I recently finished watching "Lemmy," the documentary about Motorhead bassist Lemmy Kilminster, who is one of the most widely loved musicians on Earth.
And also one of the loneliest.
The film captures the expected, including adoring interviews from people like Slash, all of Metallica (who trot him out on stage for a song), Dave Grohl and many others. Motorhead influenced a generation of punk and metal bands, moreso for Lemmy's personality than musical brilliance ("Ace of Spades" and "No Sleep 'Til Hammersmith" aside).
The film also captures a very lonely man who seems trapped with drink in hand, either in his cloistered and pedestrian L.A. apartment or a neighborhood bar, where he regularly passes time playing an electronic trivia game while keeping the barkeeps busy.
"Lemmy" is a poignant look at an empty legend, someone whose life is filled with fans and friends, but who desperately longs for a meaningful relationship. His son from a failed relationship makes an appearance, and in conversations with him Lemmy shows signs of happiness before slipping into both regret and bitterness over that split from the love of his life so many years ago.
You get the sense that Lemmy will either die on stage or with bottle in hand surrounded by all things kitschy in his apartment, still hoping for the day when that lost love comes back into his life. After watching the film, it's clear he shouldn't hold out hope.