Thursday, 2 November 2023

Stop Making Sense: Movie Review

Stop Making Sense: Movie Review

Director: Jonathan Demme

Nearly 40 years after its original release in 1984, Jonathan Demme's concert movie is often spoken about by many in breathless tones.

Shot at the Hollywood Pantages Theatre in 1983, the film follows the band as they play a range of hits culminating in the iconic performance of lead singer David Byrne dressed in an oversize grey suit.

Newly restored and newly remastered, the sensory overload builds in IMAX after it begins with Byrne solo on stage, gradually joined by members of the band for a series of performances. From the simplicity of opener Psycho Killer, Byrne (who resembles a young Cillian Murphy it has to be said here) to the blazing glory of Burning Down the House captivates from the beginning.

Stop Making Sense: Movie Review

But Demme also focuses heavily on the rest of the band, as if implying the group is more than the sum of its parts. Certainly, while Byrne tries to distract with jerking spasms, and contrived over-movements, the temptation is there to focus on him and him alone - but what emerges is the team nature of this Talking Heads performance with bassist Tina Weymouth, drummer Chris Frantz and others all shining as it goes on.

There are a couple of moments when it feels like Byrne is out of focus, a fuzziness enveloping him during the act of live performance; moments that restoration can't really clean up - and perhaps shouldn't as it catches the verite of the live act.

This Must Be The Place segues beautifully into Once In a Lifetime, and Take Me To The River also stands out. Demme occasionally turns his attention to the audience, but the main focus lies solely with the performers themselves - until their final song sees the cameras swung around as they are caught dancing in the aisles and in their seats.

Perhaps most pertinent in this live performance - especially when the cameras swing round the audiences - is how little technology there is both on and off stage. Stripped of the camera phones that blight many live gigs these days, the film simply lets the music shine and it does so magnificently as the soul and downright funkiness of the whole affair rises triumphantly off the screen and into the audience.

Stop Making Sense will be essential viewing for Talking Heads fans; for those nonplussed or inured to their wiles, this will leave you tapping your toes and perhaps desiring to delve deeper into their back catalogue.

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