Stuck Inside #2: Stop Making Sense
I normally opt for essays rather than reviews when writing about film, but during this indefinite period of isolation, I thought I’d use the abundance of time to write some capsule reviews of films I’m long overdue for watching.
The inherent problem with concert films is that they’re marketed directly to people who are already fans of the band/artist on display. I can’t imagine too many people (parents excluded) going to see a Justin Beiber concert in theaters that aren’t already Beliebers. I only highlight this as a problem because watching Stop Making Sense, I kept thinking “who wouldn’t love this”? I find it terribly hard to imagine that anyone could get up from watching this movie as anything other than a massive fan of the Talking Heads. The only barrier to entry is prior fandom. I was already a fan, but the experience of watching this made me feel like I was being introduced to the band for the first time.
I watched Stop Making Sense while babysitting a 6 year-old boy. I decided to watch it at 7am to avoid having the experience interrupted. It was inevitably interrupted about 2/3 of the way through when he got out of bed walked into the living room and asked “what’s for breakfast?”. I replied “good morning to you too” and before I could follow up with “I’ll make you something when this is over”, he had turned to the screen and become captivated by the performance of “This Must Be The Place”. He didn’t say another word until the credits rolled, but he did quite a bit of dancing. Some pretty strange dancing, but that’s in line with David Byrne’s whole thing, so I didn’t comment on it.
I include that anecdote not just to spice up the review with a personal flourish, but to point to universal appeal of David Byrne’s stage persona. The ability to keep viewers across generations engaged can’t be overlooked. John Mulaney highlights Byrne’s transcendent appeal in his wonderful Netflix special John Mulaney and the Sack Lunch Bunch, where Byrne sings songs with kids who would have no clue who he is. His inclusion works, though, because Byrne’s ethos as a performer is fun and free expression, which kids will always be able to understand. That appeal is what I find most fascinating about this film. It’s not uncommon for kids and adults alike to enjoy something. I, for example, can enjoy a Toy Story movie in many of the same ways as, say a 6 year-old, but those movies are made for and marketed to children, while many of the jokes are aimed at adults to keep them onboard. With the Talking Heads, though, the all-ages/general audiences appeal comes naturally from their joyous energy and unpredictability. At one point, Byrne is just goofing off with a floor lamp and it’s just the coolest, most captivating thing happening in the world at that moment.
There’s a reason this is considered one of the great concert films. It’s not just about capturing the energy of the Talking Heads’s live show, it’s about capturing the character of the band and each of its. Jonathan Demme’s camera always knows where to be, who to hang out with, and how long to stay. When most people think of the Talking Heads, their mind goes to David Byrne in a giant business suit, and while there’s a good dose of that, Stop Making Sense reminds you that the band is made up of a number of characters essential to the makeup of the band, and while no one is as eccentric as Byrne, they come pretty close. In moments when the camera lingers on backup singers Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt getting down with Byrne during musical breakdowns, the fun of being on that stage just radiates off the screen. One of the best scenes in the movie doesn’t feature Byrne at all, as Tom Tom Club (the new wave band led by bassist Tina Weymouth and drummer Chris Frantz) launch into “Genius of Love”. Weymouth takes center stage, strobes flash, and Frantz takes over as MC. Tom Tom Club is a different band, but the vibe doesn’t change a bit.
It’s interesting to think of Stop Making Sense being released in theaters, because I don’t think I could watch this movie and resist the urge to get up and do my best David Byrne impression, which I think most theater patrons and owners would frown upon. This movie is the greatest, and Talking Heads instantly shot into the top-5 of my Bands-I-Wish-I-Could-Have-Seen-Live-In-Their-Prime list.