Dir. Sacha Gervasi, US, 2008, 81 mins
Cast: Steve 'Lips' Kudlow, Robb Reiner
Review by Richard Mellor
Watching Anvil the band in Anvil the movie is much like following your mate's group. You hope desperately for their success, but all the while you're nursing a nagging, treacherous feeling that they're not really good enough. It's the well-wishing though, rather than the pessimism, that makes Sacha Gervasi's documentary such an involving watch. Its protagonists are so appealing that you become as thrilled by Anvil's occasional successes as the musicians themselves, just like the curio-like few devotees that still sing their songs.
Q: Anvil? Anvil? Who the f*** are Anvil? A: a washed-up Canadian metal act, briefly famous 25+ years ago and still dreaming of returning to the big time. In 1982 Anvil were as well thought-of as Megadeth and Slayer, but after a few bum albums they fell off the radar, never to be heard of again. Yet as Gervasi discovers, the group are still playing, still recording and still convinced of their worth. His film details the ups and downs of several months in the life of Anvil, with a haphazard European 'tour' and the production of a latest album.
Anvil's two mainstays and founding members are lead singer Steve 'Lips' Kudlow and drummer Robb Reiner. Where Lips is eternally optimistic and emotional, Robb is stonier and more philosophical. They've both been forced into humdrum day jobs to pay the bills - Lips is a children's caterer, and Robb a builder. They both have families and astonishingly supportive wives. And they both firmly refuse to budge in their belief that Anvil can regain its former glories and once again play hits like 'Butter-Bust Jerky' to millions.
Their big tour ought to tell them differently: a careering sequence of disasters organised by inexperienced manager Tiziana is wildly amusing stuff to watch. They miss trains, play to a mere handful of people and fail to get paid. The final show – at the feted Monsters of Transylvania festival and reputed to be in front of 5,000 fans – is so ill-attended that Lips' haemorrhoids pop out. These are Pythonesque moments of total farce, ‘mock-n-roll' on a par with This is Spinal Tap. For a brief moment Anvil is more mockumentary than sober documentary.
Our attempts to keep a straight face are further hindered by excerpts of interviews with Lips and Reiner. Cinema hasn't seen such a pair of uncool, ill-groomed 80s' relics since Walter and the Dude ten-pinned off into the sunset at the end of The Big Lebowski . Lips speaks like a 15-year-old surfer boy, with virtually every clause ending in 'man', while Reiner's sentences meander casually down linguistic cul-de-sacs. They're obvious fall guys and you feel bad for giggling at them, but for a while this is irresistible comedy. Only for a while though, as a marked change of tone occurs, when the boys fly to England to record the new record.
The trip has been sponsored by Lips' sister in an act of stunning kindness and support. Lips and Reiner row, row some more and eventually make up, and Gervasi's drama turns sober as it becomes obvious now just how much Anvil means to these two men. It's their entire life and all their beliefs and hopes are invested in this dream they so doggedly pursue. They might be dinosaurs with curiously long hair and goofy grins, but boy do they have pride and a humbling faith.
More comic moments follow - the stand-out being Lips' abortive career in telesales - as do further tender scenes. Tragic sections are thrown in, borne on the naïve optimism of Lips & co, and the cruel fruitlessness of their life's efforts. And there's a thankful sprinkling good news too, just reward for our new heroes and their noble creditors. In this rockumentary rollercoaster, Gervasi skilfully balances happiness, heart and humour with the down side. Despite his having previously been a roadie for Anvil, his film is bravely neutral, with the band's failings left just as obvious as their positive qualities.
Ultimately, Anvil is a film about so much more than the experiences of a rock group. None of the glamorous excess of The Doors here, or the pretty dreaminess of Almost Famous. Instead, here is life itself: the sacrifices people make for their loved ones; the pursuit of dreams; the coping with setbacks; and contentment at one's place in the world. Big topics, granted, but ones fully epitomised in this doughty little band.
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