Brian Wilson in Brian Wilson: Long Promised Road (Barb Bialkowski/Screen Media)

There’s plenty of insight to be found in Brent Wilson’s documentary Brian Wilson: Long Promised Road, though you won’t get it from Brian, who is prominently featured.

Brian Wilson, the sonic architect of the Beach Boys and the only person Paul McCartney thought of as his competition, has had a hell of a life, riddled with drugs and mental illness and overwhelming artistic success. He has come out of the other side intact, but extraordinarily guarded and not prone to reflection. It was smart to have Jason Fine, a Rolling Stone reporter who became a friend, shepherd Wilson to various places of meaning in his life, from a recording studio to Wilson’s childhood home to where he was isolated with psychiatrist Eugene Landy. Also, Wilson trusts Fine, which means we get more of him than we would with a sit-down interview with another journalist or the director (no relation). Still, talking to Wilson is like pulling teeth. You may get one-word answers or acknowledgements or “that was tough,” but Wilson is decidedly not letting anyone in.

So, the filmmaker relies on archival footage and interviews with fellow musicians, such as Jakob Dylan, Don Was, Elton John, Linda Perry, and, of all people, Nick Jonas, among others. They provide the context of Wilson’s music, what makes it so spectacular and dynamic and original, and give insight to the artist’s mind.

What’s compelling about this documentary is that it also spotlights his brothers Carl and Dennis, both deceased, while placing Wilson’s talent in context of his family. As Carl states in an archival interview, Wilson took the brunt of the verbal attacks of his ruthless father, who was also the Beach Boys’ manager. Dennis was the rambunctious, golden boy surfer drummer; Brian, the competitive but shy artist; and Carl, the peacekeeper between the two. They were rounded out by Bruce Johnston, Al Jardine, and cousin Mike Love.

However, you will not hear any mention of Love here. Wilson and Love famously feuded, and there is no love lost between the two. Still, it is odd seeing a documentary that involves the Beach Boys with literally no mention of the lead singer of most of their songs and with whom Brian had the most artistic conflicts. It leaves a pretty gaping hole, but one subject the film is not afraid to confront is Wilson’s mental illness, schizoaffective disorder, and how it has affected his life. It becomes a bit of a rallying call for supporting those who may have the illness. The subject is treated with respect and delicacy.

In a wonderful moment, Don Was isolates the vocal and instrumental tracks of “God Only Knows” and absolutely marvels at what he is hearing. At one moment, he states, “I’ve been making records for 40 years, and I have no idea how he does it. Nobody does.” There is also a moment when Fine puts on the song that makes up the title of the film, “Long Promised Road,” sung by Carl, who died 23 years ago. They stop at Wilson’s childhood home, and he doesn’t want to get out of the car. Fine does, and instead of following him, the camera stays on Wilson, who is visibly upset and wipes tears from his eyes.

The major problem with the film, aside from any mention of Love, is that there is a lot of footage in the car. As previously mentioned, Wilson tends not to be forthcoming, and Fine can only do so much to open him up lest he shuts down completely. For example, Wilson offers up the fact that Landy, the controversial psychiatrist who lived with him for a period of time, made him eat spaghetti off the floor. When pressed by Fine on more details, Wilson answers with a curt, “He was tough.” These scenes occasionally break the flow that the director is trying to create.

Altogether, Brian Wilson: Long Promised Road is an entertaining and informative documentary, as long as you can handle long stretches of two people driving around. If you are a big fan of Wilson and the Beach Boys, you probably can.