'Stop Making Sense' Is A Concert Worth Revisiting
I must make a confession, I'm no musical expert. I only know The Talking Heads on a name basis. I couldn't label any of their songs, the lead singer, bass, drums, or guitar, without having to pull it up on Wikipedia. By all accounts, I am an unqualified idiot reviewing this movie. Before entering the film, I had no idea it was a restoration of a 1984 live concert. To make matters worse, I entered the wrong theater for the first twenty minutes of an hour twenty-four-minute film. I could tell something was off when the theater was empty; there were twenty minutes of previews, and Oppenheimer started. I told you I'm a fool.
To experience the large chunk of time I missed, I had to rent the film on Amazon Prime. By no means will you experience the film the same way with a large 4K screen with a home theater. You'll think you may have had the same experience, but you'll be robbed of the vast technical mastery you'll get on a 4K digital IMAX projection. What I saw on my 4K television, streaming the film from a compressed file with the surround sound not split for all the channels, is nothing like sharing the movie with a packed theater.
Seeing The Talking Heads perform at a 1984 concert in a crowded movie theater is special. The audience bopped their head to each big song and danced along to the tunes. They enjoyed it so much that I wouldn't be surprised if someone waved their lighter in the air. The reproduced audio is a treat. Each instrument and lyric is crystal clear. When it comes to the audience, the surround sound shines. Through many of the various woos from the crowd, the sound was sharp to the point where I thought people at my screening were cheering behind me.
The 4K restoration makes the version you can stream from home look like the relic it is. The show still has its grains from the film cameras that were available at the time, but that doesn't stop it from looking modern. Although forty years have passed, Stop Making Sense has a technical mastery in its camerawork that would make Martin Scorsese blush. Stop Making Sense shares its talents with Take This Waltz, as being considered one of the greatest concert films of all time. As an admitted pop music moron, I can only nod my head in agreement.
Director Jonathon Demme clearly knew what he was doing. The timing of the camera cuts, the angles on the performers, and the lighting is masterfully done. Like any professional who films live events, the trick to pulling off Stop Making Sense is making everything appear seamless. Filmed from over four shows in the Pantages Theater in Los Angeles, Jonathon Demme combines the footage from all shows into one concise piece that plays as a single thrilling concert jammed with songs I'm still humming the beats too.
The crew on this documentary doesn't skip a beat. If they did, the editing team did a fine job hiding any mistakes. Like most concert flicks, the film was shot through multiple performances to provide enough coverage for the editors. The movie opens with a close shot of David Byrne's feet entering the stage. This shot is accomplished by having an on-stage cameraman.
Usually, at most concerts or live events, there's a bare minimum of six cameras. Two facing directly towards the performers. One of the cameras stays wide and stationary while the other zooms in close to capture movement. Then, two cameras are set on stage, front left and front right, to add depth to the movement, not filming everything at a flat angle. One camera is on a crane to capture sweeping overhead shots, and finally, there's a camera on the audience.
Stop Making Sense isn't shot or performed like most concerts. It's personal. The camera gets right on the stage where you'd usually never be, so you don't disrupt the band from doing their job. But Jonathon Demme wasn't making just another concert film. He creates something more personal by putting everything on display. The on-stage camera provides an intimacy between the audience and the performer. We're not watching talent from a distance while zoomed in. Instead, we're right on the stage with them, watching in awe as the sweatdrops coming down these folks' faces don't lie about how much effort is being put in.
As the film gets into the opening act, the stage is bare. There's nothing behind Bryne but what's already originally from the venue. As the performance moves into its following acts, the gaffers, who are usually meant to be invisible during production, are brought front and center, making what's usually ignored as part of the show. This is an admirable choice for David Byrne and Jonathon Demme, who make some of the most important people involved in the show part of it rather than pretending like they don't exist to the audience. We see the gaffers prepare the setting for the band, rolling in the platforms for the instrumentals in the back.
As each performer enters the stage, the movie introduces the band members as main characters. There are no long introductions or anything like that; they simply enter the stage and are introduced by name at the show's conclusion. Everyone contributes a great deal to the program. The Talking Heads doesn't feel like a band where one man is hogging all the credit. Jerry Harrison, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, and Adrian Belew are all brilliant in their contributions, working seamlessly as one. Most impressive of all, of course, is their lead singer.
David Byrne has a versatile baritone voice who sings with a rocker's enthusiasm. Byrne's body convulses like Elvis, bringing a staggering amount of energy to the stage. The Talking Heads perform at the top of their game. Each song has a theme. What the themes are you'd be better off asking a Talking Heads expert about. All I can express is how I felt; that feeling was joy. The show impressively shifts visually between songs. In the opening, there's not much to see on stage, yet that's intentional.
The magic of the show is seeing the set get built. With each song, the background changes to something different. In one song, the stage displays a library. In another, there's a large silhouetted shadow on each performer. One song had the on-stage cameraman be a direct light source as he operated an extremely powerful light on top of the camera, pointing it to the band, illuminating each person he passed.
Stop Making Sense is an endlessly energetic time at the cinema that should be experienced in its 4K IMAX restoration. For the visual and auditory presentation alone, it's worth the price of admission to revisit a classic.
Stop Making Sense is released theatrically on September 22 in IMAX and on standard screens on September 29.
