TORONTO — The hottest ticket at this year’s Toronto
International Film Festival was not for the new auteur film from Hayao Miyazaki
or Ryusuke Hamaguchi, the latest vehicle for Kate Winslet or Sean Penn, or
grand prizewinners at Cannes and Venice. No, the most feverishly in-demand
screening was for a 39-year-old movie that everyone in its sold-out audience
could have watched at home, at the push of a button.
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But this isn’t just any 39-year-old movie. “Stop Making
Sense,” directed by Jonathan Demme, is widely considered to be one of the
finest examples of the form, a joyful documentation (and celebration) of
Talking Heads’ 1983 tour supporting their album “Speaking in Tongues.” The
Toronto festival screening marked the debut of A24’s new restoration of the
film before its theatrical and IMAX rerelease later this month.
But the real draw in Toronto was the band’s reunion for a
Q&A conducted by Spike Lee after the screening (and simulcast to IMAX
theaters across the globe). “This is the greatest concert film ever!” he
enthused with the musicians sitting next to him. “I can say that! You might not
want to, but for me, I’m going on record, around the world: this is the
greatest concert film ever.”
The 25-minute chat was the first time the band members had
appeared together since they were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of
Fame in 2002. That reunion was an event in itself, following what frontman
David Byrne recently described, with characteristic understatement, as an
“ugly” breakup in 1991. His former bandmates haven’t been quite so delicate. In
2020, drummer Chris Frantz published a memoir in which he accused Byrne of
frequently diminishing the contributions of his fellow musicians, while bassist
Tina Weymouth referred to him as, among many other slurs, “a vampire.” (Byrne
has since granted that he was “more of a little tyrant” in those early years.)
But in Toronto, it was all good vibes for Byrne, Frantz and
Weymouth (who are married), and keyboardist and guitarist Jerry Harrison. “I’m
very grateful to be here tonight, and to be able to watch this and to enjoy it
so much,” Frantz said warmly at the beginning of the conversation. Byrne
concurred: “When I was watching this just now, I was thinking, this is why we
come to the movie theaters. This is different than watching it on my laptop!”
And indeed it was. From the opening image — of Byrne’s
scuffed-up white sneakers striding onto the stage, as he sets down a boombox
and announces, “Hi, I got a tape I wanna play” — seeing “Stop Making Sense” in
IMAX was like seeing it anew. The image, blown up from the original 35 mm
negatives, was crisp and rich; the sound, an early digital audio recording,
felt like it had been laid down last night. The restless, roving, participatory
nature of Demme’s cameras make it much more than a standard concert documentary.
It’s an exhilarating record of a group of talented people, at the peak of their
considerable powers, having a great time making groundbreaking music that you
can still dance to.
Demme, who died at 73 in 2017, was attracted to the
material, Byrne recalled, because the show they’d assembled told a story, with
a beginning, middle, and end. The picture starts, quite literally, with the
forming of the band, as Byrne is joined by each additional member, one by one,
and their show is built out from the bare stage on which it begins. By the
midpoint, this odd little man and his friends have become a family, and when
Byrne sings the kind and welcoming lyrics of “This Must Be the Place” (“Home/is
where I want to be/but I guess I’m already there”), it’s as heartfelt and
moving an emotional beat as you’ll find in any narrative film.
Byrne recalled realizing that Demme, working with editor
Lisa Day, was actually making an ensemble film. “Like, you would have a bunch
of actors in a location and you get to know each character, one by one,” Byrne
explained, adding, “You get familiar with them, and then you watch how they all
interact with one another. And I thought, I’m in my own world. But he saw that,
he saw what was going on there.”
The sheer visceral impact of the filmmaking, when shown at
IMAX proportions, was staggering as well. Demme’s striking, out-of-the-box
lighting choices and close-up compositions are jaw-dropping on the big screen,
and Byrne comes across as even more like a (seemingly impossible) movie star,
from his first reveal in the iconic Big Suit (“It was really big tonight,”
Frantz quipped) to his serpentine slithering during “Life During Wartime.” He’s
aware of the camera and plays to it savvily — not just singing the band’s
songs, but performing them (and understanding the difference).
But he’s far from the only attraction, and the detail of the
IMAX restoration (coupled with Demme’s preference for long takes and wide
shots) provides the viewer with plenty of opportunities to observe the
dynamics, throughout the frame, between the group, additional musicians like
keyboardist Bernie Worrell, and the crew. The cameras capture their nonverbal
communication, the little cues and asides and flashes of encouragement they’re
throwing at one another through the entire show.
“There’s all these moments that he caught, where one of us
looks at the other, looks over at Bernie or Bernie looks at us, all those
little quick interactions,” Byrne marveled. “And I thought, that stuff is
amazing.”
Harrison said that “one of the reasons for the lasting power
of the film is you see that we are having so much fun onstage,” adding that
“the audience is brought right into it. We say, you’re part of this, too. And I
think that every time anybody watches it, it brings back that wonderful
emotion.”
That was certainly the case in Toronto. The rowdy crowd
applauded every number, cheered for the band’s introductions and clapped along
with the breakdown in “Take Me to the River.” One guy hollered, “Encore!” when
the movie ended.
Both “Once in a Lifetime” and “Burning Down the House”
brought audience members to their feet, just like their on-screen counterparts,
to dance in the aisles. To be fair, they’re very hard songs to not dance to. In
the seventh row, at his aisle seat, David Byrne was on his feet with them,
bobbing his head and rocking back and forth, once more, for old times’ sake.
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