The Tragically Hip are truly "Canada's band" — both because of the quintessentially Canuck content of Gord Downie's lyrics, and because they never reached the same level of success internationally than they did here at home. While other big Canadian stars inevitably end up based in Los Angeles, the Hip have remained Kingston to the core, giving Canadians a sense of ownership over a group who still feel like a local secret. If you know, you know.
That sense is intensified by the band's emotional four-part Prime Video documentary, No Dress Rehearsal, which relies on an all-star cast of Canadians to articulate exactly why this band has meant so much to the country. Jay Baruchel, Bruce McCulloch, Will Arnett, Geddy Lee, Dan Aykroyd, Ron MacLean, Sarah Harmer and even a teary-eyed Justin Trudeau are among the people who speak about the band in reverent tones, articulating a Canadianness that they hasten to point out isn't nationalistic or even patriotic. Rather, the band are simply capturing a common Canadian experience — whether that means sampling loons (on "Wheat Kings") and singing about hockey (on "Fifty Mission Cap"), or drawing attention to Canada's genocide of Indigenous peoples (something Downie devoted the final years of his life to acknowledging). The docuseries speaks to the band's existing fanbase of Canadians, rather than trying to find new audiences.
No Dress Rehearsal is directed by Gord Downie's older brother Mike, meaning that it's inherently a flattering, loving tribute. That said, he doesn't shy away from elements that complicate the band's reputation as a group of loveable high school buds. Disagreements emerge early on in the band's career, when frontman Downie insists on writing all of the band's lyrics, even though bassist Gord Sinclair had written the band's debut single. There's also a contentious falling out with Davis Manning, the saxophonist who was part of the group's early lineup. (I've been a fan of the Hip since the mid-'90s and never knew they had a sax player until now.)
Those tensions ramp up significantly by the third episode. Following the group's triumphant run from 1989's Up to Here to 1998's Phantom Power, the five friends are pulled apart by family commitments and geographical distance (with Gord Downie moving to Toronto and the rest remaining in Kingston). They freely acknowledge that their later albums aren't as good as their early ones, and they dig deep into the struggles for creative control that marred their later works. They refer to 2009's We Are the Same bluntly as We Are NOT the Same, and guitarist Rob Baker is forthright about how tensions with Downie worsened his own struggles with alcohol.
Mike Downie holds back in regards to the band members' personal lives. Marriages and divorces are alluded to but never interrogated, and Downie's late-in-life separation from his wife (which occurred just before his cancer diagnosis) is understandably but disappointingly omitted. Interviews with Gord Downie's daughter Willo and sister Paula add a personal dimension to the story that would have been nice to have even more of.
No Dress Rehearsal is adeptly but unobtrusively edited, telling a largely chronological story that naturally moves from album to album without feeling like a dry Wikipedia entry. Drawing on a wealth of archival clips, family photos and home movies, it's full of illuminating footage, including extensive interviews with the four surviving members.
At the heart of the story, of course, is Gord Downie — whose art and personality retain a certain enigma in spite of this deep dive. His tragic absence means that he's never able to offer the same level of career retrospection as his bandmates. The final episode, which covers the end of the Hip as well as his later solo works and activism, is a tear-jerker.
And yet, even in its saddest moments, No Dress Rehearsal is about celebrating rather than wallowing. Appearing at my critics' screening to introduce the series, Mike Downie explained that directing the series was his way of processing the grief of his brother's death. With these four episodes, he's created the perfect monument to the Hip's inspiring career, breaking down the myth while highlighting the legacy. When I left the theatre after my screening, I had the Hip blasting on my headphones for the commute home — a clear sign of a music doc well done.