Sometimes it simply helps to be in the right place in the right time, with the right hand dealt to you by the hands of fate. For Steve "Lips" Kudlow and Robb Reiner, founding members of highly influential and significant heavy metal band Anvil, luck—or fate, it would seem—would be a tide that they would have to swim against for the better part of thirty years. Starting off at the top in their twenties with the big names of the genre, Anvil were amongst the forerunners of the hard rock and heavy metal explosion that would take place in the early eighties. And yet when bands like Metallica and Slayer were selling out stadiums, Anvil would more than likely be around the corner playing in a bar to ten or twenty people. Of course, there are numerous theories as to why this seemingly cruel and bitter injustice played out the way that it so silently did, but if there's one thing that the The Story of Anvil does is that it expels any doubt as to the heart and soul that have kept these guys swimming against the tide working against them all those years.
Like this year's The Wrestler, Anvil is a movie that strives to shine light on hidden corners of an industry and expose the truth behind the cogs and wheels that power the well-oiled and shiny machine we as consumers invest in each and every day. It's a document to rigorous commitment and to human spirit; even if watching the feature is somewhat soul-crushing in its deconstruction of the infamous "you can do what you set your heart to" mantra. There's no denying that Steve and Robb's plight is as equally uplifting as it is depressing, but in truth life is usually just like that. When discussing a rockumentary akin to The Story of Anvil, it can be hard to resist drawing parallels between it and the scripted comedy Spinal Tap, but aside from the few coincidental references here and there, Anvil is a much more realistic, human and grounded look inside the green room of a hard working rock band. In fact if there is one glaring disconnection between Anvil and the classic rockumentary it's that there is virtually no laughs to be found here—Gervasi's story is brimming with a grey shade of disillusion and bitterness that overwhelms all other shades that the band try to convey in their passion.
To this degree, the film too often offers an experience that certainly isn't pleasant to watch but nevertheless feels tangible and focused on the central themes at hand. The history of the band is one tinged with disappointment, missed opportunities and skewed injustices at the hands of fate. Yet it was Jack Kerouac who more or less coined the Circle of Despair theory (something that would play a prominent role in his most famous work On the Road) that in summary lays out life as a series of deflections or disappointing twists of fate. Throughout the course of our lives, there lies a series of derailments and changes in direction brought on by failure that sets our initial goals off into the distant horizon, but also opens up new doors for a whole other adventure. For Kerouac, the silver lining would be his vast adventures through the states of America with his best friend; for the founding members of Anvil, the result is startlingly very much the same. Perhaps the most potent and engaging of all the scenes on display throughout the concise runtime of Anvil's story is something that only ties in rudimentarily to the central struggle at hand for singer Kudlow. Needing money to record the band's 13th album with a big-name producer, Steve's older sister eventually comes through for him after his own attempts fall through. Not only is perhaps the most touching moment in the movie, but it also drives home this central idea of bittersweet blessing; for "Lips", he may not have riches, fame and glory, but he has the support some people could only dream of.
And that, in essence, is the true core and centrally compelling aspect of The Story of Anvil that makes it the experience that it is. Yes, there are more than enough moments of sadness, anger, heartbreak and startling revelations regarding how belittled these people have become over the years—but it is through these moments with friends, family and band-mates that Anvil comes full circle and becomes more than just a rockumentary. In a sense, Gervasi's directorial debut is less about the music and rock and roll sensibility as it is about the spirit, soul, heart and balls that often drive bands into the former glories. For Anvil however, life has simply never given them their just rights, dues or rewards that they do plainly deserve—and yet even if this rockumentary of sorts ends up being their ultimate statement, in a way, it does more for them than any millions or record sales could ever do. It may not be a perfect theatrical documentary, but it's got heart and sentiment that goes beyond most similar outputs. For fans of heavy metal or rock and roll, or for anyone who is more than familiar with the hardships of trying to "make it", The Story of Anvil will be like watching a home movie that feels potent and true to reality. Yet even if this isn't your thing, Gervasi paints a portrait here that can be related to by just about anyone left unfulfilled and conflicted by their ambitions and dreams against the crushing blows of that very same reality. It's not pretty, no, but it's real and its life manifest; so turn it up to eleven and forget about it, even if it's only for an hour.
Like this year's The Wrestler, Anvil is a movie that strives to shine light on hidden corners of an industry and expose the truth behind the cogs and wheels that power the well-oiled and shiny machine we as consumers invest in each and every day. It's a document to rigorous commitment and to human spirit; even if watching the feature is somewhat soul-crushing in its deconstruction of the infamous "you can do what you set your heart to" mantra. There's no denying that Steve and Robb's plight is as equally uplifting as it is depressing, but in truth life is usually just like that. When discussing a rockumentary akin to The Story of Anvil, it can be hard to resist drawing parallels between it and the scripted comedy Spinal Tap, but aside from the few coincidental references here and there, Anvil is a much more realistic, human and grounded look inside the green room of a hard working rock band. In fact if there is one glaring disconnection between Anvil and the classic rockumentary it's that there is virtually no laughs to be found here—Gervasi's story is brimming with a grey shade of disillusion and bitterness that overwhelms all other shades that the band try to convey in their passion.
To this degree, the film too often offers an experience that certainly isn't pleasant to watch but nevertheless feels tangible and focused on the central themes at hand. The history of the band is one tinged with disappointment, missed opportunities and skewed injustices at the hands of fate. Yet it was Jack Kerouac who more or less coined the Circle of Despair theory (something that would play a prominent role in his most famous work On the Road) that in summary lays out life as a series of deflections or disappointing twists of fate. Throughout the course of our lives, there lies a series of derailments and changes in direction brought on by failure that sets our initial goals off into the distant horizon, but also opens up new doors for a whole other adventure. For Kerouac, the silver lining would be his vast adventures through the states of America with his best friend; for the founding members of Anvil, the result is startlingly very much the same. Perhaps the most potent and engaging of all the scenes on display throughout the concise runtime of Anvil's story is something that only ties in rudimentarily to the central struggle at hand for singer Kudlow. Needing money to record the band's 13th album with a big-name producer, Steve's older sister eventually comes through for him after his own attempts fall through. Not only is perhaps the most touching moment in the movie, but it also drives home this central idea of bittersweet blessing; for "Lips", he may not have riches, fame and glory, but he has the support some people could only dream of.
And that, in essence, is the true core and centrally compelling aspect of The Story of Anvil that makes it the experience that it is. Yes, there are more than enough moments of sadness, anger, heartbreak and startling revelations regarding how belittled these people have become over the years—but it is through these moments with friends, family and band-mates that Anvil comes full circle and becomes more than just a rockumentary. In a sense, Gervasi's directorial debut is less about the music and rock and roll sensibility as it is about the spirit, soul, heart and balls that often drive bands into the former glories. For Anvil however, life has simply never given them their just rights, dues or rewards that they do plainly deserve—and yet even if this rockumentary of sorts ends up being their ultimate statement, in a way, it does more for them than any millions or record sales could ever do. It may not be a perfect theatrical documentary, but it's got heart and sentiment that goes beyond most similar outputs. For fans of heavy metal or rock and roll, or for anyone who is more than familiar with the hardships of trying to "make it", The Story of Anvil will be like watching a home movie that feels potent and true to reality. Yet even if this isn't your thing, Gervasi paints a portrait here that can be related to by just about anyone left unfulfilled and conflicted by their ambitions and dreams against the crushing blows of that very same reality. It's not pretty, no, but it's real and its life manifest; so turn it up to eleven and forget about it, even if it's only for an hour.
- A review by Jamie Robert Ward (http://www.invocus.net)