With a movie like Spinal Tap II: The End Continues, the 41-year-later sequel to This is Spinal Tap, the big question is why.
Is the idea, such as with the first one, to make fun of the conventions of rock star excess circa the late-1970s and early-80s, and of the documentaries about it? Or should the whole joke be that they’re old, and still trying to be rock stars? The film concentrates almost entirely on nostalgia and callbacks. That might’ve worked if the jokes were any good, but they’re not.
This is Spinal Tap came out in 1984, and was a landmark comedy that helped usher in the era of mockumentaries, many more of which were made, starting about a decade later, by co-star Christopher Guest, often with Harry Shearer and Michael McKean on board.
The three members of the titular heavy metal band were David St. Hubbins (McKean), Nigel Tuffnel (Guest), and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer.) Rob Reiner, the director, played Marty Di Bergi, the director of the faux documentary. The original film, which followed the band’s tour of the United States, was marked by a series of famous jokes—amps that “go to 11,” funny peccadillos and infighting, and a series of drummers who always die under horrific circumstances.
The movie was more than four decades ago, but Spinal Tap has been around, with concerts and albums over the years, and now the band is back together—the three band members, Reiner, and just about everyone from the original who’s still alive—for a sequel.
The End Continues has the band reuniting after a long period of estrangement, for a final concert in New Orleans, and a week or so of rehearsals leading up to it. It’s presented, once again, as a mockumentary, under the pretense that the first film was a real documentary about a real band. There are callbacks to the original, buried resentments resurfacing at the worst times, and a bunch of the old songs. The biggest problem is that it isn’t very funny. Like the first film, it was largely improvised, but apparently not as well this time. There are cameos by Paul McCartney and Elton John, and the film can’t find much funny for either of them to do. And that, I think, is where I feel like the movie left ideas on the table.
Shearer’s 81, while Guest and McKean are 77; the three of them look only slightly younger than Joe Biden. But it’s an undeniable fact of life that of the big rock acts today that are still touring and filling arenas, it’s shocking how many are on either side of 80, or beyond it. Bruce Springsteen is 75. McCartney and Paul Simon are 83. Mick Jagger and Keith Richards are 82 and 81. Bob Dylan is 84. Willie Nelson is 92.
Nelson and Dylan are touring together currently. The Who—led by 81-year-old Roger Daltrey and 80-year-old Pete Townshend—had to cancel a show in Philadelphia this summer for health reasons, as did Simon, also early this year. When rock stars are that age, all concert dates should be considered tentative. Shouldn’t that be the main joke in a Spinal Tap sequel when they’re all pushing 80?
It’s also the most inexplicable IMAX release in recent memory. Because when a movie is shot entirely in faux-documentary shaky-cam, it’s important to show it on the biggest screen possible.