More importantly, non-metalheads will recognize metal as a multi-faceted phenomenon. In this film, metalheads will finally see a positive media portrayal of themselves. Dunn's goofy, earnest personality is winning when he interviews Ronnie James Dio and Iron Maiden's Bruce Dickinson, one can't help but cheer for the metalhead who finally gets to meet his idols. Despite its anthropological trappings, this film doesn't try to be anything more than a fan's portrayal of metal. But these are small niggles in the larger picture. While the chart is fairly thorough (is Pantera really "thrash"?), the camera pans across it too quickly and the text is too small to be helpful, especially given metal bands' unreadable logos. Occasionally, Dunn provides a chart showing metal's genealogy. At least once, a talking head isn't identified until a second onscreen appearance. Lamb of God's Randy Blythe and Mark Morton are misidentified as each other. The film has a few technical hiccups, too. Deeper exploration would have been nice it's admirable that Dunn keeps things moving, but some sections feel glossed over.
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There's a brief treatment of Dunn's life, but the film isn't a journey so much as a series of vignettes. While the film is called A Headbanger's Journey, it's not really one. Black metallers Mayhem and Gorgoroth hold nothing back, the former reveling in church burning and the latter chillingly vowing to fight "Christianity and its Semitic roots." Even though this is a film defending metal, the black metal section is the only time that Dunn distances himself from his subjects. Pamela Des Barres, renowned groupie and author of I'm with the Band, makes the case that female groupies are not exploited rather, their actions are their choice. The discussions of gender, sexuality, and religion are the film's highlights. He turns out to be not only articulate but also sharply cognizant of metal's cultural issues, such as censorship and homosexuality. Twisted Sister's Dee Snider is the greatest surprise here.
Slipknot might seem like a bunch of loonies in masks, but when they talk about their dead-end childhoods in Iowa, one better understands their mass youth appeal. The film explodes the stereotype of the knuckle-dragging longhair Black Sabbath's Tony Iommi is elegantly soft-spoken, while Cannibal Corpse's Alex Webster is articulate and musically literate. The bulk of the film is Dunn's interviews with musicians, who seem to let their guard down at the fact their interviewer is a fellow metalhead. The lack of academic rigor doesn't hurt the film, though, and prevents it from being dry. Thus, Deena Weinstein comes across merely as an older woman who's surprisingly hip to metal the average viewer wouldn't know that her sociological studies of metal laid the groundwork for a film like this. This is partially because the film identifies them only by name and title without explaining why their opinion matters.
Dunn enlists some "expert" talking heads, but their contribution is minimal. The film is weakest when Dunn plays anthropologist, and is strongest when he lets his subjects speak for themselves. The conclusions that Dunn draws (he appears both as himself and in voiceover) are simplistic: heavy metal is a culture the culture brings misfits together the music makes people feel empowered. The Environments section shows that metal springs from cold, blue-collar places. The Roots section, for example, traces metal back to blues and classical music. The sections are illustrative, not analytical, and the documentary has the air of a PBS special, if not for the subject matter. This is about as anthropological as the film gets. He divides the film into sections: Sound, Roots, Environments, Gender and Sexuality, Death and Violence, and so on. But for the rest of the film, Dunn succeeds in showing why the question matters.ĭunn's anthropological approach isn't rigorous, or at least doesn't feel that way. It takes all of maybe 10 seconds for the film to provide an answer (hint: Heavy Metal Parking Lot ). Dunn ostensibly tries to find out "why heavy metal has been consistently stereotyped, dismissed, and condemned," which isn't a tough question. The film is a defense of metal culture using Dunn's anthropological credentials. Metal: A Headbanger's Journey is a documentary, but it's not meant to be objective. The fact that he also uses the word "plight" here is telling. The 30 year-old anthropologist wrote his graduate thesis on "the plight of Guatemalan refugees," but several years ago turned his attention to another culture: metalheads. Sam Dunn has loved metal since childhood, and he's unapologetic about it.
If it comes to light that a killer listened to metal, the press seizes upon it handwringing about "what are our children listening to" typically follows. Heavy metal usually appears in the popular media in conjunction with crime.