True Stories

Although some scenes (like the fashion show) are clear absurdist parodies, Byrne tends to approach his topics more as an observer than a critic. Often the tone is sympathetic, never critical.

Although much of Byrne's commentary is at best cryptic or anticlimactic ("Personally, I believe -- I can see Ft. Worth from here."), there is much profundity beneath the absurdism. Byrne's reflections on forgetting are particularly apt.

This is not a film to approach with any expectations. Just watch and absorb, and let what you see percolate in your mind.

John Goodman's character is also the most charming Everyman to grace the screen since Marty.

The music sequences are also among the best I've ever seen.

Rent it and watch it on a big screen TV. Watch sober. Watch under the influence of your favorite mind-altering substance. Watch alone. Watch with friends. Watch when you're alert and rested. Watch when you're tired. Watch again and again.

At this late date, TRUE STORIES – the lone feature film directed by renaissance man/rock-n-roll artiste/ex-Rhode Island School of Design student David Byrne - is viewed (if remembered as all) as a cerebral artifact from the 80s. TRUE STORIES is a far from flawless film, and its' influence is highly debatable. But the 90s saw an explosion of films wrapped in an aura of aloof, ironic cool – bits of very low-key postmodernist voyeuristic glimpses into the day-to-day lives of 'ordinary people' – either lauded or ridiculed for their 'authenticity.'

Simultaneously, a number of feature films were also exploring the limits of a dubious sub-style known as faux-documentary. And – great or not – this fascinating film reworked the possibilities of both long before most of the competition. In essence, this is a very detached take on the musical – set in fictional Virgil, Texas – a small-but-growing prairie boomtown notable for its antiseptic normality. Each of the principal characters are based upon people Byrne (who co-wrote the screenplay) had read about in tabloid newspapers – hence the man so lonely he buys commercial time to advertise himself on TV (John Goodman), the laziest woman in the world (Swoozie Kurtz), the world's worst pathological liar (Jo Harvey Allen), and spectacles like the mall fashion show, where we get to see (among other treats) a 3-piece suit made entirely out of lawn clippings (What?!?! No macramé, velvet paintings, tractor pulls or decoupage?). Byrne – who appears as a travel guide/narrator - gently escorts the audience through this offbeat parade, as the varied denizens of Virgil do what they do, occasionally pausing to sing one of the numerous songs (genre exercises well-matched to the characters - watch for a great 'Papa Legba' performed by the late Pops Staples) written by Byrne for the film. At worst, TRUE STORIES could be viewed as the enthusiastic and genuinely inspired work of an ambitious, intellectual urbanite who really, really ought to get out more – and Byrne should be credited for not indulging in the sneering, aloof insularity that has occasionally infected more recent films of this variety.

But at best it comes across as a genuine attempt at presenting a unique variety of homegrown, Americana-style surrealism – something that might possibly qualify as a specific strand of folk art and culture that would be a rural counterpart to what folks like Keith Haring, Laurie Anderson, Barbara Krueger, Spalding Grey – and Byrne – were doing in the insular world of Manhattan in the 1980s. TRUE STORIES looks amazing – thanks to the sparse cinematography, and Spalding Grey, John Goodman (as Byrne's comic foil) and Pops Staples are all great. A genuinely seminal, if flawed film.

The film itself is rich in it's look and content. True stories is Set in A fictional small town in Texas, celebrating the 150th anniversary of the state in it's own small way. Byrne points out how many small American towns shape themselves politically and culturally from the inside. The scenes of the vast Texas landscape reflect the isolation of little Virgil. Byrne drives past a row of brand new houses with four car garages and asks "who do you think lives here?", much like he does in some of his TH songs such as "Big Country" and "Dont Worry About the Government". When we do meet who lives there we are greeted by a quite eclectic bunch; the world's laziest woman, Louis the desperate bachelor, Ramon, the voodoo priest. Often when we visit small unassuming towns, we are surprised by what we find. Byrne's character obviously had some assumptions about Virgil, Texas. He walks around town in a stetson hat and cowboy shirts and wonders why everyone else doesn't dress the same way. The songs are terrific in the film. I was well familiar with the TH album of the same name before I saw the film, but many of the renditions are on par with the unofficial soundtrack, particularly "papa legba" and Goodman's "people like us". The movie is an homage to Byrne's fascination to small town America and folk art. Byrne's commentary over a series of photo montages are great too, like when he gives the history of Texas in about 3 minutes noting that "the Spaniards offered the indians a chance to become slaves. The indians thought about this, decided it was not a good idea, and killed the Spaniards" Those that really dislike this movie are, on some level, just not getting it.

Imagine someone taking the script & characters of "Leave it to Beaver" and filming it in vivid color with some cool music. That's the feeling I got while watching this movie. Sometimes it's hard to know if you're supposed to laugh with the characters or at them.

"True Stories" a satire of smalltown America, of course, including some extreme caricatures of humanity (sloth, dishonesty, materialism, imperialism, etc). But it's done with such a low-key presentation that it might pass you by without you noticing. This film is definitely a comedy, but there are no punchlines. Just a bizarre feeling that everything is a joke.

David Byrne (referred to only as "Our Visitor") strolls through the bizarre setting of Virgil, Texas, narrating various odd episodes with his signature soft, nerdy voice. Anyone else would've come across as sarcastic, but Byrne is so deadpan--like Leslie Nielsen 2 octaves higher--that we often wonder exactly what he's trying to say. If anything.

But the episodes speak for themselves. If you don't immediately catch the absurdness of the situations, the wacky visuals and blending of surrealism should be enough to tell you you're watching a quiet madhouse. Several sequences border on Terry Gilliam-esque genius while others aren't quite as effective. But either way, it's a memorable experience. John Goodman's lines & facial expressions are classic, guiding us through an otherwise perplexing experience.

It's hard to compare this to other films, but Byrne's directing style reminded me of early Tim Burton ("Edward Scissorhands", "Ed Wood") with his cheerful fantasy-sarcasm. Other times I was reminded of Vincent Gallo ("Buffalo 66") with the odd compositions and asymmetric shots. And in a weird way I was reminded of Godard's classic "Alphaville", the way the humor is so elusive that you hardly realize it's there.

Notable songs (lip synched by different characters in the movie) include "Wild Wild Life" at a showcase, "Dream Operator" at a bizarre fashion show at the mall, "Love for Sale" on TV (the regular video), "People Like Us" at a talent show, and the iconic "Radio Head" (which, yes, lent its name to the band) and a slew of other Talking Heads & David Byrne tunes. I confess I didn't recognize any except "Wild Wild Life" & "Radio Head", but I imagine if you're a Talking Heads fan you'll hear plenty to keep you groovin.

I wouldn't recommend this to casual moviegoers or casual Talking Heads fans, but if you like (artsy) movies and/or recognize most of the songs I named above, don't hesitate to check out this weird movie.

That's what he told me, at the end of the movie. The sophisticated New Yorker, the witty Kubrick fan with his degree in film, sat there stunned on the floor; I could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears.

To try and describe it is something like attempting to nail Jell-O to the wall. There's no plot, really; but there are a lot of things going on, threads of peoples' lives, loosely connected. The film describes itself as being "about a bunch of people in Virgil, Texas" and it is, but actually it's about the wonderful absurdity, lunacy even, of "normal" American life. David Byrne's Narrator character isn't condescending or snide. He's innocent, wondering, matter-of-fact. He looks at the cookie-cutter tract houses and asks, "Who can say it isn't beautiful?"

This is a very unique little movie, and people either seem to get it, or not. I can never predict who will or won't catch the humor. But, if you're not smiling by the end of the intro sequence, this probably isn't the movie for you. Personally, I was laughing my butt off by then. I can't say that this movie made me a better person, but it did add something to my world and gave me a great appreciation for the mind of David Byrne.