Ryan Watches A Motion Picture #80: Until The Light Takes Us (2008)

I'd heard about a handful of documentaries that have popped up over the past two or three years tackling Norwegian black metal and its turbulent history as their subject. When one actually appeared in front of me after I drew a pentagram in ketchup on the floor and lit some scented candles, I decided to give it a watch. Being big on Norwegian black metal myself, I was wary of being sold a cheap hunk of fan-service meant to do little more than nod in my direction for an hour and 20.

Opening up the DVD package I found a pretentious little booklet with a glowing review, an essay by the directors telling you what theoretical approach to use while watching, and a Fredric Jameson quote. Huh. Unexpected. But I should have expected this - with black metal having become a satanic farce, there's been a real push among aficionados to re-contextualise the subgenre and understand it as a clear instance of youth culture. And, moreover, as punk did before it, be recognised as a viable movement with an ethos of its own.

I'm happy to report that Until The Light Takes Us doesn't hammer that notion down into your skull as fiercely as the booklet does. Instead it follows the daily lives of four or five key figures in black metal history - of special note, Fenriz of Darkthrone and Varg Vikernes of Burzum, the latter of which was, at the time of filming, still in jail for murder and the arson of historic church sites. Other figures from the metal scene of the period pop in and out of the film, but the most engrossing portraits are found in those main two. They are old friends and they haven't spoken to each other in years. They don't come together in the film, as there is a palpable sadness that forces them to leave it all to time. It culminates during a scene where Fenriz is shown footage, shown earlier, of Varg speaking well of him and his music, but Varg, as always, is possessed by a persecution complex, and you can hear the accusation of abandonment in his voice. Fenriz actually holds back tears and laments over the past with little word.

There's a lot of psychoses on display in the film. His obsession with persecution aside, Varg hints at anti-semitism, Hellhammer explicitly approves of the killing of homosexuals, Fenriz tries to figure out where it all went sour, and a younger black metaller takes part in an ultra grim performance art piece proposed by a local painter. All reflect on what the genre is supposed to be about, and their points slowly converge. When all is said and done, we've been given a look at the really interesting and sympathetic people that invented a new mode of metallic expression, and the really interesting and awful ones that are an inseparable part of it too.

For black metal fans, you'll get the bonus of seeing intimate interviews with people you've probably mostly read about, and rare rehearsal footage you might have never seen before.

So: Surprisingly good. Worth a watch for fans and non-fans alike.

Pose Reviews a Movie. #17: When You're Strange

Mostly, I'm just really, really glad that someone OTHER than Oliver Stone made a movie about The Doors.

Alright, alright, I know Oliver Stone's film starring the weirdly perfect, pre-Batmanian Val Kilmer as Jim Morrison was good. I just hate Oliver Stone so DAMN much it pains me to admit it.

But condemnations of Oliver Stone aside (although a healthy Stone-bashing at the beginning of a review never hurt anyone), Tom DiCillio's documentary about the psychedelic, four-piece tour-de-force is really quite good.

First of all, it's absolutely incredible that the filmmakers were able to unearth so much old footage of the band, and restore it to such good condition. Surely, someone had to wade through hours upon hours of backs-of-heads and poorly lit stage shots to get the concert footage used in the film, and although the interview scenes have probably been carefully preserved over the years, it was impressive to see them presented with such sharpness and clarity of both audio and video.

Johnny Depp also lent his voice for a solid narration of the film, having practised up on Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson (which is also a great documentary if you want to check it out). Depp didn't lend a lot of character to the narration--he was clearly reciting a script, verbatim--but it didn't really matter. The script was full of fascinating tidbits about the band, and, overlooking the occasional eye-rolling one-liner, it pretty much sold itself.

The other thing I liked about When You're Strange was that it focused on the band as a whole. The difficulty I have whenever anyone pays any attention to The Doors is that they tend to go straight for Jim Morrison. I suppose it's hard not to, since he's one of the most iconic frontmen of all time, but The Doors is comprised of some pretty fantastic musicians who never get much credit.

Ray Manzarek, the band's keyboardist, is a prime example--the guy is playing those CRAZY organ solos WHILE he's playing the bass line! I always knew The Doors didn't have a bass player, but seeing actual footage of Manzarek's hands in action gave me a whole new appreciation for how talented he is.

Overall, The Doors' status as a legendary cultural entity lends them well to documentary format--after all, any band that sells eighty million albums in a career spanning only 54 months is bound to have some interesting stories. But DiCillio does a good job of constructing a well-structured, good-looking and entertaining documentary stuffed with fun-facts to appeal to everyone from die-hard Doors fans to people who think Jim Morrison is "that guy from Menudo."

...just be wary of the weirdly interspersed scenes with the Jim Morrison look-alike driving through the desert. They're kind of lame, totally confusing, and don't add anything to the film, but they're good for an occasional eyebrow-furrowing, and I even chuckled at them occasionally. I have no idea what DiCillio was trying to get at with these bits, but luckily whatever it was didn't ruin the movie.