Metallica: Through the Never: An IMAX 3D Experience

With Metallica: Through the Never: An IMAX 3D Experience, we have the very latest in vertical filmmaking: is it a film for the fans of the band or is it a film for everybody?

It is a difficult question to answer, and reviews of the film I have seen so far seem to take the tack of "If you like Metallica, you will love it, and if not. . . "  So I think that it is only fair to warn my readers that, before today, I doubt that I had ever heard a Metallica track.  I was sort of hoping that, somewhere along the way, a Metallica song had entered into the world-wide public's consciousness, and that I might say at some point in the film, "Ohh - I know THIS song," But that never happened.

During my long career as a film buff, I have sat through my share of rock concert films. But even as early as 1973's Yessongs, which clocked in at 76 minutes, had die-hard fans complaining that it was too long. The same must be said of 1976's Led Zeppelin's 137 minute The Song Remains the Same, which features a number of cut-aways from the arena action to give the proceedings some visual diversity.  Too long, everyone said. I have even seen 2008's Hanna Montana & Miley Ray Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds Concert (I got a note from my psychiatrist).

Metallica, from what I have been able to glean, is a heavy metal band which enjoys doing things somewhat differently, and their approach (aside from making a person wonder "why now?"), is, in some respects laudable. The concert sequences, shot in two Canadian cities in August of 2012, certainly make me nostalgic. "Oh, for the good old days of arena rock concerts!"  The footage is very impressive.  There is a huge stage, covered with LEDs, allowing video images to be displayed on the entire surface of the stage, which is surrounded on all sides by screaming fans.  But this is only the beginning. In the classic manner of stagecraft, more and more is added to this seemingly simple stage. Coffin-shaped video display units descend from the ceiling (which must contain the band's amps and speakers; there are none on the stage, while the musicians are on radio feeds, allowing them to wander at will across the playing area, while the drummer Lars Ulrich, more-or-less is contained on a revolving drum platform in the center); these coffins display images of dead people, who are being subjected to an unspecified physical torture.

After that, scrims are dropped all around the stage to present video images of World War One era soldiers marching off to their doom, followed by a very effective laser light and sound collage, recreating an aerial bombardment.  It is admittedly something which must be seen and heard to be believed. The bombardment is followed by a heavy construction crew assembling a huge stone statue of the blind Goddess of Justice, who looks rather like something Frank Frazetta by way of R. Crumb might have designed: thick, curvy, blonde, with boobs out to HERE.  As the band sings about whatnot, it proves that the blind Goddess is not constructed too well, and comes crashing down, with large sections narrowly missing the drummer's platform with stagehands running about trying to control the damage.  It also is very effective and spectacular.

And here is the heart of the matter.  At the arena concert shows, bands used to have the money to be able to commission wild, imaginative flights of fancy like these.  It is an elemental part of show business to blow a lot of money trying to make the fans enjoy what is presented.  People love seeing our most precious commodity - money - being spent to thrill a bunch of head-bangers.  As an objective observer, I think this filmed concert captures the theatricality just fine.  But what it also captures is the Metallica tribe itself.  The people for whom images and symbols of death and harshness signify a certain attitude, an attitude large groups of people have about their time here on earth.

It is a tribe of somewhat older, somewhat whiter, somewhat more male composition.  Not too many minorities up there at the Metallica concerts in Canada.  If Metallica satisfies their aesthetics, who am I to argue with it?

The IMAX 'Scope screen is 87 feet wide - I measured it!

Eventually, the dramatic arc swings toward a finale or sorts, as the band's set is plagued by a total breakdown of the stage equipment, with large lighting units tilting precariously, spraying sparks all over, flames shooting up from the stage, and all the scenery and props going haywire.  It is giddy fun, and the director has included shots of the young and the recently nubile enjoying this funhouse-mirror breakdown.  A man runs across the stage on fire, and paramedics are seen.  Long faces in conference are shown.  The music stops, the stage goes dark, and the band sets up some work lights The lead singer, James Hetfield, tells the audience that this now resembles the garage they used to practice in.  But then, a curious thing happens. I was wondering how they were going to get out of this atmosphere of disaster, with stagehands seemingly fried or crushed or whatever. Hetfield tells the crowd that "a couple guys" have been injured, but that they are going to be OK, so after a pow-wow, the band decides to keep on playing.

I did not get it.  Obviously, the show breakdown was intentional.  Fun, like I said.  This tribe seems to enjoy the idea of a total breakdown in our institutions.  The "injury" of the stagehands was something that might have been intentional, and if so, it is a theatrical device to just overlook it.  But if the injuries were not intentional, why leave it in the film?  People have suggested that I not over think this film, and this is surely a wise course to follow, but even still, this sort of stuck out. I guess I would have appreciated knowing what happened and why. Which leads us to the second point.

Through the Never departs from normal concert film form through the use of a story, enacted by a young man named Dane DeHaan, who plays a minor roadie for the band. His name, according to the PR handout, is Trip.  Trip is sent on an errand to get some gas to a truck associated with the band, broken down on a freeway somewhere. In the typical "quest" sort of storyline, Trip gets hit by a car, is stared at by an injured black man (was he in the accident also?) who runs off like a loon, is confronted by a gang of rioters, culminating in a confrontation with the Super Bad-Ass Riding a Horse.  All of this material is woven through the concert footage, at first only between songs, but as we get further along, a more integrated style is used.  The action in the Trip story probably is mirrored by the material the band is performing, but I am not familiar enough with the Metallica songbook to be able to report reliably on this.

This storyline was an interesting gambit, and although it ends on a distressingly ambiguous note, Trip's story seemed as though it was an attempt to make the film a bit more "with it" for the younger crowd. Trip is the youngest person in the picture. But what really happened to the stagehands?? Perhaps I have been watching too much reality television.

Which brings us to the sound work.  I was told going in that this film was LOUD.  I was also told that since this is the first real new digital everything IMAX film to play the Chinese, that IMAX techs have set the volume levels to their satisfaction. They were even okay with leaving the curtains between the side wall pillars open throughout the film.  But I have to say that the film is nowhere near the decibel levels one is subjected to at the real thing. A band like Metallica can easily afford a way more massive sound system on tour than any movie theatre can spring for. I remember 1992's IMAX documentary Fires of Kuwait, which depicted firefighters dealing with oil well fires as Iraqi was withdrawing from Kuwait in 1991. At the premiere in LA, there were a few firefighters who fought in these infernos.  I asked one of them if the sound of the flames from the oil heads was loud enough, and he said "This isn't even one tenth of how loud those were."

So I guess there is room for improvement in movie sound after all!

The Wizard of OZ: An IMAX 3D Experience

At yesterday's World Premiere at the Chinese of The Wizard of OZ: An IMAX 3D Experience, Oz Historian John Fricke, during his opening remarks, asked for the audience to indicate how many people had never seen the film.  Only a slight number of hands clapped. Then he asked, "How many of you have never seen Oz in a theatre?"  A much greater round of applause this time. And this is a shame. The trip to Oz is so much more interesting in a theatre for so many reasons.

And this lies at the heart of this new version of Oz, which has been prepared for us to enjoy.

Most of us encounter the film, one way or another, on television, replete with commercials, interruptions, and everything else. I know I did.  The Yuletide tradition.

But then, there is encountering the film the way it was originally designed to be seen: in a theatrical setting, probably on a screen about 18 feet (or less) tall. And now, at the Chinese anyway, you have the film playing on a screen 46 feet tall and 61 feet wide, watching it from what you might consider to be a theatre balcony with no orchestra floor and shoved closer and lower to the screen: you are right there in the middle of it.

This is what the IMAX format was designed to do. Every IMAX theatre duplicates this approach. The large screen, the cliff of seats, the surround sound — it admittedly is very good at providing the viewer with an immersive experience. In fact, Oz was preceded with one of those short clips telling you about how great IMAX is — computerized space-graphics of chromed letters zooming and bobbing around, accompanied by sound effects meant to suggest speed and impact. All very calculated, all very dimensional.

And then, a strange thing happens. A slightly sculpted Leo the Lion shows up, then the credits roll for Oz, and then into the opening of the film in sepia Kansas, and you know, the whole things looks very natural. The Wizard of Oz in 3D doesn't look in the slightest bit weird or strange at all.  I suspect that, since stereo photography had been around for a while even in 1939, whoever guided this 3D conversion had the taste and good sense to say to themselves, "If they had shot Oz in 3D back then, what would it have looked like?"

And this is what they have done. Provided you do not have the usual objections to 3D films, and that you do not suffer from the eye fatigue which so many people complain of, the experience of looking into the world created in the film becomes a really rather normal thing - you accept it right off. For a fellow such as myself, who has seen the film countless times theatrically, this is good news!

So that is out of the way.  The 3D is subtle and not overdone at all. Not even when they have a perfectly good opportunity, such as the shot looking up into the sky at the conclusion of the twister sequence, where the bottom of the house hurtles toward the camera — nope, they refrain from making that a "lookit everybody - duck!" moment.  That was not the point of the shot originally, so they hew to the through line they have set for themselves: don't be obvious.

The bigger issue (if you will pardon the pun) is that of the IMAX presentation. Since seeing the '59 Ben-Hur and Giant at the Chinese during the TCM Festival earlier this year, I have been musing on the subject of our spacial relationships to a screen.  Watching Ben-Hur on such a large screen provides you with a completely different relationship with the events presented, which had been staged counting on the fact you would be seeing it on a large screen in a theatre.

The aim of Hollywood during the 1930s was to make the sharpest, brightest color picture it was possible to make in 35mm (they tried 70mm, but it did not impress audiences at the time). Part of the visual design of Oz is that, when the Tin Man is dancing, they simply provide him with a background that contrasts with his figure, set the camera at a good angle, and let him do his thing.  Stagey a bit, but appropriate for the moment. It was possible to get away with simple camera coverage like this for two reasons: first, the players on camera were, for the most part, seasoned vaudevillians, trained to perform. One did not have to cut to a new angle every second in order to hide the performer's lack of technique. And secondly, the image was so gorgeous to look at: sharp, colorful, a joy to behold.

When Oz is enlarged to 46 feet tall, and one views it from the previously unimagined perspective of the IMAX bank of seats, a curious thing occurs, and it has nothing to do with sharpness. It has to do with the intimacy that has been gained. It seems strange to admit that a bigger screen would make for more intimacy, but it is true. All the old Hollywood directors liked the 1:1.33 frame, because it was so easy to compose close, intimate group scenes in the ratio. It is not surprising that the original 70mm IMAX was in this shape. The eye may reflexively sweep horizontally (hence widescreen), but that 1:1.33 image just fills your eyeline completely.

So much easier to compose groups in 1.33.

And so, the effect of stepping into the picture is greater.  I have noticed that with stadium seating, one tends to be less aware of the audience. Oz, I think, benefits from this to a degree, because it is a fantastical story happening to a young girl; when we do make the leap into the film's world, it is on a very personal level. Perhaps it is because we have all been introduced to Oz as children that does it.  We do not need an audience to enjoy it.

There are two scenes in Oz that never fail to grip me by the throat, and they both have been intensified by the IMAX 3D treatment.  The first is the sequence where Dorothy returns to the farm with the twister and her being knocked out.  Let's just say that the threatening image of the cyclone in the background, ripping up the land, as the camera stealthily tracks along as Dorothy tries to get the storm cellar open - it's terrifying.  The new sound work here is simply shattering.  Like the 3D effects, it is not over the top, but it is loud, scary and rumbly.

The second is where, on the balloon podium, in a very close shot, Dorothy must say goodbye to her three friends, culminating in the best example of underwriting there has ever been: "I'm going to miss you most of all."  Just reading these words almost makes me weep. It is a very close composition, very tender and sincerely played by all the actors.

These moments are made all the more real because of their newfound depth and closeness.

The IMAX 3D version of Oz gives us another way to see this most-cherished film, and I think that the way that they have done it is classy, respectful, and true to the spirit of the thing.  Let's hope they roll it out to IMAX theatres at Christmastime from here on.