Patti smith: Dream of Life

Time Out New York Review of "Dream of Life"

If it’s been a while since you’ve given Horses a spin—like, say, never—Patti Smith: Dream of Life is not the place to start. An abstract, rambling profile of the protopunk legend hobbled by arty self-indulgence, the doc is the result of fashion photographer Steven Sebring’s total immersion in his subject, trailing her for more than a decade. As a result, Dream of Life can’t help but feel intimate: Tender moments include Smith strumming and reminiscing with ex–Chelsea Hotel flame Sam Shepard, romping on the beach with Flea and cooing a lullaby to her cat.

But having privileged access and elucidating a mysterious figure are two different things. Sebring makes the crucial mistake of assuming his viewers are all Smithologists. (Even for them, the film might be too vague to become a holy object.) Amazingly, there is no testimony to contextualize her impact on the punk world, nothing at all about the horrendous 1977 onstage injury—she broke several neck vertebrae—that almost cost Smith her career. The live footage is choppy and interrupted; almost perversely, we never hear Smith’s gorgeous hit “Because the Night.” And the great question mark over Smith’s life—why she retreated from the spotlight along with her husband, White Panther and former MC5er Fred “Sonic” Smith—is not probed.

Instead, we get a lot of the singer’s poetry and recent political activism, and many sweet moments with her children and doting parents. Sebring is a sentimentalist, and his film comes alive when Smith melts into warm memories of going to Coney Island with Robert Mapplethorpe and getting hot dogs. But the opportunity to introduce newbies to a serious music-world icon—and her significance—feels squandered.

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