The Distancer: Tuesday, April 14, 2020
DAY 33: Stop Making Sense
Happy Tuesday, friends!
Cardio in social distancing be like...
For those of us fortunate enough to still be on the clock at a job, I thought this Harvard Business Review article about what your coworkers need right now was a particularly good read.
I've tried my best to lift up and elevate the concerns of marginalized people with this newsletter where I can, and I'm asking once again to keep them top of mind given how this virus is playing out. If you're looking for ways to help these groups out, Forbes put together this *amazing* guide that pools a lot of charities devoted to helping them out. It's a real "choose your own adventure" for how to mindfully contribute to the full community.
Now, what you came for...
(Past suggestions archived on Letterboxd)
DAY 33: Stop Making Sense (available on Amazon Prime)
With some experts saying we might have to wait until fall 2021 for events like live music to resume, we're going to have to start finding more novel ways to fill that void in our lives. Might I suggest the wide world of concert films? A film can never replace the experience of live music, but a great film maker can approximate it in intriguing ways. Case in point: Jonathan Demme's Stop Making Sense, which captures the unique charms of David Byrne and the Talking Heads.
I can't say I was a *huge* fan of the group before watching (I had one song of theirs in my Spotify "starred" playlist thanks to its appearance on the 20th Century Women soundtrack, unsurprisingly), but since this is widely considered among the best concert docs of all time, I was willing to give it a chance. Conventional wisdom here was wonderfully correct! I found myself both totally engaged by the music itself and drawn in by how Demme, who would later go on to win an Oscar for directing The Silence of the Lambs, visualized their peculiar energy and vibe.
Stop Making Sense starts out almost like a deconstruction of a concert as David Byrne emerges with just a boom box and a guitar and plays “Psycho Killer.” It’s so lo-fi that you might honestly think you’re being Punk’d. Then, one by one, the rest or the Talking Heads begin to join him on stage with each passing number. Gradually, the set comes together just as the band itself is. Before you know it, the band and the audience (and maybe even you?) are rocking.
Maybe you’ll find some new jams here. Maybe you’ll deepen your appreciation of the art of live performance. Or maybe you’ll just have some visually stimulating background music for your workday. Either way, it’s a great time to dive into the pleasures of this decades-old classic.
Be good to yourselves and to each other,
Marshall
P.S. - I've strayed away from recommending Criterion Channel films since I know the adoption rate of the platform is a little low, but if you love concert films, D.A. Pennebaker's Monterey Pop is absolutely outstanding. The way he shoots Otis Redding's performance is nothing short of transcendent.