Posted September 26, 2025Sep 26 πππ₯π₯ππ ππͺπππ« β GB β@LittleMeThatterΒ·2hTake That Netflix Documentary - coming in February 2026!! π€©" Three one hour episodes π"Confirmed by the guys on Radio 2@GaryBarlow@takethatSource πππ₯π₯ππ ππͺπππ« β GB β (@LittleMeThatter) / X Edited January 19Jan 19 by Sydney11
January 20Jan 20 Author EXCLUSIVE: Truth behind Jason Orange Take That exit - and the part Robbie Williams playedA new Netflix documentary focusing on Take That explains how and why Jason Orange left the iconic boyband, and it wasn't when first plannedMark Jefferies Showbiz Editor07:00, 20 Jan 2026A young Jason in archive footage from the Netflix doc(Image: Courtesy of Netflix)#Take That members managed to stop Jason Orange leaving the band thanks to one final trick. The trio who are still in the band - Gary Barlow, Howard Donald and Mark Owen - speak in their new Netflix documentary about the fact they knew Jason was happy with a Take That comeback but not for very long.The band began in the Nineties and had huge success as a boyband with fifth member Robbie Williams then split up in February 1996, a year after Robbie had quit..But they were offered a lifeline in 2005 when Sony made a documentary about the band called Take That: For The Record. There was a premiere for the show launched at the end of the year, and the four members posed outside for the first time in around 10 years together to help create a buzz.Despite the documentary being quite staged and awkward in places, it was a ratings hit on TV and led to the foursome being offered the chance to reform and go back on stage.#βWe didn't really know what reception it would have, whether anybody even cared,β Mark admits. After a night drinking together, and even performing the dance to Pray whilst tipsy to see if they could still do it, they agreed to say yes to the concert promoter and arena dates sold out in one morning.#Gary recalls: βI wanted to walk out on stage again. I wanted to sing again. I wanted that audience again. I was desperate for it all, but wanted it to be right for us all. I wanted it to be, to feel good for everyone. And I suppose that was new, because I didn't really care about anybody else in the 90s, I just wanted to be all right for me.βThe Ultimate Tour was the first time that Take That had performed together since they split in 1996. It ran for a total of 33 shows and the four members - minus Robbie - reportedly banked over a million pounds each after tax, although their windfall is not discussed in the new documentary.After the comeback tour, the band made new music, including the single Patience, which was a huge hit. Jason insisted the band got split royalties for tracks, which was not the case before when Gary got all the songwriting cash. He says previously Gary had refused to contemplate it.Gary says: βWhen we came backβ¦everyone wanted to write, and I realised this takes pressure off me. Now everybody's sharing the burden of being a creative in a band.βThis was followed up by a Beautiful World Tour in 2007 and then Circus in 2009. Circus was a huge hit with fans and the band and featured stunts and animals. But by then Jason was weary of being on the road again and his appetite to continue was waning. The one thing that would actually keep him onside and on stage - was Robbie Williams.Gary said: βI knew this was enough for him. I knew Jason was leaving. I think he'd found it hard coming back. I feel like he'd enjoyed the success, but he didn't want it forever. I felt like to keep Jason, we've got to get Rob.βHoward adds: βOh, Jason promoted it quite heavy. The fact that he wanted to do this thing with Robbie. He worked together, five of us back together, make everything hunky dory.βThe band met Robbie in America and after a few false starts work on some music together and he joins them on the Progress tour of 2011. It was another huge success and it did stop Jason leaving - but only temporarily.At the end of this tour, Jason quit - Robbie went back to being solo - and the band become a three piece, going back out on tour a few years later. Gary says Jason told them βI just donβt want to do this,β and he was walking away.Howard recalls: βAfter that last(Progress) show, Jason sat us all down and said, Listen, I don't want to be the band anymore. And I think I'm done. But it was really sad, because Jason felt like one of my best friends. I felt like we had so much in common. We're from council houses and big families down to earth people. I'd had many laughs with and made me laugh so many times, but it was a scary time, because I almost felt like I was Going back to 96 again. It just was a very uncomfortable feeling. I didn't really know where to turn.βMark adds: βIt was a big, a big moment that for us, because now we've gone from five on stage to three of us. We've lost two members.βThe trio did eventually decide to continue to enjoy touring, albeit without Jason who they had alongside them for so long. Howard said: βWeβre not young whipper snappers anymore, but we're still out there selling tickets, and we're hungry.βTruth behind Jason Orange Take That exit - and the part Robbie Williams played - The Mirror Edited January 20Jan 20 by Sydney11
January 21Jan 21 I'm glad they have addressed that in the documentary because I remember RW getting so much stick on the forums that he was the cause of JO leaving after Progress. That his ego had driven him away etc etc.I knew that wasn't true because Rob always spoke so warmly of Jason on the Progress Tour. He really looked up to him like a big brother.
January 21Jan 21 I do remember hearing stories that Jason was not happy that Robbie was back and it was why he left which really dies show how stories get twisted when we now know for sure that it was the opposite.
January 21Jan 21 Author Correct me if I'm wrong. In the movie Better Man it was Jason that told Robbie that the band were going ahead as a four piece. I wonder how they came to make Jason their spokesperson . Does anyone think it affected him later, Jason comes across as such a quiet lad.. I would have thought it was NMS's job to tell Robbie & not a band member. Maybe the way it was portrayed in the movie was not accurate so hopefully it will be made clear in the documentary . It's not a big deal for me, just curious tbh. π€·ββοΈ Edited January 21Jan 21 by Sydney11
January 21Jan 21 No -that was accurate Tess -I've read numerous accounts Including I'm sure from Rob himself, that it was Jason that voiced what the other three were thinking. Maybe he just had the balls to do it. Sometimes the quietest people have the strongest back bone don't they.I remember so much about the Progress Tour because I was so thrilled for them all to have sorted out their differences, I LOVED the album and I was really invested in it. I remember Rob was blogging almost every night on that tour and I remember his saying that at the time he and Jason were the only childless members of the band so they used to stay up late and just talk and talk. He felt really close to him on Tour, so when Jason left, I knew it wasn't because of RW, despite what the GB Army would have had you believe.Like I said I'm really glad they addressed it and I'm looking forward to watching the documentary. π₯°I still get the same thrill when I see that RW and GB have written together (on Morrissey) as I did when I heard Shame or saw them together for the first time at Progress Live or TTC at the O2. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling π that people can move on from the most difficult of circumstances, apologise, move on and become and stay friends. π
January 21Jan 21 It was really a moment when Robbie rejoined and also them all making up and now still remain friends is great as i think them resolving everything was good for them mentally aswell as they all played a big part in each others lives.
January 25Jan 25 Author Take That reveal how they suffered with suicidal thoughts, financial woes and vicious infighting in 'deeply personal' new docuseriesBy REBECCA LAWRENCE, DEPUTY SHOWBUSINESS EDITOR (DIGITAL FEATURES)Published: 10:12, 25 January 2026 | Updated: 10:55, 25 January 2026Take That have given fans a glimpse into the band's struggles in aΒ 'deeply personal' new docuseries.Β The Netflix show, entitled Take That, charted the stratospheric highs that turned to crippling lows as the band imploded following Robbie Williams' sudden departure in 1995.Β Gary Barlow, Howard Donald and Mark Owen came together to narrate the series, which features unseen footage of the group and archived interviews with Jason Orange and Robbie.Β Now thoroughly documented, Robbie was battling drink and drug addiction during his time in the band, with Gary confessing: 'I never considered that the most insecure and emotional person in the band was Robbie and I feel quite guilty now for not recognising that.'Β Mark revealed that things came to a head when Robbie returned from a booze-fuelled jaunt at Glastonbury, explaining: 'Rob came back absolutely wasted.Β 'I think the lack of interest was obvious and I think that Gaz and J got pretty p****d off about that.'Take That have revealed how they suffered with suicidal thoughts, financial woes and vicious infighting in a 'deeply personal' new docuseries (Mark Owen pictured)Β The Netflixshow, entitled Take That, charted the stratospheric highs that turned to crippling lows as the band imploded following Robbie Williams' (pictured) sudden departure in 1995He explained the band confronted Robbie about his behaviour, which resulted in him declaring that he was going to quit.Β Β Gary recalled: 'Jason said, "well if you're gonna go just go now then". IΒ thought, he'll be back tomorrow, I've seen this kind of thing before.'We woke up the next morning and it was some newspaper thing of Robbie's split from the band.Β 'It was kind of a little bit devastating, you ask yourself loads of questions - what's gonna happen now?'I think if we all knew it was gonna be that moment, we'd have done it - we'd have all wanted it to be different - after all that time together. It was sort of off the cuff and casual.Β 'These things, they never happen the way you read them, it's trickier, it's more complex.'Β Mark added: 'It was a really odd couple of days, really odd.Β 'And it sounds quite throwaway for what happened to be one of the most important things that ever happened to our group, him leaving.Β 'I wasn't in a place where I'd sit down with Gaz and Howard and say "what shall we do about this?" I think the first time we were asked how we feel was by someone on a TV show.'(L-R)Β Robbie Williams, Jason Orange, Howard Donald, Gary Barlow and Mark Owen in 1992While the band had vowed to continue as a four-piece, Gary admitted that they soon grew jealous of the freedom Robbie had as a solo act, while they were being closely monitored by managerΒ Nigel Martin-Smith.Β 'It was inevitable that we wanted to get out of that world,' Gary mused, revealing he then spoke to the group about going their separate ways.Β Not everyone was pleased, however, with Howard confessing: 'IΒ was holding on so tight to this group I felt a bit of anger.Β 'We were a four-piece and were still successful. We'd sold out a tour, we had number ones, it's like - well why?'It hit me the hardest simply because I was thinking, "well what am i going to do now?" I'm only trained at being a pop star...'Everybody watched what was happening and prepared themselves, whereas I was in this dream of it's gonna keep going and going.'When I was in school, I was a nobody really. I wasn't very clever, didn't go to university, I never dreamt of being successful, never thought I'd be anything and I felt like a superhero being up on that stage.'Β Reflecting on how his mental health suffered after the band split, he continued: 'It was almost going through a depressive state.'I decided to go to the Thames and, the state of my mind at that time, I was seriously thinking of jumping in the Thames, thinking I wanted to kill myself. But I'm just too much of a s**t bag to do it.'Β Howard also struggled following the birth of his daughter Grace, with fatherhood making him worry about his finances.Β 'All of a sudden my money's dwindling, I've gotta look after it, I've got to go to a smaller house,' he recalled.Β 'Reality again kicks you in the head. This is your life, you're not a pop star anymore.'Gary Barlow (pictured) Howard Donald and Mark Owen came together to narrate the series, which features unseen footage and archived interviews with Jason Orange and RobbieMark was also struggling, having been dropped by his label after his solo career failed to take off.'You start to feel very negative about yourself,' he said.Β Meanwhile Gary suffered a blow when he struggled to emulate the success he had in the band as a solo act.Β Β Explaining his initial state, he shared: 'I was on a massive wave of confidence, my ego was the biggest it had ever been, you think the world owes you everything.'When you've been at that height you think everything you touch turns to triple platinum.'Β Yet that didn't prove to be the case and when Gary's success was eclipsed by Robbie's the pair started a public slanging match.Β Β 'Robbie was feeding off the press a bit. That's when it got nasty and it was just not needed.Β 'That'sΒ when it became really competitive. We were both trying to do the same thing and only one person can win.'Β While the band had vowed to continue as a four-piece, Gary admitted that they soon grew jealous of the freedom Robbie had as a solo act (Howard pictured)Β Robbie's jibes didn't just upset Gary, but Howard, who confessed: 'IΒ didn't like what Robbie had become.Β 'It was quite hurtful because Gary's me mate so obviously I was gonna stick up for Gary. I just felt a lot of hatred towards Robbie.Β 'Maybe jealousy of his success, and the fact he was just taking the p**s and getting more and more successful made it even worse.Β You want to see them fall down.'Β Gary became the subject of widespread mockery, and he 'saw it all', with the issue being compounded by Robbie publicly making jibes at him.Β 'ItΒ was just so excruciating,' he confessed. 'You just wanted to crawl into a hole.'There was a period of about 13 months when I didn't leave the house once. And I also started to put weight on. And the more weight I put on the less people would recognise me.Β 'I thought "this is good, this is what I've been waiting for, living a normal life." So I went on a mission. If the food passed me, I'd just eat it... and I killed the pop star.'Gary's weight ballooned to 17 stone and he developed bulimia, an eating disorder he suffered from until he sought help in 2003.Β In 2005 the band came back together to film an ITV documentary but Robbie was not present, filming his sections remotely.'We all had different feelings about Rob at that point,' Gary recalled. 'Mark missed him, Jason missed him, I hated him.'Β Nowadays it's just Mark, Gary and Howard left in the group after Jason quit the band and Robbie went back to his solo career (pictured in September)Β However, they realised it was time to put the past behind them when reports began to emerge about Robbie's battle with drink and drugs.Afraid of their former friend going off the rails they jetted to Los Angeles to be by his side, with Gary taking him aside for a private chat.'I had a lot of stuff I wanted to say to Rob,' Gary recalled. 'He had a lot of stuff he wanted to say to me. We'd just never done it.'Howard added: 'We went to his house and Robbie had a massive conversation with Gary. What he felt about Gary in the Nineties and how it hurt him and blah, blah, blah.'Gary recalled: 'Things around me not being supportive about his songwriting, and about his weight interestingly.'I'd called him Blobby instead of Robbie one day - which I hold my hands up, I shouldn't have done.'In about 20/25 minutes we'd put to bed things that had haunted us for years and it felt like we could move forward after that.'Β The group reunited with Robbie for their 2006 tour, with Gary stating: 'I was in such a bad place, I needed everyone.Β 'That was really the first time I felt I was in Take That. That was when the band started for me.'Β Take That lands on Netflix onΒ Tuesday, January 27.Take That reveal how they suffered with suicidal thoughts, financial woes and vicious infighting in 'deeply personal' new docuseries | Daily Mail Online
January 26Jan 26 Ah of course, another Take That documentary that manipulates the Robbie-Gary narrative to create sympathy for Gary.They did not βjet off to LAβ because they were βworriedβ about him βgoing off the rails with drink and drugsβ. They went o LA to record The Circus album. Garyβs actual response when the story broke about Rob gong to rehab was to snidely wonder aloud to tabloid journalists why he hadnβt hushed it up, setting up a whole narrative in the tabloids that it was a PR stunt designed to βsteal Take Thatβs thunderβ.And of course we also skip over all the things that Gary and his team did to try and scupper Robbieβs solo career before it got started and suggest that he was just upset over a bit of name-calling. No mention at all of providing testimony for court cases that left him in a huge amount of debt. Edited January 26Jan 26 by Kathryn24601
January 27Jan 27 Author So this launches today on Netflix I never knew TT in the early days, had never heard of them until I noticed Mr Robbie Williams at Knebworth so I have no deep feelings about it one way or another . It is a very interesting story & looks like they all played their part good & bad just like many other bands out there .For me Robbie was always meant to be a solo artist doing his own thing. He is a superstar & navigates his own career path on his terms & always does it his way , that's why I love him.
January 27Jan 27 Author Take That's new documentary tells a very familiar story55 minutes agoMark SavageMusic correspondentTake That in 1991 (L-R): Robbie Williams, Mark Owen, Gary Barlow, Jason Orange and Howard DonaldThe last time Take That agreed to a documentary, they had nothing to lose.It was 2005, and they'd been inactive for almost a decade. Gary Barlow and Mark Owen had lost their record contracts, Jason Orange had abandoned his acting ambitions, and Howard Donald was quietly enjoying parenthood.Robbie Williams, still a year away from his disastrously received Rudebox album, was the only member with a significant public profile.When he failed to show up for the film's climactic reunion, the rest of the band reacted with a mixture of hurt and total lack of surprise.But what happened next surprised everyone.More than six million people tuned in to watch the documentary on ITV, making it the night's most-watched programme.Within days, the UK's biggest concert promoter Simon Moran had put an offer on the table: Get back together, and we can sell out 30 arenas.Gary, Mark, Jason and Howard mulled it over all of 12 hours before agreeing.The clincher came at a London pub where they recreated the choreography to Pray, perched upon bar stools, several drinks worse for wear.Twenty years later, they're still going. If anything, the second chapter of Take That's career is even more extraordinary than the first, full of number one singles and multiple Brit Awards. This summer, they'll play to a million fans on a brand new stadium tour.To celebrate, the band have launched another documentary - this time for Netflix.But with more at stake - and without the participation of Williams and Orange (who retired in 2014) it's never as captivating or revealing as the original.It's also more sanitised. Whereas ITV had footage of the band singing "you're only in love with an image" at their teenage fans, and talking about on-tour sex contests, the new film focuses more on professional rivalry and interpersonal relationships.The documentary uses 35 hours of previously unseen archive footage to tell its storyThe documentary uses 35 hours of previously unseen archive footage to tell its storyThe main question is, what is there left to learn?We all know the story: Take That were five plucky northern lads, formed in 1990 around the songwriting talents of bow-tied lounge singer Gary Barlow. Initially called Cutest Rush, then Kick-It, they were marketed at gay audiences, with a notorious video for early single Do What U Like, featuring the quintet butt-naked and writhing around in jelly. But it was teenage girls that made their career, screaming songs like Everything Changes, Relight My Fire and Pray to the top of the charts.But as their fame grew, tensions simmered. Barlow refused to let his bandmates contribute to the music, leaving them feeling "like backing dancers and puppets", says Howard.Fed up, Williams started abusing drink and drugs, almost overdosing the night before the 1995 MTV Europe Awards.When the others issued him with an ultimatum, he walked out. But without his puppyish energy, Take That were on borrowed time. Within a year, the band was over.One of the few revelations in the new documentary is that Williams' departure gave his bandmates a new perspective: You don't have to do everything you're told. π"We were like, 'Oh, hang on a minute, that looks quite refreshing'," recalls Barlow.But it wasn't.As Williams solo career went stratospheric, Barlow's became a punchline."It was just so excruciating [that I] just wanted to crawl into a hole," he recalls. At one point, he refused to leave the house for a year, ballooning to 17 stone.Howard Donald also took it hard, at one point contemplating suicide."I decided to go to the Thames... I was seriously thinking of jumping in," he says.Netflix Tensions arose over Barlow's insistence on writing all of Take That's materialAll of these revelations were covered amply in the 2005 documentary and, although the repetition doesn't diminish the impact, fans will find themselves wondering why they're sitting through the same anecdotes (sometimes literally - as several clips of Orange and Williams are lifted directly from the original programme).Sweetening the pill, there's lots of previously unseen archive footage, giving glimpses of the band in the studio and blowing off steam on tour.But the show really gains momentum when we get to Take That's unlikely resurrection in the early 2000s.We discover that Orange insisted the band ditch their former manager, Nigel Martin-Smith - claiming he'd made members feel "worthless" and "insecure" - and set off by himself to dispatch the news.And Barlow acknowledges that he'd treated his bandmates as lesser partners during their first flush of fame."I didn't really care about anybody else in the 90s," he says. "I was a very different person back then, very thick skinned, incredibly ambitious."When Orange suggests they split all of the band's future royalties (a trick he'd picked up from U2), Take That finally become a group of equals."I felt like I had some kind of worth and it made me feel like an artist again," says Howard of the band's feverishly-received reunion.GetGetty ImagesThe band finally reunited with Williams for the 2011 Progress Tour - which was their final tour before shrinking to a three-pieceThe final hurdle is a rapprochement with Robbie, which finally takes place in 2010. As we learn, not everyone is convinced it's a good idea. "I thought he'd be this complete egotistic arsehole," says Howard.But footage from the sessions for 2010's Progress album (culled from a second ITV documentary, Look Back, Don't Stare) shows how easily they fell back into friendship.As they take the show on tour, there's a quick but beautiful shot of Williams watching from under the stage, flashing a quick thumbs up at his former nemeses as they perform Rule The World."It was lovely for us to have Rob back," says Owen. "I'm so glad it happened. To be able to heal, reflect, rejoice."At the end of that tour, both Williams and Orange sailed off on their own courses and Take That became a trio.The documentary skips over the next 10 years, a tacit admission that everything since Progress has been a footnote.And, as Barlow admitted to a journalist in 2018, the band never need to worry about their future again."If I could be bold, I don't give a [expletive] whether the new album's a hit or not," he told The Telegraph. "Even if it's a flop, we're still going to go on tour next year and play to 600,000 people."The documentary closes on a similar note: Take That are national treasures, their reputation is secure, their hatchets are buried. It's a happy ending, if a strangely frictionless one.But as the credits roll, a brand new song plays and, hey, it's pretty good. I even found myself singing along.And maybe that's the real conclusion: Even in comfortable middle age, you can't discount Britain's biggest boy band.Take That's new documentary tells a very familiar story
January 27Jan 27 Author ReviewTake That review β could it be TV magic? Yes!This fantastically enjoyable romp about the boy band covers the highs, the oiled thighs and the chainmail codpieces. But why does Gary Barlow twiddle his bandmatesβ earlobes so much?Sarah Dempster Tue 27 Jan 2026 06.00 CETβI donβt like cauliflower cheese,β says Howard Donald (57), prodding at a hillock of cheddar-festooned florets as he tackles an otherwise inoffensive backstage repast during Take Thatβs 2024 stadium tour. Gary Barlow OBE (55) is aghast. βYou donβt like cauliflower cheese?β he splutters between mouthfuls of pie. βWhatβs wrong with you?ββCheesy,β mumbles his carefully bearded bandmate. βItβs too cheesy.ββWhaaaaaaat?!β gasps Barlow, his award-winning vowels slowing to a thunderstruck crawl. βWhatβs wrong with cheese?βThe question is of course rhetorical. This is, after all, Gary Barlow. And that is Howard Donald. Alongside elfin retainer Mark Owen (not present during the above transaction but presumably close to hand β possibly frolicking in a nearby woodland glade) they are Take That. They of the Barry Manilow cover versions and crop-topped Lulu βcollabsβ. They of the oiled thighs, be-jumpered ballads and A Million Love Songs (βHere I am, just for you, girl!β). Cheese is the very least of it.βHere I am, just for you, girl!β β¦ Take That. Photograph: Courtesy of NetflixβWhatβs wrong with cheese?β would in fact make a fitting subtitle for Netflixβs excellent three-part documentary about the veteran boyband, a weighty wheel of narrative camembert that takes in the last 35 years of the Take That experience. Itβs all here: the early-90s teen hysteria, the record-breaking string of No 1 hits, the behind-the-candelabra rivalries, the perpetual pendulum swings between pop magnificence (Pray) and po-faced naffery (Babe), the soul-searching, the bum cheeks and, ultimately, the bogglingly successful βcircle of lifeβ manband reunion that has, against considerable odds, proved to be about far more than merely nostalgia.That said, there is not much in the way of revelations. There are fleeting admissions of anxiety (Howard), creaking knees (Mark) and discomfort at the ongoing demands of success (Howard again). But there is little here we donβt already know, and certainly nothing to rival the emotional emetic that was former band member and on/off frenemy Robbie Williamsβ 2023 Netflix series, in which the Rudebox hitmaker grumbled about fame for four hours while sitting on a bed in his pants. (Tellingly, neither Williams nor Jason Orange, who left Take That in 2014, have contributed to this series, the spoilsports.)Instead, we get a straightforward and refreshingly unembittered retelling of the bandβs story, from their bewildered early performances in gay clubs (βI absolutely hated the outfits,β guffaws Barlow over punishing archive closeups of his chainmail codpiece) to their unprecedented second coming, a decade after they imploded in a hail of double denim (βFame, for me, is still a real struggle,β sighs poor old Howard, off-camera, who sounds as if heβs phoning in from the passenger seat of his Ford Mondeo).The manband today β¦ Gary Barlow, Mark Owen and Howard Donald in Take That. Photograph: Courtesy of NetflixItβs hugely enjoyable stuff. Directed by David βBros: After the Screaming Stopsβ Soutar and told through new, off-screen interviews with the three remaining Thats, the series is replete with archive footage, acres and acres of the stuff, brilliantly edited and much of it previously unseen. There are early, excruciating gigs at school assemblies and there are many candid youthful hijinks, the latter revealing a startling reliance on shoulder pads and the young Barlowβs peculiar penchant for twiddling his bandmatesβ earlobes, like a silverback relieving subordinates of fleas. (βI donβt think as a person that Gary could see how he was, or how he behaved,β says Williams in an old interview and yes, we think, as we watch the noted tax innovator pawing at Owenβs dimpled cheeks, quite.)Everything in the first episode is bathed in that faintly depressing low-grade greyishness that is the preserve of stuff shot prior to the late-90s. Itβs as if Britain had been put in the wash with a pair of Jasonβs pleather chaps and emerged the colour of a Crimewatch UK reconstruction. Later episodes take on a brighter hue, but there is still a pleasantly woozy wistfulness to proceedings, with footage even of recent concerts heavy with the memory of Exclamation body spray.Ultimately, Take That (the series, not the band) offers a view of Take That (the band, not the series) that is only possible from a vantage point of middle-age. Weβve grown up with them, theyβve grown up with us and, despite our ups and downs, weβre all now of an age, concludes the documentary, where we can appreciate how difficult and (occasionally) magical the whole process has been. Three cheers for all of us, frankly, and pass the cauliflower cheese.Take That is on Netflix now.Take That review β could it be TV magic? Yes! | Take That | The Guardian
January 27Jan 27 I thought the documentary was great. The only thing I would have liked is more time given to them as a three piece and the fact they managed a number 1 with These Days.I will be updating this post from tomorrow when the chart positions start coming in from Flix Patrol. https://flixpatrol.com/Just glad it is finally out and people around the world get to see this documentary, unlike the previous ones. Edited January 27Jan 27 by nirvanamusic
January 27Jan 27 As suspected, minimal new material and not much that we didnβt already know.Although Mark did confirm what I had already figured out, that Shine is not really about Robbie!
January 27Jan 27 Author Take That on Netflix review: A triumph of fluff over substance β with striking omissionsTelevision: Much like their music, this three-parter is pleasantly antiseptic, bingeable and forgettableGary Barlow, Howard Donald and Mark Owen attend the documentary's premiere in London on Monday. Photograph: Lia Toby/GettyEd PowerTue Jan 27 2026Take That spent most of the 1990s lording it over rival boybands β but they are late to the party with their underwhelming new Netflix documentary, which arrives a year after the devastating Boyzone tell-all, No Matter What.In that latter film, Ronan Keating and his bandmates unpacked the trauma they had accumulated over their many years of success and failure while their former manager Louis Walsh was cast as the comic-book villain of the piece. It was a gripping plunge into the pop industryβs heart of darkness.There is no such catharsis in Take That, David Soutarβs largely sanitised survey of the Manchester pop institutionβs rise, fall and surprise rebirth as popβs very own fuddy-duddy comfort blanket. Could it be magic? Nah.Even as a casual follower of TT, there was nothing here of which I wasnβt already aware β whether that be the rivalry between Gary Barlow and Robbie Williams or Barlowβs subsequent descent into a hermit-like funk as Williams conquered the world.As befits a group that have been living off their glory days for some years now, it sticks to the hits. It also verges on sharp practice by not revealing until the end credits that, while the interviews with the three current members of Take That, Gary Barlow, Mark Owen and Howard Donald, are new, the contributions from Robbie Williams and Jason Orange are from the archives β and that they are otherwise not involved.Itβs a shame that the programme plays it safe as there is obviously a lot more to the story beyond smashes and crashes. Barlow admits he was a control freak who, in the 1990s, saw Take That simply as a vehicle for his songwriting ambitions. It took the group splitting up and then reforming for him to understand he needed his bandmates as much as they needed him.But Netflixβs Take That never goes beyond the standard rockumentary anecdotes about disappointment and redemption.There is nothing, for instance, about the 2014 tax avoidance controversy that saw Barlow, Donald and Owen make a Β£20 million (β¬23 million) repayment to British authorities.Or the implosion in Owenβs personal life after he admitted to being serially unfaithful to his long-term partner (including a five-year affair with a woman heβd met at random on the concourse of Preston railway station).This is a striking omission, as the scandal broke in the run up to the release of their 2010 album Progress β a mending of the fences with Williams which provides one of the emotional touchstones of the new documentary. That Owen went into rehab bang in the middle of that process surely merits at least a passing mention?Despite being airbrushed to death, this is still a fascinating story. As a struggling songwriter in suburban Cheshire in northwest England, Barlow had been desperate to break into show business. Which is why he went along with the suggestion of his manager, Nigel Martin-Smith, that they build a band around his music β and try to break into the gay clubs of Greater Manchester.They did all that and more β yet all of Take That seemed to lack confidence to one degree or another. Barlow refused to share songwriting responsibilities, Williams was an ego built on sand, Orange was encouraged not to sing and reminded that he had been recruited as a dancer.The three-part series concludes with the now-three-piece Take That talking with optimism about the future and the film doubles as a handy advertisement for their upcoming summer tour, including a July date in Dublin. Fans of the band will love reeling in the boyband years β but compared to the cathartic classic that was Boyzoneβs No Matter What, itβs a triumph of fluff over substance.Take That on Netflix review: A triumph of fluff over substance β with striking omissions β The Irish Times Edited January 27Jan 27 by Sydney11
January 28Jan 28 Author I really like that Jason Orange , quiet , focused & a man of principle β€οΈ. Take That's new documentary tells a very familiar storyMark Savage Music correspondentGetty Images Take That in 1991 (L-R): Robbie Williams, Mark Owen, Gary Barlow, Jason Orange and Howard DonaldThe last time Take That agreed to a documentary, they had nothing to lose.It was 2005, and they'd been inactive for almost a decade. Gary Barlow and Mark Owen had lost their record contracts, Jason Orange had abandoned his acting ambitions, and Howard Donald was quietly enjoying parenthood.Robbie Williams, still a year away from his disastrously received Rudebox album, was the only member with a significant public profile.When he failed to show up for the film's climactic reunion, the rest of the band reacted with a mixture of hurt and total lack of surprise.But what happened next surprised everyone.More than six million people tuned in to watch the documentary on ITV, making it the night's most-watched programme.Within days, the UK's biggest concert promoter Simon Moran had put an offer on the table: get back together, and we can sell out 30 arenas.Gary, Mark, Jason and Howard mulled it over all of 12 hours before agreeing.The clincher came at a London pub where they recreated the choreography to Pray, perched upon bar stools, several drinks worse for wear.Twenty years later, they're still going. If anything, the second chapter of Take That's career is even more extraordinary than the first, full of number one singles and multiple Brit Awards. This summer, they'll play to a million fans on a brand new stadium tour.To celebrate, the band have launched another documentary - this time for Netflix.But with more at stake - and without the participation of Williams and Orange (who retired in 2014) it's never as captivating or revealing as the original.It's also more sanitised. Whereas ITV had footage of the band singing "you're only in love with an image" at their teenage fans, and talking about on-tour sex contests, the new film focuses more on professional rivalry and interpersonal relationships.The main question is, what is there left to learn?We all know the story: Take That were five plucky northern lads, formed in 1990 around the songwriting talents of bow-tied lounge singer Gary Barlow.Initially called Cutest Rush, then Kick-It, they were marketed at gay audiences, with a notorious video for early single Do What U Like, featuring the quintet butt-naked and writhing around in jelly.But it was teenage girls that made their career, screaming songs like Everything Changes, Relight My Fire and Pray to the top of the charts.But as their fame grew, tensions simmered. Barlow refused to let his bandmates contribute to the music, leaving them feeling "like backing dancers and puppets", says Howard.Fed up, Williams started abusing drink and drugs, almost overdosing the night before the 1995 MTV Europe Awards.When the others issued him with an ultimatum, he walked out. But without his puppyish energy, Take That were on borrowed time. Within a year, the band was over.One of the few revelations in the new documentary is that Williams' departure gave his bandmates a new perspective: you don't have to do everything you're told."We were like, 'Oh, hang on a minute, that looks quite refreshing'," recalls Barlow.But it wasn't.As Williams solo career went stratospheric, Barlow's became a punchline."It was just so excruciating [that I] just wanted to crawl into a hole," he recalls. At one point, he refused to leave the house for a year, ballooning to 17 stone.Howard Donald also took it hard, at one point contemplating suicide."I decided to go to the Thames... I was seriously thinking of jumping in," he says.Tensions arose over Barlow's insistence on writing all of Take That's materialAll of these revelations were covered amply in the 2005 documentary and, although the repetition doesn't diminish the impact, fans will find themselves wondering why they're sitting through the same anecdotes (sometimes literally - as several clips of Orange and Williams are lifted directly from the original programme).Sweetening the pill, there's lots of previously unseen archive footage, giving glimpses of the band in the studio and blowing off steam on tour.But the show really gains momentum when we get to Take That's unlikely resurrection in the early 2000s.We discover that Orange insisted the band ditch their former manager, Nigel Martin-Smith - claiming he'd made members feel "worthless" and "insecure" - and set off by himself to dispatch the news.And Barlow acknowledges that he'd treated his bandmates as lesser partners during their first flush of fame."I didn't really care about anybody else in the 90s," he says. "I was a very different person back then, very thick-skinned, incredibly ambitious."When Orange suggests they split all of the band's future royalties (a trick he'd picked up from U2), Take That finally become a group of equals. ( Kudos to Jason π)"I felt like I had some kind of worth and it made me feel like an artist again," says Howard of the band's feverishly-received reunion.The band finally reunited with Williams for the 2011 Progress Tour - which was their final tour before shrinking to a three-pieceThe final hurdle is a rapprochement with Robbie, which finally takes place in 2010. As we learn, not everyone is convinced it's a good idea. "I thought he'd be this complete egotistic arsehole," says Howard.But footage from the sessions for 2010's Progress album (culled from a second ITV documentary, Look Back, Don't Stare) shows how easily they fell back into friendship.As they take the show on tour, there's a quick but beautiful shot of Williams watching from under the stage, flashing a quick thumbs up at his former nemeses as they perform Rule The World."It was lovely for us to have Rob back," says Owen. "I'm so glad it happened. To be able to heal, reflect, rejoice."At the end of that tour, both Williams and Orange sailed off on their own courses and Take That became a trio.The documentary skips over the next 10 years, a tacit admission that everything since Progress has been a footnote.And, as Barlow admitted to a journalist in 2018, the band never need to worry about their future again."If I could be bold, I don't give a [expletive] whether the new album's a hit or not," he told The Telegraph. "Even if it's a flop, we're still going to go on tour next year and play to 600,000 people."The documentary closes on a similar note: Take That are national treasures, their reputation is secure, their hatchets are buried. It's a happy ending, if a strangely frictionless one.But as the credits roll, a brand new song plays and, hey, it's pretty good. I even found myself singing along.And maybe that's the real conclusion: even in comfortable middle age, you can't discount Britain's biggest boy band.Take That's new documentary tells a very familiar story
