This man's name is "Dead." He is, ironically, dead.
I was not a Norwegian black metal aficionado going into 2008's Until the Light Takes Us--still not one--but I did learn something very telling from an interview with Burzum's Varg "Count Grishnakh" Vikernes, currently in prison for stabbing his bandmate and friend, Euronymous, in the brain with a pocket knife. Apparently, during the recording of Burzum's self-titled first album, Vikernes asked for the shittiest microphone, the worst amplifier, and the most god-awful drum set the studio could offer. The drums were not miked, the amplifier was the size of a Corn Flakes box, and Vikernes sang into a pair of headphones. This was all done, in Vikernes own words, for maximum shittiness. So, yeah, that's black metal, I guess.
Whether or not this is the typical route black metal artists take when recording an album--and from what I gather from the film, it probably is--Until the Light Takes Us is a fascinating doc about a misunderstood subculture. In the early 90's, black metal was unfairly labeled as Satanic by the Norwegian press when a few of its more outspoken progenitors made the perfectly legitimate point that Christianity has been a major force in cultural destruction all over the world, including Norway. This led, unfortunately, to an outbreak of church burnings. Whether or not black metal artists were directly involved is never revealed in the film, but a young, stupid Count Grishnakh took at least a little of the credit and was subsequently tossed in jail.
Besides Vikernes, the film focuses on Gylve "Fenriz" Nagell, drummer and lyricist for Darkthrone, and Kjetil-Vidar Haraldstad, or "Frost" as he is known (oh, scary), drummer for Satyricon. "Fenriz" is a likable sort, but "Frost" is a goon. Toward the end of the film, we are granted the "pleasure" of watching "Frost" perform a delightful program of fire breathing, couch stabbing, and self-mutilation. It's all bloody and flamey and dumb. Until the Light Takes Us, though, is a fascinating piece of documentary filmmaking. I couldn't be one of these black metal dudes though. They're always so dour. And what's with all the leather and spikes? Uncomfortable.
#9. Anvil!: The Story of Anvil
Robb Reiner (not that one) and Lips
From Norwegian black metal to Canadian heavy metal. Anvil!: The Story of Anvil is, well, it's right there in the title, I guess. Anvil is comprised of Robb Reiner and Steve "Lips" Kudlow (and two other guys, but whatever). Reiner and Lips met as 14-year-old Canadian lads and formed a bond that has lasted almost 40 years. Respected by their peers--hard rock luminaries like Slash, Lemmy from Motorhead, and that one guy from Twisted Sister who isn't Dee Snider--Anvil never got the fame and fortune they so richly thought they deserved. Their crowning achievement--before the release of this film anyway--had been performing at something called the Super Rock Festival in Japan in 1984, alongside Bon Jovi, Whitesnake, and the Scorpions. After that, nothing, though Slash suggests that a lot of popular bands of the time ripped Anvil off.
Here's the thing: Anvil isn't bad. I mean, for what they do. They don't make the kind of music I enjoy and I would never buy an Anvil record, not even ironically--who has the time or money for that nonsense, especially after one turns 30--but they do what they do and they do it competently. Reiner is a helluva metal drummer. And Lips has got the guitar skills and the pipes. Well, he's got the guitar skills at least. And he's got a supportive family, which is refreshing.
Whether or not you enjoy their music, you can't deny their tenacity, or rather, Lips's tenacity. This guy not only wants to make it, but he knows he is going to. Reiner goes along for the ride because he loves Lips like a brother, though he does quit the band twice during the film.
The doc ends where it all began: Japan. Can Anvil pack a 20,000 seater at 11:35 in the morning? I'll let you find out for yourself.
GEP says: WATCH 'EM BOTH!
