There are many wonderful things about the new Led Zeppelin documentary, and many revelations, although perhaps the most revealing takeaway happens at the very start.
Bernard MacMahon’s film begins at the end of the Second World War, when a new air of British optimism is tempered somewhat by the extraordinary disparity between the prefab and bomb-damaged landscape of London and the gleaming Populuxe dreamworld of the US, an aesthetic fuelled by tailfinned cars, rock and roll and the promise of a bright, new supercharged tomorrow.
