It Might Get Loud

It's hypnotic. It's incredible. I don't think this can properly be called a movie; it's so close to a rock album in sheer street cred.

The first thing you see after production logos is Jack White, one of the most interesting men in rock and roll, puffing away, building a one string guitar on his porch on a farm from scratch. After playing a few short riffs, he unplugs the jack and turns the amp off. "Who says you need to buy a guitar?"

What follows after the credits is an exploration of a vast variety of subjects, unified by the instrument that best represents the 20th century in music: the electric guitar. From six strings, a few electronics and a lot of wood and varnish, we branch out to rock'n'roll, the blues, alternative rock, songwriting, the nature of performance, endless discussions about effects and how they affect songwriting--or in some cases effect it. Jimmy Page, Edge and Jack White are three of the most fascinating guitarists on Earth and form a generational cross-section of guitar society. Page plays guitar because it's what he's done since he was seven; Edge plays because Larry posted a Musicians Wanted ad; Jack never wanted to play guitar in the first place.

As a documentary, it's entirely unique. There are no dates or place names. As Roger Ebert said of 45365, this isn't that kind of documentary. Guggenheim assumes your familiarity with Led Zeppelin, U2 and The White Stripes. You aren't here to learn about how the bands formed from the perspectives of the guitarists. You're here to learn how the guitarists formed your perspective of the band.

You don't watch this movie for some profound insight on the nature of the guitar; you watch it for the privilege of seeing three men who've re-invented the electric guitar for a generation discussing music. Profound insight happens along the way, but that's not as important as the little things.

Page cursing a bum chord in their final jam. White reacting with astonishment to a Son House song he's heard 1000 times. Edge searching for a sound, warning the camera crew "it might get loud".

Such small moments make up the bulk of what's to like in It Might Get Loud. It's not about the guitar or the guitarists, or music for that matter. It recreates the experience of all three while never directly reproducing them. It's unique unto itself and should be part of the new required viewing for music-, documentary- or film-lovers everywhere.

I suppose I'm a little biased when it comes to talking about documentaries about music, more so when it comes to documentaries about rock. I am just a complete sucker for them. I love rock + I love cinema = I love "rockumentaries" – even when is not a masterpiece. So it was pretty obvious that I was going to love It Might Get Loud (Davis Guggenheim, 2008). And I did. I did even though the way the film is put together –divided in chapters – doesn't really work for me and despite the fact that I think it doesn't go deep in the subjects that matter the most nor shows the relationship built between the three characters right until the end and very briefly.

Anyway, I did love it and here is why: The official synopsis is "A documentary on the electric guitar from the point of view of three significant rock musicians: the Edge, Jimmy Page and Jack White". I know, I KNOW. The choice of the characters is controversial. Besides Jimmy Page, who is unanimity, The Edge and Jack White are not the guitarist that come to mind when most people think about the greatest of their kind - which you sort of expect and want when you think about a documentary about the electric guitar. But I liked the choices, they are bold and you have to bear in mind that Jimmy Page is the executive producer, so they were pretty much his choices. Then, like the synopsis points out, this is more about different perspectives and it is not about great guitarist, but about the guitar. So, the Edge and Jack White end up being perfect. Their approach to the guitar couldn't be more different.

Jack White is more of a purist. He likes the basic sounds of the guitars, he doesn't mess with it that much. He doesn't even really care if the guitar is broken or out of tune. Right at the other corner, creating an opposition, there is The Edge. He loooves the special effects, distortions, pedals and everything else that technology can do to the sound of a guitar. Finally, in the middle, balancing things out, you find one of the Gods: Jimmy Page (who I don't think needs any sort of introduction even to people who don't like rock). And it all works. It works not only because the script is neatly put together, weighing and balancing the differences, but because somewhere around the beginning of the film something becomes very clear: despite being about the guitar and despite being very different men from different times of the rock history, they share their love for music and their desire to change the world through it. So, the film becomes much more about music and passion and there is no way you can be immune and dislike it.

1/15/18. I love electric guitar music but this rockumentary comes off being uneven in its approach. I loved when they played their guitars, but the narratives were not that enlightening. Oh well.

Good, but a bit disappointing. I am a massive fan of Jimmy Page and Jack White - Led Zeppelin is my favourite band, and the White Stripes would be amongst my favourites, plus I liked U2 when they made good music, i.e. until about 1989. So what was the problem?

It just felt a bit empty in the end. Like, so what? Maybe it is that I have seen just about every rock documentary ever made that made the guitarists' revelations seem a bit empty.

Also, the mutual back-slapping got a bit tiresome.

This all said, there was a lot of great stuff in here. Hearing Jimmy Page talk about how he got into playing guitar, his early bands, showing us the spot where John Bonham played the amazing drum-intro on When The Levee Breaks (which explained the unique sound to that track), seeing some of Jack White's pyrotechnics, The Edge talking us through the technology he uses in producing his sound, and hearing the sound.

It Might Get Loud, a documentary about the beginnings of three prolific guitarists and how they use their instrument—Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White—won me over and finally showed me that attraction people have to rock 'n roll. These dudes are badass. Directed by Davis Guggenheim, he of The Inconvenient Truth as well as a slew of great television show credits, the story not only uses historical footage and interviews with the trio separately, but also puts them in the same room, with a plethora of their own axes, to converse, both verbally and rhythmically. Watching them play a song together is a real treat, seeing the pure joy they have of making music, catching a glimpse at the boyish wonder they have for each other, constantly looking to see what the others are doing, and comparing their styles. Page has not lost a step as he grooves and moves the entire time he is playing, lips pursing and expanding, the music taking control of his body; The Edge is the consummate professional, stoic concentration, standing straight and playing with determination; and White sits or stands casually and at ease, the guitar high and close, showing a bluegrass feel just like his voice and chords.

You may be wondering—as I did before going in too—what White is doing in this mix. Page produced the film, he got the group together to play, and so he must have seen something in the youngster. Maybe he needed juxtaposition with The Edge, a stripped down raw sound against the U2 man's heavy use of effects and computers, (when you hear the actual chords he plays without the digital enhancements, you won't believe it). Either way, it does not take long to see that the driving force of The White Stripes, The Raconteurs, and The Dead Weather belongs. The film does open up to him making a guitar out of a Coke bottle, plank of wood, and a single string after all. Who needs to buy a guitar? And his knowledge of the craft is extensive, with a childhood story that goes against odds to have gotten to the point he is at today. The youngest of ten children, never wanting to play the guitar, apprenticing at an upholstery shop, and having to force his sister to go on stage with him for their first gig, it all began with the exposure to a song by Son House, his favorite piece of music still to this day.

We know about Page and his days in the Yardbirds before Led Zeppelin. Heck, some may even know he was a session guitarist before that, playing on anything that came his way before finally needing to get out and create his own sound, to use a loud crescendo without recourse. However, did you know that The Edge would never have met Bono and company, U2 may never have been, if not for a flyer on his school's cork board looking to start a band? The foursome from Ireland were, admittedly, not that good at the start, but they continued on, finding their voice and politics as the years went. Only when Bono told him to take some time off and experiment by himself did he discover he could write. One may think these superpowers of rock music just got together and the rest was history, but no, they all had their "breastfeeding" moments, as captioned in the movie, instances where they had to work and keep going. It's a world based on hard work, no matter what your occupation, to resonate and reach the masses means earning it.

No matter how enthralling the background stories and early footage of the three—through video, stills, whatever they had available to share—it is the electricity seeing the trio together that caught my attention. I'd love to see the unedited reels of just that meeting in January of 2008. What is shown is wonderful, but too brief. Sure, the moments of jamming are wonderful, but the conversations are always cut short. I wanted to see them pick each other's brains. You get a little of that with Page asking The Edge if he was sure the one note was supposed to be a C, or when The Edge relays to the others during the credits that he had been playing the wrong note the whole time they covered a song, but that's just correcting each other and having fun. There had to have been questions like, "how did you do that?" or "how was it doing that?" or even "how high were you when you wrote that?" Maybe the DVD culls some of those moments; it would be well worth the purchase I'm sure.

It's a rare thing to see artists interviewing artists, or just being in close proximity and watching what occurs. The more straightforward documentary parts are even narrated by them alone; only a few instances bring in an outside source, presumably Guggenheim, to pass on a query. One of the most memorable scenes is just Page in his home library full of vinyl, wall to wall. He takes a 7" out of its sleeve and puts in on the player so he can show us the power of "Rumble," a rock instrumental by Link Wray. The legend just stands in front of the camera giggling like a little boy, face full of unadulterated joy. He starts to mimic the hand movements, playing air guitar to the song, as he explains the distortion progression as the song continues on. We are experiencing a piece of history filmed live, watching one of the greatest guitarists on the planet show his cards and lift the curtain to what inspired him. And that is what these three men are: inspirations. They touch people young and old, hit them emotionally and create change, either large or small. They are living the dream and looking cool doing it.