This is Spinal Tap, directed by Rob Reiner, is the best narrative film about rock music and the industry in the final decades of the 20th century. Nothing else comes close, only real documentaries: The Decline of Western Civilization, Dont Look Back, 1991: The Year Punk Broke, Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, Let It Be (not Get Back). There are the handful of rock operas—The Wall, Tommy, Quadrophenia—and shooting star vehicles like Who’s That Girl?, Where the Boys Are, Crossroads, Purple Rain, and 8 Mile. These movies are the work of real musicians, part of their own narrative apparatus, and there was a necessarily low ceiling on their self-awareness; This is Spinal Tap could be as detailed and cutting as it was because its stars were real musicians and fake bandmates in a fake band that could absolutely be real.
There’s no other movie that remains a constant on rock tour buses. Even now, with a recent 4K restoration by the Criterion Collection, This is Spinal Tap remains the definitive statement on hard rock histrionics and music industry morons. That Reiner would put such little effort into a sequel isn’t that surprising: it’s been 40 years, none of them are young, and even people working in the music industry don’t know what to make fun of anymore. Can you make fun of something that isn’t there? Spinal Tap II: The End Continues features one mention of “streaming,” and it’s not even in the context of a joke. Spinal Tap II is as out of touch as the original is on target: you spend most of the movie watching the band (Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer) sitting around, whether it’s in anonymous offices or slightly less generic studio and stadium settings.
Spinal Tap II is watchable because even the image of those guys, in their 70s, sitting in that heavy metal gear, all droopy, is funny enough to sustain an otherwise inexcusably lazy movie. There are two good jokes: before reuniting with the band, McKean’s character has recorded podcast sound effects and call-waiting music; he plays one piece and mentions, “This one won a Holdie.” Later, when the band is staying and working in a possibly haunted house, one of them says, “It’s different during the daytime, ghosts are just rumors.” Other than that, the film is a collection of clichés and failed attempts at satire that would’ve been dated pre-Spotify. The few new additions are a mixed bag: the new drummer (Valerie Franco) is winning, while the sleazebag manager (Chris Addison) is totally prefab. Kerry Godliman is better as the band’s new manager, replacing her late father (Tony Hendra in the original; died 2021).
The members of Spinal Tap could’ve written this plot: after a fractious 15-year hiatus, the band gets back together for one last show. Whatever “differences” they had are buried in bad jokes, and the movie quickly gets the three of them back in rooms together. Like I said, they’re funny enough on their own that they can carry an otherwise lackluster 84-minute movie, and while you may ask “what’s the point?”, I say why not? They’re all still kicking and it bears repeating, it’s extremely funny seeing these guys in this makeup and leather at their age. They look like Spinal Tap showing up for an audition of a biopic of their own, and this is what prevents you from getting angry at Reiner and Guest and everyone else for caring so little. It may have bombed in its opening weekend (distributor Bleecker Street dumped the movie with no effort), but it’ll keep royalty checks coming for years on streaming and other ancillary income sources on the name alone.
Guest has no plans to direct ever again. The man behind A Mighty Wind, Best in Show, For Your Consideration, and Waiting for Guffman recently told Rolling Stone, “I go hiking, walk in rivers, and ski. I do all that and play music every single day. I have this life, and I thought, ‘You know, I think I really like this.’ … I don’t have an idea for a movie, and maybe I never will. I don’t know.” Guest, 77, may have one more left in him; I hope he reconsiders eventually, because while it’s tolerable, Spinal Tap II is no way to go out on screen.
—Follow Nicky Otis Smith on Twitter: @NickyOtisSmith