This reminds me of the Waldorf Salad episode of Fawlty Towers where the two women guests are eating dinner and one says the food is awful, and the other, trying to be bright, carves a tiny piece out of a chop, holds it up on her fork and says, see, here's a nice bit.
You won't get that attempt at brightness from me -- this thing is a disgrace. The length couldn't adequately cover the making of one Pie album or even a clothes shopping trip by the Small Faces, never mind the career of one of music's most gifted singers and performers. Bad enough that Pie isn't in that damnable RRHOF, but when those Jann Wenner pinheads finally decided that the Small Faces and the Faces should be inducted, they put them both together like some sort of cheap deal at a dumpy discount store. Steve and Ronnie Lane didn't even live to see it. Then THIS is supposed to be a doco that Steve deserves?
The "nice bit" carved out of this rancid pork chop is the revoltingly limited interview footage with Peter Frampton, Rick Wills, Clem Clempson, and especially Simon Kirke, a guy whose socks I'd wash BY HAND, he's one of the best drummers to ever draw breath, and drummers are THE only master race, pass it around. What they have to offer is golden, and from what I could tell, not only severely, but badly edited. Not one word from the Small Faces, or Glyn Johns, who had a colorful opinion of working with Steve, any of the Stones, anyone else you'd need to speak to to do this properly. Some old Beat Club and bootleg footage that just makes you want to cry. Done. Nothing is properly covered, not one element of his life, and he had a hard life, and a passing giggle about him and Stephen Stills going through four fifths of Jack Daniels and a notable snowstorm while working on Smokin' is juvenile and idiotic, especially when you consider the price both paid for their addictions. I'm not talking moralizing, I'm talking ACKNOWLEDGING.
When CDs came out, it was a boon because albums that were long out of print, songs impossible to find, were released, but the bad part was that any piece of badly-reproduced garbage was also put on CD as well. When VHS came about, the same good things happened with films and bootlegs, but a lot of yahoos put down the pipe and straw long enough to make these dreadful "documentaries" on bands that rabid fans would buy, just to see that these tapes were cheap pastiches you were embarrassed to look at. That's what we have going on now on so many of these "specialist" streaming services. If these people can't be bothered or don't have the talent to make a proper film, then just give me the uninterrupted, unedited interview footage with people like Frampton and Kirke. RIP, Steve.