The second feature-length documentary by UK filmmaker Toby Amies, and first by anyone about the progressive rock band King Crimson, has reputedly been pieced together over four years, and its release is being marked by a timezone-staggered day of simultaneous worldwide screenings. The publicity for In The Court Of The Crimson King says they’ve “sidestepped traditional broadcast platforms in order to bring the film direct to their fans”. Robert Fripp, the group’s benevolent dictator and sole remaining founder member, undermined this slightly earlier this year, lamenting a lack of interest from the likes of Netflix. Regardless of where it’s viewed, it’s an entertaining, illuminating and touching hour and a half, with the potential to appeal outside the band’s immediate fanbase.
That base is sizeable and, yes, global, if self-contained: King Crimson, now extant for over half a century, might be the world’s biggest underground band (they’ve played Cardiff twice in the last seven years, and each would have generated six-figure sums from ticket sales). People are drawn to their matchless musical prowess; the manner in which individual virtuosity combines into a single, monstrous force. To fulfil this, the band members have to maintain an intense rehearsal schedule, where it seems Fripp turns tyrant boss. Amies favours a slightly odd presentation, where we hear his bandmates make inferences about this while, given Fripp’s substantial involvement in In The Court…, we’re left wondering how seriously we should take it.
Some of the many former Crimson members paint similar pictures to the current crop – from long-gone participants on the debut LP that shares this film’s title to prog rock supermen like Bill Bruford (“It’s the dream band… viewed from outside”) and Adrian Belew (“I didn’t know King Crimson was somebody’s band”). These venerable, well-spoken artists are candid but respectful: if you tune in to hear of serious, Guns N’ Roses-type mutual loathing, you’ll be disappointed. Even when Fripp reverts to a sort of growl while comparing the disappointment of past band members letting him down to the death of his mother, you sense this is at least in part ‘the character Robert Fripp’ being channelled here. Speaking of death, the inclusion of latter-era member Bill Reiflin discussing his myriad health issues, and his defiance of doctors’ suggestions he retires, inserts a tragic note, the drummer having passed away in 2020.
There are other entertaining segments of In The Court… which operate outside its core narrative but add worthwhile context. Sister Dana Benedicta – a Polish nun who appears to be an associate of the band, although it’s not actually specified – observes that “there is lots of listening in this music”, which is a wiser critique than it may sound. Concert footage is sparse (though plenty is available for purchase elsewhere); at one amphitheatre show, Amies films a fan as security reprimands them for taking a quick photo, which must have been rather galling for the punter.
This is by no means an unfailingly flattering portrait of this band, especially its sole constant presence, but if In The Court Of The Crimson King’s content hasn’t been controlled by Robert Fripp, it certainly has his approval. (Toyah Wilcox, his partner in life and occasionally-viral home videos, is credited with additional footage.) He, and the savants at his beck and call, are too arch and genial to be capable of presenting themselves as mirthless perfectionists, even if they wanted to. To that end, it’s highly watchable in the same paradoxical way as one of the band’s live shows, albeit with the feel of a rather lower budget.
Dir: Toby Amies (86 minutes)
In The Court Of The Crimson King will screen worldwide on Sat 22 Oct (info: here)
words NOEL GARDNER