In the mid 1980s, after nearly ten years together, the Talking Heads were finally reaching a peak of mainstream success. Having recently parted ways with longtime producer Brian Eno, the band finally had their first top ten hit, "Burning Down The House" from the Speaking In Tongues album. The subsequent tour for the album would be their biggest, and to build off the hype, asked fledgling filmmaker at-the-time Jonathan Demme to help create a chronicle of a new stage/film concept devised by Talking Heads frontman David Byrne.
A Byrne Production, A Demme Film
The rather simple nature and originality of the idea is deceptively direct. The show begins with just Byrne as he walks on stage with a guitar and boombox. Another band member joins him for each song, and soon the entire band is supported by keyboards, auxillary percussion, and back up singers. They play songs from all across their career, music influenced by everything from punk rock to Fela Kuti. What once was a barren stage has been drapped in black. In fact, there is really nothing to look at on stage other than the performers, and of course, Byrne and Demme did this on purpose.
By removing all distraction from the stage, the musicians and their body language are the visual focus of the film. Keyboard player Bernie Worrell stares towards guitarist Jerry Harrison and says everything with a twist of his head. Byrne's eccentric performance, from his stumbling through "Psycho Killer" to his leg-jiveing in "Life During Wartime", up to the big suit of "Girlfriend is Better". There are few rapidly cut sequences and extreme closeups, as Demme holds on members for long amounts of time as they play, absorbing their electricity. The audience is left out for the most too, since they aren't the show after all.
A Documentary As Much As A Concert Film
Demme's gaze allows for a longer look at the performer and at the energy it takes to make the music of the Talking Heads live. Every beat resonates through the small rhythms of each player's movement. The pace acts allows full room for the intensity of the performers, especially the background musicians. Guitarist Alex Weir's fierocity with his instrument is something to see. Moments of spontaneity with percussionist Steve Scales as he sticks his tongue out to the camera or when he calls for cheers from the audience, show the light-hearted nature of the whole affair. When the audience is finally revealed in the last song, the absolute enjoyment of this wonderful techno-afro-beat hybrid band shines supreme. 4 out of 4
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