This Is Spinal Tap

Marty Di Bergi:
Hello; my name is Marty Di Bergi. I'm a filmmaker. I make a lot of commercials. That little dog that chases the covered wagon underneath the sink? That was mine. In 1966, I went down to Greenwich Village, New York City to a rock club called Electric Banana. Don't look for it; it's not there anymore. But that night, I heard a band that for me redefined the word "rock and roll". I remember being knocked out by their... their exuberance, their raw power - and their punctuality. That band was Britain's now-legendary Spinal Tap. Seventeen years and fifteen albums later, Spinal Tap is still going strong. And they've earned a distinguished place in rock history as one of England's loudest bands.

Above lies the introduction to This Is Spinal Tap, the 1984 rockumentary that reflected musical excesses and prefigured mockumentary comedy. The docu format hadn’t been used much – if at all – in comedy up until this point, but here the film begins with 'director' Marty Di Bergi (the name an amalgam of Martin Scorsese, Brian De Palma and Steven Spielberg) introducing his subject. The hints are there that the band are in free fall. Di Bergi, after all, is new to filmmaking; his specialism rests in dog commercials. The list of the band’s qualities are reduced to the bathetic (‘punctuality’). Further, the prolific output (‘seventeen years and fifteen albums later’), suggests a disregard for quality control. They’re not defined as England’s greatest band, rather ‘one of' England's loudest band.’ Even though the jokes are there, they’re subtle. So much so that many thought the band were real on release. They believed  that this was a documentary as opposed to a mockumentary. The same happened to Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant’s The Office when it was aired in 2001. Its influence? This is Spinal Tap.

We join Spinal Tap in the late fall of 1982 where they’re about to embark on their first US tour in six years. Hopes are high with new album ‘Smell the Glove’ in the can. This is Tap’s chance to take America and capture college territory. Their route to annexation? Hare (brained) metal. Tap are a band that produce songs like ‘Big Bottom,’ boasting such lyrics as ‘My baby fits me like a flesh tuxedo, I love to sink her with my pink torpedo.’ When Shakespeare wrote rhyming couplets, this is not what he had in mind. Rife with ribald innuendo and tortured puns, their songs are Carry On movies put to riffs.

The rejected cover art for 'Smell My Glove.' The band were surprised it was considered sexist.

Spinal Tap are a band in trouble. Formerly, they were playing in arenas of 10-15,000; now, they’re struggling to fill 2000 capacity venues. Their band manager reasons, ‘their appeal is becoming more selective.’ This is a lie told to all band’s past their peak. You haven’t lost fans, you’ve streamlined them. You’ve shaken off the casual listener, refined your base. Writers and stars Harry Shearer, Rob Reiner, Christopher Guest and Michael McKean are aware of what turns musicians into monsters: the fear of employees to have artists confront reality.

With no one being truthful with Spinal Tap, they’re allowed to spout rock n’ roll cliché after rock n’ roll cliché. Everything from how they dress to how they talk to how they stage smacks of trope. This is even spoofed when singer David St. Hubbins and guitarist Nigel Tufnel discuss how their earlier band name was The Originals, until they realised another band were called that, causing them to rename themselves The New Originals. This in a nutshell is the band’s problem: they think they’re at the vanguard of metal when in fact they’re a a genre tribute act.

3/4 of the band in picture. The drummer wasn't available.

Let’s look into those clichés more. First, there’s the costume. Clad in spandex, dressed in hair, Spinal Tap have gone to the same rental outfitters as every other metal band. Then, there’s the set design. This is the era of concepts where huge sums were spent on staging. Led Zeppelin had a giant Stonehenge for their 1979 concert and Iron Maiden had a twelve foot mascot stalk them in 1982. The bigger, the better. So Spinal Tap think as well. With this in mind, they incorporate theatrical elements into their performance. In the track ‘Rock n’ Roll Creation' the lyrics centre on a life before sound. The band are contained in wombs, readied to be birthed into rock stardom. There’s one problem: one of the hatches won’t open. The bassist Derek Smalls can’t get out. What should look cool now resembles an asphyxiation plot. Eventually, the horror of being trapped cracks into full-blown comedy. When he breaks free, the comic timing is sublime.

And then there’s the talk. Nigel Tufnel is the kind of idiot that makes Liam Gallagher look worldly wise. He has the hands of a maestro and the mind of a car accident. Whereas every other rock stars stupidity goes up to ten, Tufnel’s got a special dial taking his to eleven. In my favourite moment, we see him playing a beautiful piece on the piano. He describes how it’s inspired by Mozart and Bach. When asked, ‘what’s this piece called?’ He replies, ‘Lick My Love Pump.’ When it comes to intelligence, the band are a filling short of a sandwich.

This Is Spinal Tap is reflective and retrospective, pricking the era with good-natured satire. However, its influence on the future needs stating too. The jokes that close the film are huge influences on The Office (Brent’s ‘How would you like to be remembered?’ is redolent of St. Hubbins’ epitaph line, and Brent immersing himself in role play ‘There’s been a rape up there’ invokes Tufnel imagining life as a salesman). Further, the brilliant Flight of the Conchords owe a debt to the movie as they are Tap’s low-fi equivalent.

Most people have a love of comedy, music and film: this is 82 minutes where the three perfectly intersect. If you haven’t seen it, then you must. More than Monty Python, I would argue it’s the thing that’s most influenced the sitcoms you watch today. A mark out of 10? I'd give it an ...

(This Is Spinal Tap is available on DVD.)