Stop Making Sense

What’s The Movie? The 1984 Talking Heads concert film Stop Making Sense.

What’s It All About, JG? Watching a band at the absolute pinnacle of their abilities perform what is arguably the greatest concert film ever put together. Capturing the band towards the end of 1983, promoting the Speaking In Tongues album and just before they tilted over into the full-on pop of Little Creatures, Stop Making Sense highlights the band’s back catalogue but changed, warped, adjusted, and generally rearranged for the film. It was shot at the Pantages Theatre in Los Angeles over four nights, the final result being a blend of footage from different nights. The whole of Stop Making Sense was conceived of from the word go as a concert that would be filmed, and David Byrne serves as artistic director, pulling the whole project together. It’s directed by Jonathan Demme in his first outing behind the camera, not that you’d know it from looking at the – frankly amazing – footage. Why cover a 1984 film now? Well, because it’s been re-released back into the cinema in a glorious 4K IMAX restoration to coincide with the 40th anniversary of the original release.

Why Did You Give It A Go? As you may – just possibly – be aware, the original is something of a classic. Also, Talking Heads are my third-favourite band, after The Beatles and R.E.M., and David Byrne (and Jerry Harrison) are profoundly influential on my own modest musical abilities, specifically the way I play rhythm guitar and write. So there was no way that I was going to pass up a chance to see this in the cinema.

Is It Any Good? The original was amazing for the time. Neither grainy VHS releases, the curtailed track listing of the original 80s release, nor time, has managed to diminish the astounding quality of the original. Yet, for most people, the opportunity to see the film in an actual cinema isn’t one that’s been possible. I was all of 11 when the original was released and my attention in 1984 was mostly taken up with Indiana Jones and who the strange new actor playing The Doctor was. It was not on contemplating the finer qualities of what makes a great live performance. In this, I am not alone.

And, you know, it’s easy to become jaded when people bang on about any work of popular culture being “a classic” or “you have to see it in X format to truly appreciate it” and so on. Cultural gatekeeping – complete poison to actually enjoying popular culture – is a ghastly yet inescapable part of consuming media in the current pop culture landscape. And self-appointed, self-righteous bellends bleating on about how right they are and, by extension or implication, how wrong everyone else is or how if you haven’t experienced something in exactly the right way are completely and utterly exhausting (says the person happily banging out their own blog that nobody actually asked for).

I mention this in mitigation of what I’m about to say next. Which is this – what’s so fascinating about the restored 4K version is just how right everyone is about Stop Making Sense. Because it’s genuinely, truly amazing. It’s a stunning performance of some of the best music ever written by a band who are pretty much unsurpassed in their ability to put on a live performance and have every aspect of it just work. The original Stop Making Sense was an astonishing achievement. The restoration is also an astonishing achievement, highlighting the astonishing achievement the original was in the first place. It’s never sterile, as some restorations can be, and it doesn’t alter anything. There’s no “extra footage”, no additional content (beyond a tacked-on-but-separate Q&A session from 2023 that’s entirely orphaned from the accompanying film), and no attempts to rewrite history. The film is the film. And, well, it’s astonishing.

That’s a lot of astonishing achievements, isn’t it? Yet it’s hard not to get carried away because from the moment David Byrne steps onto a completely bare stage with nothing more than a cassette player and an acoustic guitar, the quality never lets up. The band, gradually revealed one member at a time as the set is rolled out with them, get the chance to prove their chops on their own before the rest of the backing back – five additional players that add so much to the sound without ever diluting the core of the original band – join them on stage. The sheer amount of energy they all pour out must have been about enough to power the whole of LA, yet everything is contained tight and focused. Indeed, “focussed” might be the best descriptor of the whole event. An entire band, material, and director all pulling in exactly the same direction to achieve the absolute best results possible. The music is beyond reproach and the quality of musicianship is astounding, even when the band is running on the spot or David Byrne is literally sprinting around the circumference of the stage. But “focused” is what everyone always is and the results are unparalleled.

Anyway, no it’s not good. “Good” is a wholly inadequate adjective to capture what Stop Making Sense is. What it is, in fact, is perfect.

How Many Of These Have You Seen? I’ve seen all the Talking Heads films, which is to say this and True Stories. In terms of other concert films, yeah plenty. None of them are as good, unsurprisingly.

Would You Recommend It? Actually, I shall defer to my fella in this. After we had seen the concert and were walking home, his principal reaction was, “Oh, now I get it!” Which, yes! Just the act of seeing it makes all the hyperbole and fuss around it make, er, sense. And when you do, all that melts away and what you’re left with is a series of absolutely breathtaking performances.

It’s hard to zoom in on the best moments because, really, it’s all “the best moments”. David Byrne and the indescribably talented Tina Weymouth doing “Heaven” together with just an acoustic guitar and bass. The absurdly good musicianship and timing that goes into “Found A Job”. The relentless drive and retooling of “Life During Wartime”. The bravura rendition of “Girlfriend Is Better” followed by the note-perfect cover of “Take Me To The River”. Pick a song, really.

Even the two odd ducks, “What A Day That Was” (from Byrne’s solo career) and “Genius Of Love” (The Tom Tom Cub) integrate perfectly into the setlist. The former fits so easily, in fact, it’s quite hard not to think of it as simply being a great Talking Heads song. The latter could have derailed things as Tina Weymouth takes to the microphone but (and again, I defer to my fella in his observation here) it’s the fact that we get a song without Byrne being front and centre that helps to highlight what he brings. By removing him, his presence upon his return is given even greater emphasis and shows off just what he’s bringing to the table. That “Genius Of Love” features one of the most insidious earworm hooks (de dee! De do de da da!) doesn’t hurt either.

Throughout it all, the sense of occasion never slackens either. The construct-the-set conceit lasts for less than a quarter of the movie, yet it feels like so much more because the band experiments with rear projections, using the stage in inventive ways, bringing on the odd prop like a standard lamp for “This Must Be The Place”. There’s a restlessness about the development of the presentation that keeps the feeling of momentum going.

Similarly, everyone knows about The Big Suit, which has become a pop-cultural emblem. But it doesn’t actually make its debut until the last couple of numbers. That’s a long time before its reveal. Yet it’s a mark of just how – sorry to use this word – iconic it is that its actual screen time is markedly short yet it’s one of the things that stands out most about the concert. Though having it on the cover of the LP release does help in that regard.

Wait, I’m supposed to be answering the question “Would you recommend it”, right? Ah, I think you know the answer by now.

Scores On The Doors? 10/10