95 mins |
Rated
R (for language, drug material and brief nudity.)
Directed by A.J. Eaton
Starring David Crosby, Stephen Stills
In “David Crosby: Remember My Name,” A.J. Eaton’s moving and elegiac rock-nostalgia documentary, David Crosby appears before us as an older and wiser hippie troubadour, his signature long locks and frontier mustache now white, his spirit chastened but still keyed to the muse of his holy boomer-rock self. In the movie, Crosby speaks with candor about all the drugs he did, the women he “didn’t love enough,” the abuse he handed out to his body and soul. Yet he’s not apologizing; he’s testifying. In “Remember My Name,” he treats his life as a shamanistic parable of pleasure and pain, beauty and loss.
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In “David Crosby: Remember My Name,” A.J. Eaton’s moving and elegiac rock-nostalgia documentary, David Crosby appears before us as an older and wiser hippie troubadour, his signature long locks and frontier mustache now white, his spirit chastened but still keyed to the muse of his holy boomer-rock self. In the movie, Crosby speaks with candor about all the drugs he did, the women he “didn’t love enough,” the abuse he handed out to his body and soul. Yet he’s not apologizing; he’s testifying. In “Remember My Name,” he treats his life as a shamanistic parable of pleasure and pain, beauty and loss.