up on the audience. Because I just thought the story is going to be on stage and the story's going to be in the moshpit. That's going to be where this magic happens.
And yeah, we're going to have some big shots at the stadium, yada yada yada, but that stuff's fairly generic to me. You could put those in any concert film of any stadium shoot and it could just apply to stock footage for any artist. But the bit that was special for me was going to be the reactions of the band playing this environment and the excitement of it all — and, again, the audience and their adulation for the moment."
On Where You Land on What Gives a Band Longevity When You've Made Films About Both Blur and Oasis
"I think obviously it's the songs. I think songs have to permeate not just in the era in which they're conceived, but most truthfully resonate with periods beyond that. A great folk song that was written probably in the 1700s or whatever travels around the hills and finds its way to become a traditional song all around the world, and then eventually becomes blues music. Good songs travel and they last, and I think songwriting is at the core.
I think then beyond that, obviously the performance of the song, the recording and the way in which it becomes indelibly linked to people's lives. If you capture the zeitgeist, which both Blur and Oasis did, as examples, it brings people back that were there first time round — or even people that weren't there, they feel that essence of connectivity and culture just resonate in the chords and in the performances and in the vocals. And that's what is effectively bottling magic. That's what music is, it's trying to find magic and it's bottling it, really, either in performance or in recording.
Both bands just had that essence of reality. They came at writing and culture in completely different ways, but totally valid respective ways. And they just endured. I know for a fact that you could play most Blur songs to a small child and they're going to enjoy them because the melodies are good. And then most adults are going to connect to them because the themes lyrically still resonate to this day.
The album Modern Life Is Rubbish by Blur, that could have been released last week, sadly. And that's ultimately what makes great art: stumbling across something that in the moment feels real, but then for decades onwards still manages to resonate. That's the art of it all, really: trying to find something eternal in the moment. "
On What You Learn About Blur When You're Making Not Just One But Two Documentaries About Them
"I think you learn that everyone, even if we've all got our own personalities, our own characteristics, we're all kind of the same person really. We all have our own needs and vulnerabilities, and strengths and weaknesses, and really that's what binds us all as a human race.
And that's why I think it's so harrowing, the state of the world that we find ourselves in right now. Because I think that there are forces that are trying to falsely attribute disparity to our state of being, when actually we're all fucking similar and that's what we should be focusing on, our common ground, not our points of distinction.
I think what I learned was that the fallibility and the brilliance in them is eminently what unites us all. It's kind of in all of us and in all of them. So in that way, it was very grounding.
As the ten-year-old fan, what did I learn? I just learned that my favourite band were a great band to get behind. They were really complex in many ways, in terms of their unique quirks and things. They were very, very entertaining and very funny. They were very sweet and emotional people. And, ultimately, there's no other band like them to go on the stage. They really tear it up in a way that I don't think anyone before or since them has been able to do.
And so for me, what I learned was, yeah, it was a great band to fall in love with at the age of eight years old or whatever it was."
The 2024 British Film Festival tours Australia in November and December, wrapping up on Sunday, December 8. For more information and to buy tickets, visit the festival website.
Both Blur: To the End and Blur: Live From Wembley Stadium are playing at the festival's stops across the country, with the Blur double feature showing at Melbourne's Astor Theatre on Saturday, November 16, 2024.
Images: Altitude.