“Stop Making Sense” Review
Released in 1984, “Stop Making Sense” captures the brilliant performances of the rock band Talking Heads on their 1983 tour. In 2023, A24 bought the distribution rights to the film and rereleased it in cinemas.
With the upcoming, exclusively theatrical, release of Taylor Swift’s much anticipated concert film “The Eras Tour,” it’s remarkable how few concert films are getting the theatrical distribution they deserve. While artists like Beyoncé, Billie Eillish and Bruce Springsteen have recently offered their own contributions to the documentary subgenre, they’ve been streaming affairs only. Watching a concert film in a theater is a different experience entirely. With the right cinematography and sound design, seeing a concert film on a big screen can make you feel like you’re really there watching your favorite artists performing before an audience.
In our current age, where companies like Ticketmaster take a masochistic joy out of bleeding us dry, this kind of experience for $20 per ticket is sorely needed. But in the history of this subgenre one particular film is almost always classified as the best one and, nearly forty years after its original release, it’s arrived in theaters for us to enjoy once again. Remastered for IMAX screens by A24, “Stop Making Sense,” the iconic film starring the band Talking Heads, is truly a masterpiece of live music and documentary filmmaking that must be seen in a theater while wearing the most oversized suit you can find.
In 1983, Talking Heads (composed of guitarist and lead vocalist David Byrne, percussionist Chris Frantz, bassist Tina Weymouth and keyboardist Jerry Harrison) were one of the most desired acts in music. Part of their appeal came from how eclectic and unique their sound was. The band had influences ranging from pop to disco to punk which all came together with a surreal edge that was artsy enough for the avant garde crowd but also appealed to the mainstream MTV generation. Their biggest hits like “Life During Wartime,” “Psycho Killer” and “Burning Down the House” have become so steeped into our cultural psyche that you can listen to these songs, not know who the band is and still recognize them.
After releasing their fifth album, “Speaking in Tongues,” the group went on tour to promote the record, only they wanted these performances to be different. Talking Heads already had a reputation for their concerts and music videos being energized affairs featuring surreal imagery. To go bigger, this tour would be captured on glorious 35 mm film to be made into a cinematic document of the band at the height of their power. This wouldn’t just be a bloated music video to be shown as a special on MTV, it would be a nationwide concert at the local theater.
Capturing the natural talent of this group could not have been easy nor could representing their strange and endearing artistic style. Thankfully, the film was manned by someone who proved he could handle the dramatic and the bizarre: Jonathan Demme. Before he went on to make acclaimed films like “Philadelphia” and “Silence of the Lambs,” the latter film would win him an Oscar for Best Director, Demme made this film following a retreat from Hollywood after his latest film, “Swing Shift,” flopped. The incredible images Demme captured for “Stop Making Sense” are the stuff of rock legend. As great as the music videos of Talking Heads are, this film adds this epic spectacle to the group that stirs up this wave of emotional joy. After a few songs, I forgot I was even watching a film and just felt like I was back in 1983.
While capturing an entire concert on 35mm film would be close to impossible, given the time needed to change film reels and the overheating that can occur through continuous use, Demme had a distinct advantage. During the 1983 tour, Talking Heads gave four performances from December 13 to December 16 at the Pantages Theater in Los Angeles and, by wearing the same clothing each night, different shots from different nights could be edited together to create a seamless film which felt like one concert. While there are some clues that this film was made using different performances (I swear, I saw a beach ball magically vanish between shots at one point), it’s really hard to tell.
Because of this directing strategy, each night could be used to capture different kinds of shots with one night being wide shots and others being used for closer and closer shots. With Jordan Cronenworth (who served as the cinematographer on films like “Peggy Sue Got Married” and “Blade Runner”) behind the camera, he’s able to marry the unpredictability of handheld documentary filmmaking with smooth sweeping shots that feel more planned and cinematic.
Lisa Day’s editing also deserves much praise. With all of this footage, her cuts feel punchy and keep the mood perfect for each song. When “Life During Wartime” is being played and the song becomes more subdued, the way Day cuts back and forth between David Byrne and Chris Frantz is chilling in how cool it is. “Stop Making Sense” feels so kinetic and weirdly paced. While only 88 minutes in length, you feel that time has bizarrely gone by quickly and slowly at the same time. You feel the rush of the short schedule and the performance but you also feel wiped out, like the energy of the band has transferred to you and it’s physically exhausting.
While the talent behind the filming of “Stop Making Sense” produced one of the best concert films of all time, it’s truly the musicians on stage that command this film. Not only are these songs wonderful, but the order in which they’re presented is perfect. While there are the bursts of energy that are broken up with the slower tracks, the way the film begins is unexpected yet fantastic. Instead of the band coming out on stage all together, only David Byrne walks out with an acoustic guitar. The stage isn’t even finished with no other instruments in sight.
Byrne gets a boombox and “plays a tape” (a drum machine was playing the rhythm from offstage) before laughing into “Psycho Killer.” Then Tina Weymouth appears to play a duet of “Heaven.” Then Chris Frantz makes it a trio by playing the drums on “Thank You For Sending Me an Angel.” Then Jerry Harrison completes the band by playing guitar on “Found a Job.” More equipment gets wheeled out by the crew with each song and it’s not until “Burning Down the House,” the sixth song in the setlist, that the entire band is together with their additional musicians (keyboardist Bernie Worrell, guitarist Alex Weir, percussionist Steve Scales and back-up singers Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt). This slow buildup not only guides the viewer into this strange land of rock-and-roll but it also gives us the chance to get a strong sense of each musician and what they bring.
Not only are these songs iconic, but their execution on the stage is some of the finest showmanship ever seen in rock history. The sheer physicality of the group is enough to make the most staunch exercise enthusiast drop with everyone on stage in constant motion and in harmony with each other. At certain points during the show, Jerry Harrsion, David Byrne and Alex Weir are all playing guitar and moving with such beautiful unity. Whether it was through strong rehearsals, intuition or a mix of both, watching “Stop Making Sense” is enough to make you want to run as fast and as frantically as you can.
Strong performances like Tina Weymouth’s on “Genius of Love” show just how commanding all members of Talking Heads were when they got on a stage.
David Byrne obviously gets a lot of attention for his presence with both the playful swaying in “Life During Wartime” and his movements in an oversized suit during “Girlfriend Is Better” becoming iconic imagery separate from the film. But every musician on that stage must have sweat gallons due to all their movement. During one song called “Genius of Love,” a song by Talking Heads’ side project the Tom-Tom Club (founded by husband-and-wife Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz), Weymouth is front and center and the dancing she does with Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt is one of the most remarkable things I’ve seen on a stage, especially when you realize that Weymouth has to keep the funky rhythm on bass.
Along with surreal images like having the band be lit by just one crew member with a portable light, seeing David Bryne practically dance with a lamp, the projections behind the group and all the costume changes, the visual vocabulary of “Stop Making Sense” is like learning a beautiful language you don’t quite understand. You may not speak it yet, but you know the value is there if you just keep going.
The fact is we need more concert films. Not just as a record of the artists we love but because, like any other cinematic genre, there’s this beautiful artistry that can make a song shine brighter than it ever has before. They need to be theatrically released, enjoyed by the masses and, most importantly, they need to capture why this music matters. “Stop Making Sense” not only excels as a time capsule of Talking Heads and their fame in the 1980s, but it’s a celebration of the strange being accepted by the general public. So, when music and film journalists, critics and publications say that “Stop Making Sense” is the greatest concert film of all time, it’s clear that accurate doesn’t even begin to describe that distinction.
