Chris Smith’s documentary is an affectionate, enjoyable account of Andrew Ridgeley and George Michael’s friendship. Its archive brings them close, though the fondness too often discourages the questions that would make this more revealing.
Chris Smith’s documentary is warm, brisk and worth an evening, though it is less curious than its subjects deserve. Its most persuasive subject is the friendship between Andrew Ridgeley and George Michael, particularly the support Ridgeley gives Michael’s developing songwriting. There is enough here to make that support interesting in its own right. We do not need a quarrel to make a partnership worth watching, and the director is sensible enough not to manufacture one.
Editor Gregor Lyon brings George Michael’s archive recordings together with Andrew Ridgeley’s reflections, giving their separate accounts the ease of a conversation. We were moved by Ridgeley’s support for his friend’s songwriting: hearing him value that talent makes their affection convincing without a speech about loyalty. That matters because the film asks us to care about both men, despite their different contributions to the music. Both are given room to talk.
The scrapbook framing and animation give the archive a shape without smothering it in explanation. It is an approachable way of presenting the material, keeping our attention on the two men without making the documentary’s assembly a distraction. We can enjoy their recollections without being instructed to regard every remembered moment as a landmark. The format is well suited to the early account of the duo finding their way.
Tim Atack has the music credit, and the film sensibly lets the songs provide much of its momentum. Their energy keeps the account buoyant when the storytelling grows hurried. What we miss is sustained attention to how that music was made: admiration for a songwriter is a beginning, and the film too often treats it as sufficient. The archive offers plenty to enjoy, but the musical discussion needs more time.
The larger reservation is that Chris Smith seems reluctant to let a difficult question interrupt a fond recollection. A documentary need not punish its subjects for being successful, and there is something welcome about the lack of appetite for scandal here. But friendship can withstand closer inspection than it receives. We want to understand what each man needed from the other, beyond the broad account of encouragement and ambition that the film supplies.
That limit is felt most keenly with Andrew Ridgeley, whose importance is acknowledged without his life getting quite the same attention. The film makes us interested in him, then seems content to have established that he was a good friend. George Michael’s archive voice is candid enough to suggest how much further the account might have gone. Neither man needs to be diminished for the portrait to become fuller.
We welcome a music documentary that takes encouragement seriously without insisting on a rivalry. The familiar demand for friction can make a supportive friend seem like someone a film has to work around; here, his place in the story matters. At 92 minutes, there is room for that emphasis without exhausting the appeal of the archive. Choose it for a relaxed evening with the music, not a searching biography.
