Survivors get to tell the history, but Robbie Robertson is pushing it.

The guitarist does not come off as a wholly reliable narrator in his cinematic account of the illustrious career of the Band, “Once Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson and the Band,” the star-studded documentary that opens in theaters Friday, Feb. 28.

Told specifically from Robertson’s point of view, while he sits throne-like in the middle of a room, he even handles explaining the points of view of other people who might have held dissenting or, at least, differing views.

To support his own perspective, Robertson enlists his charming wife.

This beautifully produced, big-budget rockumentary, more than capably directed by Daniel Roher, is the latest effort to cultivate and maintain the legacy of the Band by Robertson, who long ago bought out the other members (predictably, Levon Helm was the lone holdout). The only other living member of the group, keyboardist Garth Hudson, is not interviewed.

Robertson has a gift for romanticizing his own hero’s journey, even if in the end, the film comes off as elaborate self-justification. He has a novelist’s unsparing eye for telling details and poignant moments, like playing “The Weight” for Bob Dylan the first time. “ ‘You wrote that?’ he said,” Robertson tells us. “I could see the pride in his eyes.”

“Inspired” by Robertson’s 2016 memoir “Testimony,” the film certainly has a story to tell. From backing Arkansas rock ‘n’ roll madman Ronnie Hawkins, playing two-bit roadhouses across Canada, to accompanyingDylan at the peak of his career when he began playing electric rock music, these five musicians who became the Band were deeply schooled and primed to become a mythic force in rock. Their 1968 debut album, “Music From Big Pink,” hit like a comet, the handmade, clapboard sound contrasting sharply with the psychedelic electro-blues of the day.

Eric Clapton and Bruce Springsteen testify to the power of “Big Pink” in the film. Dylan was not interviewed, although octogenarian Hawkins shines as an irascible old pirate.

At the heart of the Band’s music was a complex, tightly woven intersection of personalities and talents, a fluid collaborationamong guitarist Robertson, drummerHelm, bassist Rick Danko, and keyboardists Richard Manuel and Hudson, which Robertson claims in this movie was his “vision.” With Helm, Danko and Manuel gone and Hudson silent, Robertson picks up the story for them.

The public debut at San Francisco’s Winterland in 1969 is recalled with some humor, as Robertson, ill at the time with a 103-degree fever, was treated by a hypnotist to make it through the performance. But the whimsy quickly thins out as Robertson and his wife recount the long, slow, tortuous descent — by the other members — into a morass of drug and alcohol problems. Married with children while the others were not, they can’t help but paint themselves as the adults in the room.

“Robbie is a real artist,” Dominique Robertson says. “He is an amazing creative force.”

当然,正是这些创造力were responsible for creating was at the heart of the beef Helm had with Robertson, apparently to Helm’s dying day. Robertson recounts how he held an unconscious Helm’s dying hand in his hospital room and recalled their glorious youth, but he did not say Helm ever forgave him.

With Robertson, a little modesty would go a long way, but that is not his style. Robertson rests firmly in the center of his narrative, and the entire story revolves around him. He even takes responsibility for explaining why Helm was angry with him. The best he can summon in the way of independent support is guitarist Jimmy Vivino, who is cited as “a friend of Levon Helm.” “Families can go to the grave feuding,” Vivino says.

Really?

I don’t know for sure, but I suspect the ghost of Levon Helm pukes all over this movie.

L“Once Were Brothers”:Documentary. Directed by Daniel Roher.Theaters and showtimes.(R. 100 minutes.)