Imagine a real-life This is Spinal Tap! and you’ll have a fertile starting ground to tackle the rock documentary, Anvil! The Story of Anvil. There are so many unintentional references to that landmark mockumentary that you’ll be forgiven for suspecting that Anvil is fake. They even have music knobs that go to eleven! You see, Anvil played with other rock and roll headliners like The Scorpions, White Snake, and Bon Jovi in 1984. They were on the cusp of fame and stardom and then… it just didn’t happen. Flash forward, and the Anvil band members are still playing together and fighting for the fame that has eluded them for over 25 years. Singer/lead guitarist Steve “Lips” Kudlow lives in his native Canada and delivers lunches to school cafeterias. Drummer Rob Reiner (absolutely no relation to the director of Spinal Tap) works meager construction jobs. They both have wives and children, but they haven?t put their dreams on hold and know the fame they deserve is just one more opportunity away.

The band is not without its fans, and one of them is Tiziana Arrigoni, a Swedish woman who loves heavy metal and books Anvil an ill-fated tour of gigs throughout Eastern Europe. And just like Spinal Tap, everything that can go wrong generally does go wrong. The band misses several trains. The clubs they play are small, mostly attracting a handful of die-hard fans and drunks. They get lost in Prague and arrive two hours late to their gig. The club owner refuses to pay the band, instead offering them plates of goulash for their payment. The deepest cut is when the band is booked for the “Monsters of Transylvania” show in Romania at a venue that can seat 10,000. Lips even marvels that, “The mayor of Transylvania is gonna be there!” Only 175 attend the event (it is unclear whether or not the mayor was in attendance). The hapless Tiziana breaks down and cries, “I try,” and you honestly believe her; what kind of European venues should a Canadian metal band 25 years past their prime be playing? I can’t imagine anyone else with no managing experience could do better given the circumstances. Lips seems to see the same silver lining: “Everything on the tour went drastically wrong. But at least there was a tour for it to go wrong on.”

This section of the movie ends at about the half-hour mark and I was left wondering what would be next. Then I understood the smarts of director Sacha Gervasi as a filmmaker because by watching Anvil endure the inequities of failure and humiliation early on, the audience will quickly sympathize with these rock dinosaurs. They fight for their dreams and surely they deserve better, and you will be on their side. This isn’t a spoof or a self-conscious skewering of a bunch of over-the-hill hasbeens. You feel for these guys, and the film offers several moments of surprising poignancy as they struggle to make ends meet, labor in dead-end jobs, and spend time with their loving families doing simple things like eating a pizza. Both Lips and Reiner are described as great family men, though one wonders what kinds of life moments they have missed out chasing fame. Don’t feel too bad for Tiziana either; she ends up marrying the band’s bassist. Their wedding reception is the greatest comic moment in the movie. Anvil rocks out at the reception and the disinterested audience looks like they are being held captive.

It’s the relationship between Lips and Reiner that gives the movie its heart. These aren’t the most self-aware subjects and are given to outlandish statements, but they’re just so overwhelmingly positive in the face of relentless adversity. He walks into various record company offices and hand delivers the newest Anvil album, hoping to get his calls returned eventually. In Canada, Lips and Reiner meet with an A&R man for EMI, and it is painful to watch. The A&R guy takes notes like a secretive psychiatrist and then he shuts off the music after no more than seconds. He tells the Anvil guys that if EMI doesn’t feel like it can give the band what they deserve then they won’t go forward with any album release. He’s brushing them off and making it sound like he’s doing them a favor. And yet Lips keeps chugging along like the little engine that could because he has to. The band mates look to him for inspiration. Often a band’s relationship is compared to a marriage, and this seems appropriate for Lips and Reiner. They’ve been friends since high school, stuck together through thick and thin, and their brotherhood is undeniably touching. Lips talks about the intense pressure he endures and how he feels like leaping off a cliff sometimes. Reiner, right there by Lips’ side, adds, “Well, you won’t jump off the cliff because I’ll stop you,” and then he just beams with pride in their friendship. Lips looks over and he too gets choked up. It’s a genuinely heartfelt moment and encapsulates the emotion mined in the film.

The family members seem to politely go along with the boys? wishes, especially the wives who say in revealing interviews that they too have put their lives on hold for their husband’s ambitions. In one scene, Lips’ sister agrees to loan her baby brother the money to record another Anvil album. She starts to cry on camera and we’re left with the quiet contemplation over what she may be so tearful about. Does she feel joy helping her brother continue on his quest, giving him another jolt of life and a reason to live for, or does she feel guilt and resignation knowing that she is enabling a comeback that is never going to happen, only delaying her brother’s cruel return back to reality. The Anvil boys do have patient and mostly supportive family members, though Reiner’s sister likes to get in easy digs here and there, calling Anvil a “joke.” At one point, Reiner’s wife rebuts the oft-repeated claim that these middle-aged headbangers need to “give up and get a real job” by being candidly self-reflective, talking about her own desire to touch fame through her husband’s achievements, and that she too dreams as much as her husband. It’s a nice moment and an insightful peak into the family lives of rock musicians.

If Anvil has one obvious flaw it’s that Gervasi turns the film into a valentine to his favorite band from his youth. The movie ends on a 1985 picture of Gervasi with Lips, and apparently the director also served as a roadie on one of the band’s mid 80s Canadian tours, so I understand his enthusiasm for a subject near and dear to his heart, but his movie also forgoes any real criticism of the band. There is conflict that goes unexplored. Why didn’t the band actually make it? The movie seems to excuse the band from any blame, although perhaps writing rock songs without a hook might have doomed their radio play. They were skilled musically but can their decline into obscurity all be chalked up to fate and bad management? When the band records their thirteenth album, the “comeback” album, why do they even bother going after major labels? Why do they not go to a niche label, a label that specifically markets to heavy metal fans, the only people who may still acknowledge the demand for another Anvil album? Why, in today’s technologically evolving music market, are these guys not selling the album themselves and online, like what Radiohead did in 2007 for their album, In Rainbows? We see in interviews that notable rock musicians from Metallica and Anthrax admired Anvil, so why didn’t any of them help out when the band was falling apart? What is at the heart of the pain between Lips and Reiner? I’m pleased that Gervasi didn’t lambaste his teenage idols but his movie also could have benefited from further inquiry. He may be too close to the topic to make Anvil a seminal music industry documentary, but Gervasi does keep the movie engaging and, like Lips himself, keeps the darkness at bay no matter the situation.

Anvil! The Story of Anvil is an entertaining documentary that manages to be funny, sad, touching, and inspirational. It doesn’t dig too deep but then again you?re kind of pleased just to be along for the ride and explore these aging musicians? family lives. I don’t consider it a spoiler to say that the men of Anvil get some well-earned recognition by the end of the movie, coming full circle from that 1984 Japanese rock festival. You don?t have to be a fan of metal music whatsoever to enjoy this movie; in fact, the film curiously never plays a full song from the band. Anvil is an enjoyable labor of love for Gervasi, and it’s hard not to fall under the same nostalgic spell.

Nate’s Grade: B

Old people and rock and roll seem like contradictory terms. It’s easier to imagine a 70-something grandma listening to the soothing tunes of Lawrence Welk or the Andrews Sisters than the likes of Sonic Youth and The Clash. Young @ Heart is a documentary that follows a unique chorus made completely of senior citizens (the youngest member is 72) who travel the country singing contemporary rock songs. Now, bear witness to great-grandmothers rocking at a reasonable hour and partying on days where they take their meds.

Once old people reach a certain aged age they fall into the same category as children, and by that I mean you can position them to do anything out of the ordinary and it suddenly becomes adorable. Seeing a baby wear a top hat? Cute. Seeing an old person dance to a modern rock song? Cute. I don’t make the rules, folks, but the end of life and the beginning of life have much in common, which includes the universal appeal of young and old doing things unlikely for their age. So, yes, Young @ Heart has a steady supply of adorable moments, especially as you watch how joyous many of the members are when they practice. Many members of the chorus have severe medical ailments and profess that participating and singing has medicinal benefits. They feel young and energized, and sometimes the members will defy doctor’s orders to attend. It is clear how much singing can mean to these people, and watching them come alive is undeniably heartwarming, but it’s downright moving when the Young at Heart chorus branch out. They perform at a prison and literally bring incarcerated prisoners to tears. I’ll admit that I was fighting back tears myself during the stirring performance of Coldplay’s “Fix You,” which is given a somewhat profound new meaning. The lyrics, “Lights will guide you home,” and “When you lose someone you can’t replace,” are given more relevance when sung by octogenarians who have all experienced recent loss amongst their ranks.

With such a naturally intriguing premise, it’s a shame then that director Stephen Walker doesn’t do more with the material. In many ways, Young @ Heart is a rather ordinary documentary that forgoes several opportunities to dig deeper. The interviews are rather basic and rarely penetrating, and the narrative structure of practicing for the big show means that the concluding fifteen minutes will be locked into being the performance. Walker narrates the movie and often inserts himself into the film because it seems like he wants to be part of the fun. Documentaries can succeed from objective and subjective point of views, but I get frustrated when people like Walker don’t want to merely tell the story but piggyback so they are part of the story. It smacks me of narcissism.

I think there was a stronger dramatic dynamic with Young @ Heart than what Walker captures, and I think he misses this because he had lowered ambitions for the film simply to document the seven-week period of practice. Every now and then you’ll discover a moment that points to what Young @ Heart had the potential to become, but Walker’s intention is more along the lines at gushing at what geezers can do. I get that Walker feels affection for his subjects but couldn’t he have gone further than the old-people-sing-young-people-songs gimmick? Some times the film feels like it has as much depth as a prototypical behind-the-scenes featurette on a DVD.

Walker evenly divides the film between performances and interviews and he also doesn’t overdose on the pathos even after deaths hit the Young at Heart clan. The movie has several music videos where the old folks sing to songs like “Golden Years,” “I Wanna Be Sedated,” and “Stayin’ Alive.” As you can see, each song is given something of a twist. However, the music videos come across as cheesy and unnecessary since seeing the performers live would be more interesting and real. Including several music videos, of songs that we never see the chorus practice no less, seems like wasted time that could have been spent getting to know our cast of characters better. I’d rather better know them as people than laugh and giggle at them performing The Bee Gees at a bowling alley.

There are some chorus members that separate from the pack like 92-year-old Eileen Hall who used to be a burlesque dancer many moons ago. She’s the oldest in the film and yet in many ways has the most indomitable spirit, frequently cracking jokes and making suggestive statements that Walker deems to be “flirting.” Fred Knittle is a man who was told he’d have two years to live after suffering his latest heart attack. By the time he rejoins the chorus he’s at two years and four months and running. He ably steps into the solo spot to sing “Fix You” after the original singer passes away. The moment is so pure and emotional that it reminds you about the power of music in a non-saccharine way. One of the more interesting figures in the film is Bob Cilman, the music director of the Young at Heart chorus. Here is a man in his 50s teaching contemporary rock songs to the elderly, and yet the film never explores this man and his infinite patience. What are his reasons for doing the Young at Heart chorus? What does he think about his own life’s purpose? The movie would have strongly benefited by spending more time exploring the life of this man and his unique mission. I want to know what makes him tick.

My faults with the film do not fall upon the subjects. This batch of senior citizen rockers is a delightful group and watching them perform can be entertaining and occasionally inspiring. However, I cannot fully recommend it because its scope and interests are far too narrow given the subject matter. Director Walker would rather treat his senior subjects like they were posing for a calendar in adorable poses, and I’m glad he has such warm affection for these lively octogenarians. But his affection clouds his filmmaking judgment and Walker ignores plenty of palpable drama. The concluding concert will certainly produce smiles and some toe tapping, but this drama could have been so much more. I can honestly say that, beyond the communal experience, there is no reason to catch this movie in a theater. It will play the same on your TV screen. If only Walker had listened a little harder to his older subjects then maybe he would have realized that true wisdom does not come merely from a cute gimmick.

Nate’s Grade: C+