Director: Jonathan Demme
Though the film is slated for a Fall release, I recently had the good fortune to see renowned director Jonathan Demme’s latest concert documentary, which features Justin Timberlake and his band, the Tennessee Kids. The screening was a top secret affair being that the film is a work in progress. Though the subject matter was also supposed to be a mystery to the audience, IMDB is terrible at keeping secrets. Many audience members, including myself, were hardly kept in suspense.
I had reservations about seeing the film. My musical tastes and prejudices precluded me from ever taking NSYNC, Timberlake's former boy-band and his solo work seriously. So I wondered why Demme; who gave us what I consider the quintessential concert film: Stop Making Sense, would fritter his time and talent on a performer I summarily dismissed as a fluff merchant years ago.
But after seeing the film, I can honestly say I was shocked and delighted to find the documentary is electrifying, absorbing and a significant contribution to the concert film genre. Is it as good as Stop Making Sense? At the risk of making a heretical statement, I will say yes, it is. If you find my assessment shocking, then all I can say is; wait until you see his new film. I don’t know if the film made me appreciate the music, but it convinced me Timberlake is a performer par excellence.
I think the label concert film does the film an injustice. I didn’t feel I saw a film about a concert but a concert itself. Who better to give us the experience than Demme, who left us feeling we had shared the stage with The Talking Heads.
To give us the experience of a live show, Demme doesn’t bog down his film with talking heads (the other kind) who might distract us from the sensual delights the concert affords. Demme gets to the point, tout suite. He shows us we’re in Las Vegas, then shows Timberlake arriving by Escalade then takes us inside the arena where we are promptly introduced to his band and dancers, or I should say they introduce themselves to us. We see the band in stage costume--black tuxes for the men; black dresses for woman and sexy unisex, tux-like outfits for the dancers. With no time for the film--or the band--to dawdle, we see Timberlake gather his fellow performers for a pre-show pep talk before cutting to a shot of him standing below the stage while the crew awaits the cue to send him upward on a lift.
The pulse quickening sound of the roaring crowd is highly audible, even below the stage. We see Timberlake and his band rise simultaneously while the crowd expresses its riotous approbation. The show begins.
An expert at capturing the energy of live shows, Demme keeps the camera close to the stage and the performers and of course Timberlake is never far from his frames. One may not be prepared for the visceral impact of Timberlake’s live show. Demme prefers to keep it loud but the music is accompanied by sensational choreography; a tight band and a dazzling visual show. What looked like a polygonal backdrop was actually translucent; allowing lights to shine through. It also served as an ad hoc video screen. The laser lights are almost overwhelming but are nevertheless an exceptional feature. But foremost in the concert--behind the visually arresting flash and dazzle, is the music. Timberlake could probably get away with dance moves and lip-syncing and the smoke and mirrors of a blinding light show but he doesn’t cut corners. He and the Tennessee Kids work hard to make music, which doesn’t let up during the film’s 90 minute running time.
Timberlake’s voice is stronger than I anticipated while he and his dancer’s moves are precise and well choreographed. His generosity toward his band is commendable; everyone has a moment (or moments) to shine.
The fact that I know or knew none of Timberlake's songs beforehand seemed irrelevant. Unfamiliarity allowed for serendipity. For Demme, prior exposure to an artist’s music isn’t a problem either. One's not knowing The Talking Heads' music would not make Stop Making Sense any less exhilarating. The energy of Timberlake’s music and the band's almost perpetual kineticism call to mind Demme's masterpiece.
Demme understands the ecstatic potential of music. I don't think its hyperbolic to say his film will leave one feeling euphoric or in awe. Others might feel the loud music and stunning stage show to be an assault on the senses. A woman I know who also saw the film found the light show too much to bear. Be warned; Demme’s film reaches for maximum, sensual impact. Is it too much? You be the judge, but I will say that another half hour of the film just might have been. Of course this isn't a final cut so who knows what or how much will be jettisoned?
Over the closing credits, we see the show being slowly assembled on the arena floor. It’s an interesting choice to have the assembling process follow the concert. The counter-chronological effect is terrific. We also see a time-lapse of stage coming together. It's a clever end to an astounding show and film. My suggestion to Jonathan Demme about editing: don’t change a thing.
The quality of Demme’s narrative films have declined in recent years (Ricki and the Flash was inexcusable) but his music documentaries are as alive and inspired as ever. I would have never expected to be writing a glowing review of a documentary featuring Justin Timberlake but here it is. Demme's talent for documenting concerts is incomparable. I’m beginning to think Demme could make a concert about a Bay City Rollers tribute band riveting. Let's hope we never see that kind of show. Let's just be grateful for what he's accomplished here.
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