By Robert Scucci
| Published 10 seconds ago

Before John Frusciante joined the Red Hot Chili Peppers and solidified the “classic lineup,” quit the band in 1992, was replaced by Dave Navarro for One Hot Minute, rejoined in 1998, quit again in 2009, was replaced by Josh Klinghoffer, and returned yet again in 2019, the band’s sound had already been molded by another guitar genius: Hillel Slovak. Netflix’s latest rockumentary, The Rise of the Red Hot Chili Peppers: Our Brother, Hillel, looks back at those early days when Anthony Kiedis and Michael “Flea” Balzary were just kids from broken homes, and how their best friend and spiritual brother Hillel offered them a lifeline through art, music, and, most tragically, drugs.

The Rise of the Red Hot Chili Peppers tells a heartbreaking story about the band’s early, turbulent years as kids running amok through Los Angeles in the 1980s, shaped by their environment and an unbreakable friendship. Through beautifully composed segments featuring archival photos brought to life with striking animation, the documentary feels kaleidoscopic at times, like a drug-induced fever dream, and brutally sobering at others. We hear from band members past and present as they reflect on their soul brother Hillel Slovak and how instrumental he was in shaping them into the musicians they became.

While a healthy amount of time is spent on the thrill of starting a punk-funk hybrid band in 1980s Los Angeles, Slovak’s life, impact, and lasting legacy takes center stage, doing the impossible by making an ending fans already know still land like a gut punch that makes you want to call up an old friend and check in.

From Triumph To Tragedy

While I’m fighting every urge to wax poetic about the band whose frontman once sang “Say what? You got a pumpkin in yo pants,” I can’t understate the emotional weight of The Rise of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. It’s a look at the band’s early days, when both Flea and Kiedis felt completely lost as teenagers. They abused drugs, got into all sorts of trouble, and, thanks to unstable home lives, were mostly unsupervised and searching for something to hold onto.

They went from lost to found when they met Hillel Slovak in high school, not yet realizing how chaotic their lives would become as they bonded over art, music, and their freewheeling youth, something that they thought would last forever.

Flea spends a healthy amount of time talking about how he might never have picked up a bass if Hillel hadn’t needed someone to play for one of his earlier projects, Anthym. Around this time, the Red Hot Chili Peppers were conceptualized, though scheduling conflicts created tension between Flea, Kiedis, then-drummer Jack Irons, and Slovak, who was committed to his other band, What Is This?

Their debut album featured Jack Sherman on guitar, but things didn’t click. By the time they were preparing to record their 1985 sophomore effort, Freaky Styley, Slovak had returned to the fold, and everything started to take shape on an almost cosmic level. That momentum carried into 1986’s The Uplift Mofo Party Plan, but by then, things were already starting to spiral.

Drugs had taken hold of both Kiedis and Slovak. Flea managed to stay relatively grounded, but the band dynamic was constantly on the verge of collapse just as they were finding their footing. Kiedis got sober, for the first time of many in the band’s documented history, but Slovak couldn’t escape his heroin addiction, which ultimately claimed his life in 1988.

Known as a constant source of positivity and inspiration, it almost feels like Slovak gave his light to the people who mattered most while his inner darkness slowly closed in.

The documentary closes on a somber but reflective note. John Frusciante speaks about Slovak’s legacy and how it shaped his own early playing with the band. Flea and Kiedis get visibly emotional as they remember their best friend, taken far too soon, even after all these years. A true artist and a deeply sensitive soul, Hillel Slovak was one of those rare musicians who radiated authenticity without ever trying. With his life cut short just as the band was beginning to take off, there’s no telling how differently things might have turned out if he had overcome his demons.

It’s A Great Watch, Even If You’re Not A Fan

Listen, whenever I talk about how much I love the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the first thing people bring up is how Anthony Kiedis openly discusses some pretty troubling behavior in his 2004 memoir, Scar Tissue. And yes, that book has aged terribly, and yes, Kiedis probably has some explaining to do when he arrives at the pearly gates. But that’s not what The Rise of the Red Hot Chili Peppers is about.

This documentary is focused on the life and legacy of Hillel Slovak.

For casual fans, that might seem like an odd choice, especially since most of the band’s classic albums feature Frusciante’s guitar work. But it’s worth remembering that Frusciante was only 18 when he joined the band, and Slovak was already his biggest influence. Slovak ran so Frusciante could sprint.

What makes the documentary especially compelling is how it uses archival material to tell its story. As someone who nerds out over old band photos and music history, I was genuinely surprised by how many images from those early days I’d never seen before. They capture the band at their youngest and most naive and explosive, and then those same images are brought to life through trippy, psychedelic animation that makes them jump off the screen and straight into your living room.

It’s a visually visceral way to show youth running wild, and the early days of a band that would eventually take over the world at a time when they were still figuring out where their next meal was coming from.

It’s heavy, heartfelt, and feels like it could be the first chapter of something larger. Maybe I’m reading too much into the title, but I’d love to see a follow-up documentary that picks up around the Mother’s Milk era, when Frusciante’s first stint with the band propelled them into superstardom. Until that happens, this is more than enough to keep me at bay.

In the meantime, I’ll be spending the weekend slapping the bass and revisiting those early records, because if nothing else, this documentary is a reminder of where it all started for a band that shaped my own early musical identity in more ways than I could ever reasonably articulate.

The Rise of the Red Hot Chili Peppers: Our Brother, Hillel SCORE

The Rise of the Red Hot Chili Peppers: Our Brother, Hillel is a Netflix Original and is available to stream with an active subscription.