Great rock concert films are few and far between. The rock concert film style usually consists of bad sound, lousy cinematography and sub-par performances of old favorites. But sometimes rock concert films come along that rise above the murk and mire -- Rust Never Sleeps, The Last Waltz, The Other Side of the Mirror. And perhaps the best of the lot, Jonathan Demme's stylish, energetic, and electric concert film, Stop Making Sense, with the alt rock group Talking Heads (David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison -- greatly augmented with a churnin' urn of burnin' funk consisting of singers Edna Holt and Lynn Mabry, Bernie Worrell, Steve Scales, and Alex Weir).

A Talking Heads fan -- or any rock music fan for that matter -- couldn't ask for anything more. The film remains the standard of what a rock concert film should be. Shot over four nights at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood in 1983 during the Talking Heads tour with their expanded band, the charged intensity of the performance has yet to be surpassed on film. The Talking Heads burn down the house with not only their own "Burning Down the House" but with propulsive explosions of their back catalogue like "Psycho Killer," "Heaven," "Life During Wartime," "Swamp," "What a Day That Was." and "Once In a Lifetime." These are songs that actually make 1980s rock music look good. But the film is much more than a film record of a great rock performance.

Perhaps the reason for the success of the film resides with Demme's conception of it. Demme enlists an "implied narrative" for the Byrne "character" by laying bare the concert with minimal staging, the band members gradually introduced one by one as each song progresses -- and, mercifully, no audience reaction shots until the end of the concert. By doing this, Demme centers the film upon the performance and Byrne, up to the task, his unblinking Buster Keaton eyes betraying an undercurrent of a frantic dancing style like a cross between Bill Irwin and Devo.

Byrne has commented about Demme turning his performance into a characterization: "My character takes a kind of journey on this thing. He starts off as Mr. White Guy and does his very best to get down and get loose by the end of the show and kind of shed his inhibitions and get loose. And he kinda does. By the last song... he completely gives up and let go and he's free. Or at least he's lost himself inside the music and so he's... changed as a person. Just what would happen in a regular movie with a regular story."

But conception means nothing without an effective performance and here Byrne is charismatic, driving, super-charged, and kinetic. He tears up the screen. If you aren't sweating and dancing by the time Byrne reemerges toward the end for "Girlfriend Is Better" and Al Green's rousing "Take Me to the River" you must be dead.

Demme not only structures the film as a character-driven narrative, he employs a barrage of narrative film techniques that place Stop Making Sense beyond most cheap, shoddy, quick-buck concert film abominations. Aside from restricting audience reaction shots, Demme settles for long shots and slow tracks into the performers and (God bless him) no phony zooms. Also aiding and abetting the quality of the production is cinematographer Jordan Cronenweth (Blade Runner) who achieves a sharp, realistic image for the Talking Heads that does not distract from the performers.

Stop Making Sense became a plateau for the Talking Heads that they would not reach again, the film marking the apex of their performing career. The group regrouped for a few more albums after Stop Making Sense but this was their creative end. But what a creative end. The film is alive, vibrant, and after 25 years, it still cooks.

The Blu-ray release includes two additional songs, a press conference with the full band from 1999, commentary track, and storyboards.



We found him living in a shotgun shack.