Metal Odyssey

Hey All,

If you have not gathered so far, intellectual enthusiasts of popular culture always intrigue me, probably because I enjoy someone who can successfully articulate their perspective as an insider, but more than likely because I consider myself one of their ilk-and I exist if, for no other reason, to justify myself each and every day. Therefore it is a great pleasure to hear a well-articulated analysis of something even I have considered lowbrow at one point...Heavy Metal.

Granted, Sam Dunn and Scot McFayden the writer/director team of the 2005 documentary Metal: A Headbanger's Journey explore the cultural facets in close and academic manner, without losing touch with their subject matter. They cannot, Metal is in their blood. My personal change in viewpoint regarding the merits of Heavy Metal did not begin and end with the efforts of Messrs Dunn and McFayden, no, that began years ago in graduate school when I was stunned to find many an English Lit graduate student equally invested in Metal, but this documentary jelled many issues for me, and settled many more.

See, where I grew up, the handful of metalheads I encountered were more likely as not intoxicated thugs, more inclined to break windows at the high school, burn down playground equipment, and torture farm animals than grasp and wrestle their spiritual disillusionment through Metal. Perhaps I would have been better off growing up in Vancouver, BC with Dunn and McFayden.

Its sad, Metal: A Headbanger's Journey was released in 2005, and though I had several opportunities to view it on cable, I never got to see it from beginning to end. There was also the issue of prime-time cable censorship as well-too many distracting blips and beeps while artists and fans expressed themselves in their tradition vernacular-they cussed a lot, as many a metal head would be expected to do.

So praise for this film is a bit late in coming, to be sure.

Two things impressed me most about Metal; the filmmaker's efforts to create a Heavy Metal family tree, and the alacrity with which they consistently returned to this tree as they made progress through the roots and tenets of metal, the second impressive effort was the deeply articulate and insightful interviews with an array of metal artists. After listening to the likes of Bruce Dickinson (Iron Maiden), Ronnie James Dio (Dio, Black Sabbath), and Lemmy (Motorhead) (just to name a very small few) speak about their craft and careers I realized they are just as much artists as any other.

It's always frustrating to view a documentary on a subject with whom you are already familiar, you feel the film's efforts are redundant or simply preaching to the choir. A great deal of the time these failings are due to time and financial constraints placed up the filmmakers. Metal succeeds where so many other documentaries fail, because though its faced with the same constraints, it succeeds in enlightening its audience in unforeseen ways. Through some very direct interviews with both artists, media and cultural critics, I walked away no longer seeing metal heads as nothing but a bunch of screaming brutes, but a subculture in a sincere search for themselves and a community.

The only point of contention I had with the film was its persistent belief in the resilience of metal in a metalhead's life, not too unlike the all-purveying attitude of a Marine, "Once a Marine always a Marine." Similar statements are made about metal in the film, there appeared to be an all or nothing belief in commitment to the culture; you couldn't ride the fence regarding metal, it was all or nothing.

I listened to metal for a while in my youth, and much later as an adult during a really, really angry time. Since I was raised to vent verbally and not physically, I had no recourse but to drive straight for the record store, pick up copies of Metallica, Rob Zombie, and Iron Maiden and go for one long, long drive with the tape deck volume cranked to eleven.

It helped. It helped a lot. It was a method of therapy I have used on more than one occasion since. But, I'm sorry, I am no metalhead, nor will I ever be at this late date. You won't find me tossing in the pit and I cut my hair off ten years ago. I'm not going to be setting up my pup tent at OzFest and subsisting on beer and corndogs for a weekend. That won't be happening. But I wonder, had I made the metal commitment when younger, would I be a more grounded person now? Its a stretch, I know, but lets play with the notion for just a moment...
--Okay moment over!

Regardless, have no doubt, I'll support you when you scream and shout at the devil. No problem.

And I highly recommend Metal: A Headbanger's Journey to those highbrow, lowbrow, and the creatures in between.

More Later,
Coletrane