Out of all the extremely quotable David Byrne lyrics, it’s this refrain that keeps echoing in my head after having my mind blown by the 40th anniversary IMAX re-release of the Talking Heads concert documentary Stop Making Sense, last night at the Tinseltown multiplex.
The film, directed by Jonathan Demme (more famously known for his Oscar winning films Silence of the Lambs and Philadelphia), was financed by the band, and stands the test of time as one of the, if not the, greatest concert films of all time.
Readers may be more familiar with Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour, or perhaps the slew of concert films about Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus, One Direction, or the Jonas Brothers. Regardless, any concert film made after 1984 is seriously indebted to the genius of Stop Making Sense.
From the initial tracking shot and first song played solo by Byrne, accompanied by a cassette player, until the final note of “Crosseyed and Painless” and subsequent crowd shots, Demme’s camera gives us an intimate and unquestionably purposeful look at the band and their exuberance.
Where other filmed concerts try to engage the film audience by showing crowd reactions, or provide some behind-the-scenes secrets to tantalize fans, Stop Making Sense stays physically restricted to the stage, placing the viewer right in the middle of the band’s energy and interplay.
Last night’s moviegoing experience was a treat. It was my first IMAX movie since Tron: Legacy, and a welcome night out with my friend and directing partner, Jeremy Hawkinson. We split popcorn and twizzlers, and joined around 50 other Talking Heads fans in the immersive IMAX theater.
Hawkinson, a relatively new fan of the Talking Heads, though he was a music fan and creator during their heyday, loved his first experience with this legendary film. The highlight for him was “how the concert built from such a sparse presentation (one voice, one guitar) to this multi-instrumental collection of talented musicians by the end.”
As a young man, he had “always been into heavier guitar driven rock, so never really gave the Talking Heads a chance.” Thankfully, Byrne’s collaborations with Brian Eno and Fela Kuti brought him to the world of the Talking Heads
The sound was dialed in, and the resolution absolutely crystal clear on the massive screen. Demme’s play with focal length, depth of field, and organic camera movement at times locks us in on a band-member’s expression, and at other times adds to the frenetic, almost confusing tension building in the music as it seeks a subject and note to land on.
The film not only features incredible performances of the band’s hits “Psycho Killer” and “Burning Down the House,” and many others (specifically “Heaven”, “Once in a Lifetime” and “Girlfriend is Better”) but also highly choreographed, memorable, and creative performance moments. Byrne’s “Big Suit,” lamp dance, and general on stage antics linger in the mind of the viewer.
The biggest takeaway for me, on this rewatch, was the palatable and infectious exuberance and joy of the performers. Everyone on that stage is having a blast, from stage hand to background singer to frontman, and everyone on that stage is trusting in the professionalism of everyone else. We in the audience couldn’t help but smile, tap, mouth or sing along, and even clap at the end of songs during the film.
For readers unfamiliar with the Talking Heads, I will provide a brief introduction. The Heads were a band of art school students who found success in the underground scene of NYC, alongside the punk bands of the CBGB era, but showcasing much more delicate and poppy compositions and erudite, sometimes goofy lyrics.
Led by enigmatic showman, songwriter, and guitarist David Byrne, the core of the band featured Tina Weymouth on bass, drummer Chris Frantz, and multi-instrumentalist Jerry Harrison. In this film, they are joined by background singers Ednah Holt and Lynn Mabry, as well as Steve Scales on percussion, Bernie Worrall on keys, and energetic guitarist Alex Weir.
I was first shown a low-quality Youtube rip of Stop Making Sense, by a college friend, and was completely enthralled. Thankfully, the film is now streaming on HBO. It had been hard for find for some time, but the rights were recently acquired by indie-darling production company A24, which set up for this rerelease.
The Talking Heads have been part of the soundtrack of my life from before I could walk. Their album Little Creatures, was played on cassette while my family danced around the living room, and is now spun on vinyl for my own children. I cannot recommend them, that album, and the film Stop Making Sense, enough.
