It would have been nice if he [the director] got meatier, or rarer, material from Wyman regarding what the film’s potential audience cares about most – the story of the Stones.
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There’s no thrill, no visceral heartbreak, no fist-pumping revelation. This is just a guy telling you about himself, growing up, growing old, and navigating the Stones’ massive celebrity.
In the end, the film feels like a sketch that’s been offered in place of a portrait.
To watch The Quiet One at this particular moment in time is to feel that not only is this a highly subjective take, but that you’re being a little jerked around here. Even the most diehard Stones fan is bound to leave feeling a little conflicted. It’s a documentary that lives up to its name in all the wrong ways.
Los Angeles Times by Gary Goldstein
A lovely closing story about Wyman and his idol Ray Charles speaks volumes.
The New York Times by Glenn Kenny
Wyman narrates throughout, and his innate common sense can be persuasive.
Murray’s job was to curate the extensive Wyman collection and turn it into a story, and he does so without ever digging too deep into Wyman’s psyche.
It’s a fascinating film, jaw-dropping in its breath and potential depth, even if it skims the surface of what the grinding, isolating life that level of wealth and fame brings with it.
The movie is congenial, self-effacing, and reasonably dull, and since it promises an inside look at 30 years of being a Rolling Stone, that has to be considered a disappointment. On the other hand, Oliver Murray’s film about the life and times of Bill Wyman offers proof that even average blokes can be rock stars, and maybe more of them than we think.