Brothers of the Head

I suppose that a film about co-joined twins who become punk rock stars in the mid-70's has to have something going for it and, indeed, this partially successful film did keep me gripped for most of the journey. As with most rock films, melodrama is the order of the day and this is no exception as the boys face physical abuse, drugs and rock star blow-out in the grand tradition of the likes of Hazel O'Connor in that other punk drama Breaking Glass.

There is much to like in this film including the stylised direction which veers away from the mockumentary format into more creative territory from time to time. There are some excellent ideas at play here; including scenes from an 'unfinished' Ken Russell film.

The problem is that this film is screaming out to be great little cult film but it never quite succeeds; perhaps its the lack of humour and the ease with which it lapses into cliché. Mostly though I think the tired 'mockumentary' format is what ultimately works against this film. Interesting and worthwhile but ultimately not the success it should and could have been.

One of the most realistic mockumentaries to ever hit the silver screen, Brothers of the Head boasts its high production value with a big head. This film pours its soul into the authenticity of the circa 1970's ambiance and climate, and never looks back, or forward at that. This film about a pair of conjoined twins that become a British rock group, is simply too difficult to absorb. The twins played by real-life brothers Harry and Luke Treadaway, could be the one redeeming quality of the film, besides the amazing authenticity, which keeps us guessing if this is a real documentary or not. Unfortunately the music in this film lends to the authenticity of Brit-rock at the time, and is just obnoxious and at no point catchy. Along with the annoyingly loud and incomprehensible music is the unnecessary dream sequences meshed with flashbacks of the two young twins. Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe, directors of the film, simply do not re-create the magic they had in Lost in La Mancha. Although this is a very noble and heartfelt attempt at showing the exploitation of the entertainment industry, it simply is too bona fide for its own good.

This film lingered in the memory for days after I saw it. It was a portrait, not only of the scabbier side of the music business, but of the intimacy, love and hate that exists between siblings of all descriptions. A lot of it rang true; the cinematic values were lovingly collaged within an overall 'feel' that was at times stunningly beautiful. The performances, particularly of the real-life identical twin brothers, Luke and Harry Treadaway, were lyrical, loving and intense. There was a sense that these two talented actors-who are also rock musicians in their own right, no musical stand-ins or overdubbing here-were giving the performances of a lifetime. After all, how many conjoined-twin-rock-star movies are there likely to be? Having said that, the fictional Howe brothers made a stunning metaphor for the freakishness that is almost a natural part of getting on a stage and screaming into a microphone; it really looked as though it could work, especially in this post-Slipknot world.

The plot was, at times, obscure; there was perhaps a bit too much cleverness in the multiple, and terribly post-modern, overlapping of supposedly-documentary narratives. I found that there was so much going on within the structure that I hardly noticed the climax of the story.

In all, to my surprise, I would describe this as a beautiful film, but with enough rock'n'roll grit to keep me riveted. We need more films like this.

Directors Fulton and Pepe get full marks for the rare feat of making a film where the fake-verite style is not a distraction and takes a back seat to the story and characters.

The film is very deftly crafted, especially considering the subject matter. After all, the film is about conjoined twins being sold to a music promoter who wants to make them into pop stars. (The mind boggles at the heavy-handed way such a story MIGHT have been told.)

And, yes, there is an actual meat and potatoes story here. The fact that these brothers are conjoined is key to the plot, but mercifully, it is NOT a one-note gag that the whole film is hung on.

The directors made many interesting and ultimately daring choices, such as shooting the film in a verite style. Unfortunately, this will beg obvious (but ultimately irrelevant) comparisons to other fake-verite films with musical themes.

Another interesting choice was shooting the performance scenes in what appear to be live takes, rather than having the actors lip sync to a studio recording. This seems like an insane choice because of the extra casting and logistic hassles. You'd have to find actors that could actually play, get them to practice together and then who knows if they'll be a decent band. But they pull it off. The music is authentic-sounding pre-punk--an undeniably raw and vital soundtrack. (I'll buy the soundtrack for sure. They could even put this band on tour and I'd go see them.) So, here's to insane choices.

There are modest, surreal sequences between some scenes, but the directors know when to say when on this. The art-house crowd (and the stoned) are thrown a bone. But normal people will not be left rolling their eyes or checking their watch. These parts don't feel like art for art's sake.

The casting is amazing. Using two different actors to play the older and younger versions of certain characters is yet another interesting choice. A few of the actors bear such a striking resemblance to one another that you may find yourself scanning the credits to see if they're related.

This is the first narrative film by these two directors and I wholeheartedly encourage them to make many more films.

Dogmatically realistic mockumentary observing the bizarre life and times of Tom and Barry Howe, conjoined twins who take a ride to punk rock stardom in mid 70's England, is quite the mixed bag. On the one hand you have a completely unique character study(s), aided by unfettered realism, even tragically punctuated by the two amazing twin leads (twins themselves). The moments actually trying to make an emotional statement feel quite profound, the boys we're simply amazing in their required roles. However, these moments become few and far between around the mindfully conceived, though flawed majority of this overextended what-should-have been-a-short. Despite the introduction of many characters and several different perspectives given coverage throughout, this still cannot shake the vibe of being a one-trick pony. Although short for a feature, it clearly does not have enough juice to make it through to the finish line unscathed. With the (period appropriate) documentary-style filming abound and all of it's horrible aesthetic ramifications, the interesting approach does succeed at becoming an item of half-truths in the improvised grandeur and supreme realism of it's ways. Unfortunately the majority of on screen time pervading this realism does not translate all that well to film, and only when the brother's inner spaces are illuminated in the film's keenest moments does the movie hint at the true appeal that will be lost on the majority of viewers unable to connect with the pretty inaccessible subplots and overall style. If not for the little, but riveting emotional substance to be mined from this movie, mainly I can see no other reason for the indulgence in this soon-to-be-cult-but-likely-for-no-one-else oddity, except for old school, Sex Pistolesqe, punk rock fans who will likely froth at the mouth through a good half of the footage dedicated to the band's assault of their songs, as all other viewers feel assaulted in their ears. The nasty homage of a soundtrack that fuels this fictional band does have some fittingly manic style, a dash of intelligence, and attitude to spare, but becomes immediate second(if not third!) fiddle to the sole saving grace throughout the interesting experiment : How real, Howe's were