[With the new White Stripes documentary having its US premiere at SXSW we now re-post our review of the film from its debut in Toronto.]
In 2007, to celebrate their tenth anniversary as a band, Jack and Meg White packed up the van - figuratively speaking, they're van days are long behind them - and opted to celebrate in unusual fashion: By playing concerts in every province in territory of Canada. And more than that, they not only played their announced shows but also a string of same day, impromptu gigs at locations ranging from bowling alleys to boats to on board a city bus. And documentarian Emmett Malloy was there filming it all.
As a general rule there are two basic approaches to making a great music doc. One is to focus tightly on the band, to spend hours upon hours talking and recording and observing hoping to get at the kernel of what makes them tick as artists and people. The other is to just shut up, show up at a concert, film the whole damn thing from as many angles as possible and hope the band kills it on that particular night. Malloy does neither of these things, trying instead to fuse elements of both to mixed results.
In the early going the film is a touch rocky. For some strange reason none of the performances in the first third or so of the film are allowed to run for the full duration of the song, the camera constantly cutting away to some other topic. Frustrating? You bet. And, likewise, the early interview is very standard stuff with Jack, in particular, locked away behind his standard media persona, the primary interview used throughout the film actually playing so far in to the stock band mystique that it is conducted with one of the roadies 'sleeping' on a bed behind Jack and Meg, in plain view, in costume. It's the same basic sort of stunt that Jack pulled with his 'autobiographical' parts in This Might Get Loud and it's an act that, frankly, is wearing more than a little thin.
Where things get interesting, though, is where the tour veers away from the ordinary thereby forcing all involved out of the standard interview routine. Much of the early going is spent in the Arctic territories of Canada - areas where even most Canadians have never gone and will never go - and Malloy does a remarkable job of capturing the feel of these communities. Similarly, the environment almost seems to startle some genuine reactions from the core duo who are faced with experiences that they have never had before and had obviously not considered.
Prime among these experiences - and one of the truly great moments of the film - is a meeting arranged between Jack, Meg and the Inuit elders of Iqaluit - the capitol of the native-run territory of Nunavut. Faced with a culture completely alien to their own, with a room full of people who don't know or care who the band is and is used to greeting foreign diplomats and royalty, there's nothing to do but share songs back and forth and accept the local hospitality - even if that hospitality involves eating raw caribou meat.
Thankfully the film gets stronger as it goes, the performance material becomes more abundant and more complete and the guard seems to come down around the camera a little more. Meg still doesn't talk much but, then, she never does really but Jack, for his part, starts to feel significantly less scripted, less groomed and more like an actual person. And the finale - both a blazing final tour stop and a quieter, post-show, much more intimate moment - is truly powerful stuff.
Will this introduce the band to new fans? No, absolutely not. Will it enter the canon of truly great music docs? No, it won't do that either. But for what it is - a film made by a fan for other fans - it ends up being a solid piece of work, one that the core audience will be proud to add to the collection.
In 2007, to celebrate their tenth anniversary as a band, Jack and Meg White packed up the van - figuratively speaking, they're van days are long behind them - and opted to celebrate in unusual fashion: By playing concerts in every province in territory of Canada. And more than that, they not only played their announced shows but also a string of same day, impromptu gigs at locations ranging from bowling alleys to boats to on board a city bus. And documentarian Emmett Malloy was there filming it all.
As a general rule there are two basic approaches to making a great music doc. One is to focus tightly on the band, to spend hours upon hours talking and recording and observing hoping to get at the kernel of what makes them tick as artists and people. The other is to just shut up, show up at a concert, film the whole damn thing from as many angles as possible and hope the band kills it on that particular night. Malloy does neither of these things, trying instead to fuse elements of both to mixed results.
In the early going the film is a touch rocky. For some strange reason none of the performances in the first third or so of the film are allowed to run for the full duration of the song, the camera constantly cutting away to some other topic. Frustrating? You bet. And, likewise, the early interview is very standard stuff with Jack, in particular, locked away behind his standard media persona, the primary interview used throughout the film actually playing so far in to the stock band mystique that it is conducted with one of the roadies 'sleeping' on a bed behind Jack and Meg, in plain view, in costume. It's the same basic sort of stunt that Jack pulled with his 'autobiographical' parts in This Might Get Loud and it's an act that, frankly, is wearing more than a little thin.
Where things get interesting, though, is where the tour veers away from the ordinary thereby forcing all involved out of the standard interview routine. Much of the early going is spent in the Arctic territories of Canada - areas where even most Canadians have never gone and will never go - and Malloy does a remarkable job of capturing the feel of these communities. Similarly, the environment almost seems to startle some genuine reactions from the core duo who are faced with experiences that they have never had before and had obviously not considered.
Prime among these experiences - and one of the truly great moments of the film - is a meeting arranged between Jack, Meg and the Inuit elders of Iqaluit - the capitol of the native-run territory of Nunavut. Faced with a culture completely alien to their own, with a room full of people who don't know or care who the band is and is used to greeting foreign diplomats and royalty, there's nothing to do but share songs back and forth and accept the local hospitality - even if that hospitality involves eating raw caribou meat.
Thankfully the film gets stronger as it goes, the performance material becomes more abundant and more complete and the guard seems to come down around the camera a little more. Meg still doesn't talk much but, then, she never does really but Jack, for his part, starts to feel significantly less scripted, less groomed and more like an actual person. And the finale - both a blazing final tour stop and a quieter, post-show, much more intimate moment - is truly powerful stuff.
Will this introduce the band to new fans? No, absolutely not. Will it enter the canon of truly great music docs? No, it won't do that either. But for what it is - a film made by a fan for other fans - it ends up being a solid piece of work, one that the core audience will be proud to add to the collection.
Man, are Stripes fans in need. Talk about anticipation. When can we expect to see this? Will this be hitting all major cities? Will it be out on DVD at a certain point? Will there be a new album in 2010...