Berlinger and Sinofsky spent three years and filmed hundreds of hours of footage in their attempt to piece together a picture about the world's most successful heavy metal band. Rather than just serving as a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the group's "comeback" album St. Anger, the movie instead evolved into a fascinating exploration of how the members of the band -- lead singer James Hetfield, drummer Lars Ulrich, guitarist Kirk Hammett and producer (and fill-in bassist) Bob Rock -- dealt with internal bickering and outside conflicts on their way to producing a hit album.
Rather than just offer a straight review, we elected to get CL's music writers involved in the analysis of the film. Here, then, is the "e-chat" between film reviewer (and on-the-fly moderator) Matt Brunson and music critics John Schacht and Timothy C. Davis.
Brunson: Before catching this film, what were your general feelings about the band?
Davis: I grew up a fan of Metallica -- they provided the necessary clang and thrash that pairs so well with adolescent angst (not to mention three-quarter sleeve T-shirts and high school smoking areas). Their personalities I always considered secondary, but when I thought of them at all, it was as good-time party boys. Say what you want about them, but they basically started thrash metal as we know (love/loathe) it...
Schacht: I might have gone through my angst period slightly before Metallica, yet they managed to earn my respect throughout the first decade of their career even though I wasn't much of a metalhead anymore. I mean, Master of Puppets, besides being fun to say, was a really strong record by any yardstick. But with most of their 90s records, they became a parody of themselves and the genre, and when Ulrich took the lead role in the RIAA's attack on Napster and 12-year-olds, most of my respect went out the window.
Brunson: And your opinions of the movie?
Davis: I had heard that film wags liked it, so I was expecting it to be halfway decent. I was sort of shocked at how good it was, however. I think, if anything, the film showed these guys as what they are -- pretty normal Joes, when you get down to it. They formed the band as kids in Frisco with the express purpose of simply rocking out, and now they're all multi- (multi-, multi-) millionaires because of it. I don't think they ever expected all this, which, of course, has led to some tense situations. These guys are almost like second family to each other -- especially Ulrich and Hetfield -- and sometimes families have disagreements, slam doors, and yell "fuck!" as loud as they can. Not my family, mind you, but a lot of families.
Schacht: I too was surprised by how well done it was, and also how it actually managed a good amount of poignancy. I'd say it could have lost 20-to-30 minutes of the 2:20 run time without anyone really noticing, but I was entertained throughout. I think one thing that stood out, aside from what Tim was saying about how these guys are still recognizable as fellow human beings, is just how stinkin' rich these particular fellow human beings are. One of my favorite scenes was when their old bassist, Jason Newsted, waves off Metallica's problems by reminding them how many "squillions" of dollars they have. I mean, that's how wealthy these guys are: They had to create a new made-up word -- "squillions" -- cuz "gazillion" and "bazillion" weren't enough.
Brunson: I was also impressed by the film; it's a compelling documentary that allows us exposure to musicians in a more personal manner than usual. It's one thing to hear secondhand that, say, Blondie had internal riffs on a VH-1 special and quite another to actually see Lars Ulrich put his face just inches away from James Hetfield's and scream "Fuck!" at the top of his lungs. The immediacy of the piece was often startling, and despite the presence of the cameras, these guys never seemed to be "performing" -- it was raw and real.
All of the people who wander through the film seem interesting, but which character did you each find most memorable?
Davis: I'd have to vote for two people: Phil Towle, the $40,000-a-month psychologist, and Kirk Hammett, the band's guitar player. Towle was more of a facilitator, leading these guys out of the abyss (and thus making himself irrelevant), whereas Hammett was more the voice of reason: "Hey guys, we've been together 20 years, we're squillionaires, and life is good. Let's just get together and be cool to each other and put all that energy into our music!"
Schacht: Lars Ulrich's father. Hello, Rasputin. Lars: "What would you do with this song, Dad?" Rasputin/Dad: "Delete it." He even looked the part. He should be their next documentary subject.
Brunson: That therapist, Phil Towle, killed me. I'm no expert in the field, but for $40,000 a month, I think I could wing telling self-absorbed musicians to "get into the zone." Perhaps the funniest scene is when the band tries to tell him they no longer need him, and, sensing his meal ticket slipping away, he starts to yammer about how he has many more ideas on how to help them. But overall, I found Hammett to be the most memorable character. It was interesting how, as Tim mentioned, the band resembled an actual family. Here you have Hetfield and Ulrich as the constantly bickering parents, you have Bob Rock as the rational uncle who tries to patch up the relationship (occasionally getting caught in the crossfire himself), and then you have Hammett serving as the calm child who sees everything going on with clarity and a measure of innocence. Hammett usually made a lot of sense, and when he remarks that he's "egoless," it's one of the few times I've heard a sentiment of that nature come out of a celebrity's mouth and actually believed it.
So what negative criticism would each of you have about the movie?
Davis: I thought the film might have been a little slow on the uptake. The real psychodrama takes place after the first 30 minutes, after all the backstory has been explained. I thought they probably could have cut that part in half, and still explain everything that needed to be explained. That's only a trifling complaint, though.
Schacht: I thought that the early part of the band's career got short shrift in the movie -- if you didn't know Hetfield and his background you'd probably wonder why he needs years of rehab when everyone else is OK with six weeks or whatever. The extent of the band's touring lifestyle was glossed over so quickly -- pretty much just a brief montage of private planes and bare-breasted groupies and rivers of alcohol -- that you don't get a real sense of how many temptations life must hold for a recovering addict. Maybe I just wanted to see more groupies.
Brunson: I know that you guys have always had a real problem with the band's anti-Napster stance, so it's funny that I'm the one bringing it up. But considering the group became as known for that mess as for their music, I felt that the picture seriously shortchanged this issue. The filmmakers never really challenged Lars Ulrich on this subject, never making him directly answer why someone who's filthy rich beyond belief (beyond raking it in musically, he ends up selling his personal art collection for, what, $5 million?) would mount such a feverish battle against the fans, the people who made him a millionaire in the first place. Was his stance a noble one, bravely waging the war for smaller bands that might really be hurt by Napster, or is he really that greedy and controlling a bastard? The movie lets him off the hook on this issue.
Davis: I think Lars knows the whole thing was a bad idea at this point. As he says in the movie, he became the most hated man in rock. And while it was a little surprising they didn't push him on that front, the Napster thing and all the "squillions" don't really seem to me to be what the band -- and the movie -- are about. Rock saved these potential burnouts and gave them a haven from their troubled home lives, drug addictions, and the like. But the movie is also about chemistry, about how "families" interact, and about how placing someone new in the mix can lead to explosive results, either good or bad. Which leads me to my two favorite scenes: new bassist Robert Trujillo dancing for joy in his room after the band invites him on board and presents him with a million-dollar "good faith" check -- "I'm a bass-playing, rock & roll millionaire! Don't they know I'd do it for free?" -- and Lars being interviewed on a hillside in California. His shirt reads "It's Only Rock And Roll." You can't see the bottom, but I bet it says "But I Like It." And it's true -- it is only rock & roll. And I think the movie climaxes when they learn that fact.
Schacht: Yes, the scene with Trujillo is classic. His enthusiasm was clearly a kick in the ass to the other three, who probably couldn't help taking everything for granted by that point. I think what the film did best is take us right along with them up to the very edge of a band imploding... and then chronicling the slow turnaround back into a relatively "healthy" band. The transformation is pretty amazing -- one moment you've basically conceded Metallica is history, and then right before your eyes they're this close-knit family again. There's one scene where it seems to all hinge and swing the momentum back the other way (in the movie, at least): Hetfield, Ulrich and Hammett are under contract to do this incredibly lame radio spot, and within one or two takes it's clear it ain't happening. Before you know it, they're laughing their asses off, and I think it's the first time throughout the film's first 90 minutes that somebody really seems to be having fun. It's as though the lame-o label types and radio whores gave them a common enemy that lets them not just refocus their angst but channel it out toward the crap that metal has always aimed at -- the hypocrisy of the world. I'm not a big metal fan, but I believe in the redemptive power of rock & roll, and that's what Some Kind of Monster is all about, when you get down to it.
