Review: Todd Haynes makes a 'Velvet Underground' documentary as layered and artful as the band's songs — and as hard as to connect with

The director Todd Haynes has made, in “The Velvet Underground,” the most appropriate documentary possible for the influential avant-garde rock band: An eclectic, challenging and artful movie that a lot of people may not get.

There are moments that Haynes, the director of such narrative gems as “Carol” and “Velvet Goldmine,” absolutely floors us with his visual daring. There’s a moment, early in the film, where several people try to describe the Velvet Underground’s front man, Lou Reed — while, in a split screen, an unbroken three-minute take of Reed’s face runs alongside. That’s followed by a similar three-minute image of Reed’s collaborator, the Welsh composer John Cale, while people talk about what he brought to the band.

After that, Haynes sets the scene for the world in which the Velvets were to enter. Starting with the conformity of the 1950s and into the free-spirited ‘60s, Haynes uses archival footage and some dynamic interviews to introduce viewers to the crazy art scene of ‘60s New York. The ringmaster of the biggest gathering spot was Andy Warhol, who opened up The Factory, a combination of art studio and hangout spot. Warhol encouraged Reed and Cale to start performing, and with drummer Maureen Tucker and guitarist Sterling Morrison, they became The Factory’s in-house band.

Cale brought the musicianship, as a classically trained violist who morphed into an experimental composer who once (as it’s described in a clip from the old game show “I’ve Got a Secret”) performed an 18-hour concert. Reed brought the lyrics, dark poetry gleaned from his experiences with heroin and the characters he knew on the New York streets.

When it came time to record an album, though, Warhol decided the band needed something more. That something was a German singer-songwriter with an ethereal voice, who went by the name Nico. Reed and Cale fought over how to incorporate Nico into the band’s musical dynamic — and the result was a now-legendary album, “The Velvet Underground and Nico,” whose banana-peel cover Warhol designed.

More music, and more fights, followed — most of them about who was in control of the band’s direction. Ultimately, Reed won that fight, because Cale was out. The band’s commercial success grew — they had their most recognizable hit, “Sweet Jane,” after Cale’s departure — but the art-rock spark wasn’t as bright and as brash as before.

Haynes’ documentary is lively and thorough, with plenty of interviews from people who were on the scene — including the experimental filmmaker Jonas Mekas (who died in 2019) as well as Warhol devotees Mary Woronov (who became an actress, in such cult classics as “Eating Raoul”) and Amy Taubin (who became a prominent film critic, with whom I’ve stood in line at several Sundance Film Festival screenings).

Haynes’ film is also quite dense, visually and sonically, which feels proper when trying to get a viewer close to the sensory experience of the band’s performances. But it’s not the most accessible of films, and a viewer unfamiliar with the Velvet Underground may feel overwhelmed by it all.

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‘The Velvet Underground’

★★★

Available for streaming starting October 15 on Apple TV+. Rated R for language, sexual content, nudity and some drug material. Running time: 121 minutes.