Take That on Netflix celebrates friendship, dissects regrets, and appraises the ups and downs of a journey none of us who loved them will ever forget.
Let me start by asking you a question: Which pop group or artist helped spark your sexual awakening as a teenager? We all had at least one, or maybe more, and those groups or artists forever remain in your heart, no matter how old you get. For me, a closeted gay kid, Take That were the secret crush I dared not mention at 15; in fact, I would do everything in my power to put them down with friends as I insisted I hated their music. Yet in reality, I would secretly record their music videos on VHS from the Saturday morning Chart Show, and make sure I never missed their appearance on Live & Kicking or Top of the Pops.
Take That were not my first secret love, but they were the one that cemented my understanding of my own sexuality at 15. However, as the new Netflix documentary series Take That highlights, I wasn’t the only one hiding my insecurities, desires, and feelings; the Take That boys were, too.
The story of Take That’s hard-won rise to global success has already been told through many documentaries and interviews over the years, including the 2005 ITV documentary featured in part two of this addictive and honest journey back in time on Netflix. Take That was formed by the Manchester-based impresario Nigel Martin-Smith in 1990. Following a call-out for young guys looking for a career in pop music that would rival New Kids on the Block, Martin-Smith found a group of plucky Northern lads. But from the start, that group wasn’t wholly equal.
Take That was formed around Gary Barlow, a young singer-songwriter who had already impressed Nigel Martin-Smith with a selection of demo tapes. It’s clear, watching the story unfold, that Mark, Robbie, Howard, and Jason were there to support Gary, offer the sex appeal, dance moves, and the boyish charm that could propel the group, initially called Cutest Rush, then Kick-It, into the charts. The boys were aware of this from the outset as they attempted to forge their place and purpose in the group, and friendships grew as they toured gay clubs, school assemblies, and local Manchester venues, building a following while still holding down day jobs. However, watching the Netflix documentary, it is clear that something was missing right from the start among the boys: the ability to talk openly with each other about their fears, anxieties, and feelings.
Like many young men, the Take That boys held their feelings close as they enjoyed each other’s company and worked hard to achieve success. They trusted Nigel Martin Smith to guide them, even when they were covered in jelly, butt-naked for the notorious video for ‘Do What U Like’. None of them wanted to go back to their day jobs, and all of them wanted to make Take That a success. That pressure was even greater for a young Gary Barlow, who knew it was his songwriting that would ultimately make or break every boy’s hopes and dreams: a considerable pressure to carry on such young shoulders, and one that Gary admits came with a dose of arrogance and insular thinking.
Of course, the hard work paid off, but not with one of Gary’s tunes in the first instance; instead, it was a cover of the Tavares 1975 song ‘It Only Takes a Minute’ that propelled them into the top ten and cemented their initial success: something Gary clearly found hard as he further pushed himself to write an album of material that would cement their place as one of the UKs most successful groups.
It’s clear that as their success grew, despite their friendship and love for one another, tensions simmered beneath the surface. Gary Barlow was reluctant to let his bandmates contribute to the music, which clearly affected Robbie, despite him taking the lead vocal on ‘Everything Changes’ in 1994, following Mark’s first lead vocal with ‘Babe’ in 1993. All of the boys enjoyed the success, and their love for one another was evident. Still, the group’s culture of silence in expressing their inner feelings, doubts, and insecurities further widened the cracks beneath the smiles. The result of this silence on Take That’s first era is well known: Robbie left with a bang, and the group crumbled due to individual aspirations.
However, what is less known is the mental strain this placed on every member of the group, as Take That suddenly slipped into the shadows, and the press homed in on the Robbie/Gary rivalry. Watching clips from this time is uncomfortable and upsetting as the boys explore their personal feelings and emotions in a way we haven’t heard before, from thoughts of suicide to fears of failure and the destructive venom of an ex-bandmate who was happy to throw his friends under a bus as his own celebrity grew. The ten years following Take That’s separation were toxic for all involved, with the Netflix documentary finally providing space to express the toll these years took.
Listening to the boys recount the turbulence of these years, one would think their story ended when they became fathers themselves and the doors to a music industry that had once embraced them closed. But as we all know, that wasn’t the end of the Take That story, and it was the ITV documentary in 2005 that would bring them back together and create an opportunity none had thought possible in the barren years, a tour, together, again. The second era of Take That had arrived, and one could argue it was bigger, bolder, and even more successful than the first.
Directed by David Soutar (Bros: After the Screaming Stops), Take That is told through beautifully restored and previously unseen archive footage and off-screen interviews. While it may not offer us a definitive story, as both Robbie Williams and Jason Orange are absent from any fresh discussion, it does offer the honesty and reflection that only come with middle age. Take That isn’t about opening old wounds; it’s about healing, reflection, and learning. This is a documentary that celebrates the role Take That have played in the lives of so many, their enduring legacy in British music, and the love that initially bonded them together as brothers. It is about the toll fame takes on young people who haven’t yet mastered their emotions, and how cultures of silence among young men often lead to explosive division.
Take That will forever have a place in my heart, the joy, sexuality, and freedom of their performances forever linked to my own coming out journey. But, like me, they were just boys attempting to navigate inner feelings, doubts, fears, and hopes, often in isolation and silence. Those boys grew, like me, and with them, past conflicts were consigned to history, failures and regrets were assessed with older eyes, and a need for honest reflection became paramount. Take That on Netflix is that honest reflection, as they celebrate their friendship, dissect their regrets, and appraise the ups and downs of a journey none of us who loved them will ever forget.
Take That is now streaming on Netflix
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