‘Stop Making Sense’ Review: A Religious Experience Same As It Ever Was

Jonathan Demme’s film Stop Making Sense isn’t just a concert film; it’s an ecstatic experience that transcends music, cinema, and spirituality. 

This documentary concert film captures the very spirit of the Talking Heads, the iconic band that shattered the music scene with their avant-garde style and cerebral lyrics. The first time I watched the film, it turned into a turning point in my life; the music didn’t just play — it filled me with awe and elevated my well-being.

This review delves into every aspect of this cinematic marvel, celebrating its production, the musical genius of the band, and the profound impact it has on its audience.

What makes Demme so special is the way that he films this concert. There’s no traditional, single-setlist style or routine, nor typical concert film tropes present. Demme, with help from Byrne, constructs an emotional and physical journey through music. The film opens with David Byrne stepping onto a dimly lit stage with a cool, magnetic presence, looking like a modern-day Jesus Christ preaching rock and roll music.

The concert is expertly arranged with every instrument being introduced one by one adding another layer to the whole atmosphere of the stage. David Byrne enters the stage with an acoustic guitar and boombox, which feels like the birth of a musical universe. By each song, more members join him, an illustration of showing a crescendo of creativity and collaboration. Such gradual buildup is a reflection of life’s grand journey; the evolution of relationships through living experiences we call life, which each experience enriches one for rational understanding of the world around us.

Every Talking Heads member adds something to the transcendental experience. Layers of Tina Weymouth’s bass lines pulse with their own heartbeat, and Jerry Harrison’s skillful guitar and keyboard work provide layers of depth and richness. Chris Frantz’s drumming is both raw and crisp, giving the tunes a force that appeals to a wide audience.

However, David Byrne is the one who steals the show. His delivery of every song veers between being strong and sensitive, exposing themes of alienation, connection, and satire on modern life. Watching Stop Making Sense will fill you with genuine astonishment by Byrne’s dancing, which was absolutely engaging despite being frequently awkward and childish. Byrne embodies the essence of the song and transforms the stage into a Mozartian world where each movement has the feeling of a gloriously divine act.

The setlist is a carefully curated selection of the Talking Heads’ most iconic tracks, with each song being a chapter in a larger narrative. Starting from ‘Psycho Killer’, the transitions bring an organic displacement from the haunting, rhythmic mantra to the euphoric high of ‘Once in a Lifetime’ with the latter’s repetitive refrain ‘same as it ever was’ as worthy of both personal reflection and a universal question, inviting us to contemplate our own paths.

‘Burning Down the House’ and ‘Life During Wartime’ ignites the stage with reckless abandon. With images of Byrne dancing frantically that makes you almost feel you are part of some great ecstatic rite. It takes us back to that glorious, unpredictable place, where rock can prime the beast in us and push us to dance like nobody’s watching.

Each piece of music is not merely performed; it is experienced. The transition from ‘What a Day That Was’ to ‘This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)’ carries straight up the main theme of the show: a quest for placement amid disorder. The buoyant music becomes counterbalanced by the serious lyrics, creating that bittersweet tension that lingers long after every last note dies. 

It is actually fascinating to discover that Jonathan Demme, the director of The Silence of the Lambs, is also behind the production of Stop Making Sense. Both have shown his distinct knack for making compelling stories, although they treat the immensely different spheres of human experience. In Stop Making Sense, Demme celebrates joy, connection, and the collective experience of music, creating a vibrant and uplifting atmosphere. While, The Silence of the Lambs delves deep into the darker sides of human nature, embracing the sensations of fear, control, and complexities of the mind. Where The Silence of the Lambs is filled with so much tension, Stop Making Sense exudes energetic freedom.

Nonetheless, both films reveal Demme’s uncanny ability to draw the audience to the emotional heart of his subject. Whether a character is a musician performing live at a concert or a detective pursuing a serial-killer, Demme embodies this spirit that opens the soul and makes it possible for audiences to relate to their adventures on a personal level.

Demme’s direction is full of sheer brilliance. He uses a variety of cinematic techniques to enhance the impact of the concert film. Wide angles highlight the energy of the crowd, while close-ups capture the band’s unadulterated emotions. The editing is rhythmic and precisely synced with the music, giving the impression of a grand celebration. The film offers a dynamic canvas for storytelling, expertly portrayed through the dynamic aesthetics of its director of photography. With its varied shadows, the light play conjures up a nearly mystical atmosphere, each frame brimming with energy that envelops the viewer in a realm where music reigns supreme.

Watching Stop Making Sense is like attending a religious gathering. The collective energy transforms the experience that’ll make you dance, sing along, and lose yourself in the music. It’s as if we’re all suspended in time, collectively grappling with the complexities of existence while simultaneously losing ourselves in the joyous rhythm. The film invites us to be part of something larger than ourselves — a shared celebration of life, love, and the human experience. 

Stop Making Sense is not only the greatest concert film of all time but also a testament to the power of music as a transformative force. The radical perceptive art of Jonathan Demme, compounded with the techniques of the quite unusual Talking Heads, carries an intensive viewing experience. As the last flicker of light dims and the first impression of the credits unceremoniously fills the empty space of the screen, you walk out lighter, as though your heart is sprinkled with hope.

The experience stays with you throughout, as a soft voice reminding you to move to the rhythms of life, dance like nobody’s watching, and, most importantly, embrace once in a while through the universal language of music. Trailing into the disjointed reality of life, Stop Making Sense glows like a beacon, a call to stop making sense and start living fully.

Stop Making Sense is directed by Jonathan Demme. The concert films stars Talking Heads’ David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison. The movie is now available on digital platforms remastered by A24.

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