Stop Making Sense

This concert/movie is simply a brilliant collaboration of music and film. First off, you have the Talking Heads, perhaps one of the most creative and interesting bands in the history of music who put on a concert that is so imaginative that I still cannot believe it happened. Second, you have veteran Director Johnathan Demme who brings the darkness and creepiness that he used in such films as Silence of the Lambs and Philadelphia, to a concert with sort of a dark and creepy demeanor, i.e. David Byrne in general, the style of music, the dancing. I mean dark and creepy in a good way however. I cannot help to think that this movie is also a comedy. David Byrne's movements, the bass players dancing, the songs and just everything i get a kick out of. I have always been a big fan of the Talking Heads, but after seeing this movie, my love for them skyrockets. They are a unbelievable band with an imagination that rivals that of the likes of Shel Silverstein and the Cohen Brothers. I could literally go on and on about how brilliant this movie is. I think the next time i watch it, i may actually get up and dance. I only wish that I could have been at the actual show. I also cannot figure out what I like better, The Last Waltz or this. Shame on anybody who badmouths this movie or the band in general. See this and then see it again and again and again. 10/10

I bought this film without ever having seen it. I liked the Talking Heads and had heard about the movie. Suffice it to say that I was amazed! The genious of starting with just a bare stage with David Byrne singing his sublime live version of Psycho Killer, then adding equiptment and band members was so weird, so brilliant. The energy and stamina shown by Mr. Byrne in this film borders on creepy. Was there a mountain of coke backstage, or is he a marathon runner? Not for me to know. How he was able to bend that far backwards during Once In A Lifetime I'll never know! All in all a real concert experience, combining the brilliance and showmanship of the Talking Heads with a master director like Jonathan Demme. It's no wonder that their compilation, Sand In The Vaseline, includes two live tracks seen on the film.

Before I saw Stop Making Sense I had never been particularly concerned with The Talking Heads, or lead-singer and solo-artist David Byrne. Indeed, I had always been a fan of certain songs, such as "Burning Down the House" and "Psycho Killer", but I had never actually spent time becoming acquainted with the band's music on the whole. However, Stop Making Sense was something I was desperate to view, due to the substantial amount of praise that had been garnered over the years since its release. Now it is safe to say that The Talking Heads rank among my favourite bands, thanks to this masterpiece of musical art.

Essentially, Stop Making Sense is a showcase of the band's collected works. Throughout the 90-minute running-time the concert simultaneously covers the back-catalogue of The Talking Heads, through fluid, non-stop vibrancy. From "Found a Job" and "Take Me to the River" the work is merely a sample of the group's ability to provide some of the most engaging live shows ever recorded. To say that the film is "original" would be an understatement, given that the title still rings true today. Stop Making Sense defines the band's abilities, attitudes, styles and motifs. The New Wave approach the film takes is stylistically engaging to such an extent that it is virtually impossible to draw your eyes away from the screen. Minimalist set-pieces move along with the mood of the music at such a rate that much of the picture feels like a kaleidoscope of blistering sound and trancelike imagery.

David Byrne is the key constituent; bestowing his stage presence, creativity and musical proficiency. His stage dynamics are let loose during Stop Making Sense. The infamously over-sized business suit donned by David Byrne is otherworldly, just like the viewing experience, which transports you into a deep-seated, vivacious trance. Yet it is the suit which distinguishes the work completely. The fact that a regular item of clothing can have the ability to make the wearer seem out-of-proportion and disfigured is both mystifying and captivating. Even more bizarre is that the suit seems to grow relatively larger as the concert progresses. Personal interpretation could be that the suit is an implicative metaphor for the irony of the business world or conformity; on the other hand it could just be about not making sense.

Academy award winning director Jonathan Demme does not just "get the gist of The Talking Heads". Instead he is able to comprehend the themes of the band's work from an unmistakably refined tone that he captures through his direction. The irregularity of the group may be hard for some viewers to swallow, but that can be expected from a group which make music of an acquired taste. As for the choreography, it seems there is none, since the musicians all behave in a volatile and limitless manner. The progressively shifted set-pieces convey the altered reality that you have become apart of, and are an extraordinary example of unbound craftsmanship. Stop Making Sense ultimately displays the band's antics from their perspective; this is due to the extended takes of the performers and the lack of audience shots (the fans can only be seen during wide shots or when the camera moves behind the performers). There are even moments where the viewer effectively becomes apart of the band. A prime example of this manoeuvre is when the camera swings behind drummer Chris Frantz and faces the audience during the rendition of "Thank You for Sending me an Angel."

Characteristically speaking it is hopeless trying to describe the feeling you receive while viewing Stop Making Sense. This is because when seen and heard the mind becomes so fixated with the audacious madness of the piece that every viewer will react differently. Personally, this is the concert which I would irrefutably name as the finest ever recorded, maybe you will too.

'Stop Making Sense' is more than simply a concert film. It is pure cinema. It engages all of the senses, it creates a mood, it establishes an atmosphere, it has narrative logic, and it jolts the viewer with electric energy. You can't sit still while watching this. You can't keep your head from bobbing, or your mouth from moving, if you know the words to the songs.

Twenty years later, the sound and image of Talking Heads still feels new, maybe even post-new. It's frightening to look at this film and then consider that all of the Talking Heads are now in their fifties, and David Byrne's hair is as white as Steve Martin's. Byrne's music has mellowed just as people mellow with age, and his fascinating career along with the direction it's taken is emblematic of the excitement that youth brings to an artist's work. To watch 'Stop Making Sense' is to be alive, and for someone who never had and probably never will have the opportunity to see Talking Heads live, and even for those who have, it is a blessing to have a film such as this to preserve the unmatched innovation and energy of this band. Watching David Byrne perform in this film is an awesome sight. Schwarzenegger and Stallone were never this thrilling.

It's a good thing that the Talking Heads broke up when they did. I mean, could you imagine them slogging it out today, playing the state fair circuit, or worse, the street fair circuit? No, watch this film. See a band at its creative and energetic peak. Remember them as they were over the two or three days in which it was filmed. Of course, you must watch David Byrne. He would make his entire body a performance art. He would contort, jog, dance, leap, and even make his clothes a prop.

But, watch Tina Weymouth...

Tina is a very visual performer too. She says almost nothing, letting her bass guitar speak for her. And while David goes over the top often, Tina is subtle and sublime. With her body moves as she dances in place. With her facial expressions, her smiles, occasional raised eyebrows, and glances. Then when the action shifts to the Tom Tom Club (in order to give David a break and allow him to change into his big suit), her big moment is for one song only--"Genius of Love" but man does she seize the moment and make it all her own! Rounding out the Talking Heads of course are drummer Chris Frantz (Tina Weymouth's husband for over 30 years now) and guitarist/keyboardist Jerry Harrison. When Chris takes the stage, he bounds up onto the riser, bows, and with a big smile, gets drumming. He is clearly enjoying himself during this and at the end of the show, he jubilantly throws his sticks into the audience. Jerry is a little harder to get a bead on. At times he's clearly enjoying himself, particularly on BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE. Other times he seems a little detached.

Rounding out the touring band are Alex Weir on lead guitar, Bernie Worrel on keyboards, Edna Holt and Lynn Marbry on back-up vocals, and Steve Scales on percussion. None are treated as sidemen, rather as an integral part of the show.

It has been commented that some "sweetening" of the sound was done. But I believe that it was to achieve sound consistency. I have heard several concert films with terrible audio (RUST NEVER SLEEPS comes to mind). Seeing this movie is what made me a Talking Heads fan back in 1985. Finding a copy at the used book store in 2006 is what helped me re-discover them.

It would be easy to dismiss the Talking Heads as all visual as all David Byrne. Such is not the case. The songwriting and musicianship was solid throughout the band's career. The band remained together for several more years, scoring several additional hits including AND SHE WAS, LADY DON'T MIND, & WILD WILD LIFE. They called it quits as a band in 1991, although all four members have remained active in music.