[ed. See also: The Tao of Joe Walsh.]
Did I know that music critics picked them apart for being more successful than they should have been? Absolutely not. I never knew the band abused their bodies and went through groupies like they were Marlboro Reds. I never knew three different Eagles guitarists left the band for stereotypically awesome reasons: jealousy, infighting, warring creative visions, credit jockeying, even a beer that was derisively poured on Frey's head. I never knew when the Eagles split up, much less why, or if it mattered. That ubiquitous classic rock format kept every '70s band relevant. The Eagles were broken up, but really, they weren't.
Two years after I graduated college, they reunited for 1994's "Hell Freezes Over" tour, a shameless money grab disguised as their long-awaited reunion. Nostalgia rock had been generating big bucks for every past-its-prime act. Pink Floyd, Aerosmith and the Rolling Stones sold out stadiums like it was 1975. Billy Joel and Elton John toured America together, even overlapping for a few songs every show. And now, the Eagles were freezing hell. I remember having a chance to see them and quickly passing. Take it easy, Eagles.
From that point on, I never thought about them unless Chris Berman was involved. That changed this spring, right after Showtime started showing Alison Ellwood's documentary about them. I have watched The History of the Eagles, Part One five times, not counting all the other times it sucked me in for 15-minute stretches. I have participated in multiple Eagles-related e-mail chains that I may or may not have started. I have gone down Eagles-related rabbit holes on Google so cavernous that I once typed the words "Stevie Nicks Don Henley abortion." (Yes, things come up.) Two different times, a friend e-mailed me just to say, "I was talking about the Eagles doc with [fill in our mutual friend]. I had no idea you loved it, too!" (...)
You know what else? The Eagles were significantly bigger than I ever realized. Really, there wasn't a more successful, popular or famous American band in the 1970s. Even today, their first greatest hits album (released in 1976, almost one year before Hotel California came out) is still battling neck and neck with Thriller as the highest-selling album of all time. That dumbfounding fact alone made the Eagles worthy of a documentary, even if a 215-minute treatment was unquestionably overboard. Part One handles their creation and ascent, their battles with fame and cocaine (since when were those six words anything but awesome?), every major fight they ever had (ditto), every possible reason they broke up (ditto), and then their actual breakup after an acrimonious concert highlighted by Glenn Frey repeatedly threatening to kick a band mate's ass (even though Frey probably weighed a buck fifty at the time).
In my humble opinion, it's the finest documentary ever made about the rise and fall of a memorable rock band, as well as a superb commentary on the dangers of fame and excess. You'll recognize pieces of Almost Famous in it, and that's not by accident — Cameron Crowe covered them for Rolling Stone, eventually creating Stillwater as a hybrid of the Allman Brothers and the Eagles (with a little Led Zep mixed in). There's more than a little Frey and Henley in Jeff Bebe and Russell Hammond.
The film should have ended there. But since the band wanted something covering their entire history from 1971 until today, Part Two sprawlingly covers their post-breakup careers and their reunion. It's excessive, to say the least. I would have been fine with an eight-minute epilogue. Although I did enjoy Part Two's attempt to make Frey's acting career seem successful, as well as any Eagle pretending they returned for any reason other than "gobs and gobs of money." There's one unintentionally hilarious part: Henley and Frey painstakingly rehashing the creative process for "Get Over It" as if they're discussing "Hotel California" or something. I also enjoyed guitarist Don Felder bitching about reunion royalties; Felder believed he should be earning as much money as Henley and Frey when, again, he was Don Felder. It was like the 1993 Bulls reuniting, then Horace Grant fighting to be paid as much as Michael and Scottie.
Fine, you got me — I've watched Part Two twice even though it's 70 minutes too long. I can't help it. But Part One? Part One is magnificent. It's one of my favorite documentaries ever. Without further ado, my 20 favorite things about The History of the Eagles, Part One.
Image: Ken Garduno
