This is Spinal Tap

1984's THIS IS SPINAL TAP is a more a film of wide smiles than sheer belly laughs.  And this is why I believe it continues to play so well for me, why it has aged so well.  Creating a spoof of rock documentaries shouldn't have been too challenging a task for enormous talents like Christopher Guest, Michael McKeen, Harry Shearer, and director Rob Reiner.  Straight docs are often quite hilarious enough without the obvious winks.  What SPINAL TAP does it makes itself seem like a legitimate document of a band, sufficient to reportedly fool real rock stars like U2's The Edge.  All the best comedy comes when you're not trying to play it funny.  Dedication to the seriousness of your subject, not matter how ridiculous, is the key to comic riches.  The actors in AIRPLANE! understood this.

Perhaps that is why one of the posters for SPINAL TAP features a flying guitar with its neck in knots, mimicking that of the earlier movie, a spoof of disaster films.  But Reiner's film is not a gag a minute farce, and longs stretches may pass where there is no audible laughter.  At least from someone like myself.  Especially when I'm watching a movie alone; I very rarely laugh out loud.  Even when they are riotous.  I can recognize things that are funny without actually laughing.  I suspect many people, in many circumstances, laugh out of politeness when they're around others.  Even during plays and movies.  It's all OK, and SPINAL TAP sustains humor even as it feels authentic, which is just about its entire eighty-two minutes.

Reiner appears onscreen as director Marty Di Bergi, interviewer of the titular English heavy metal group that has played together for fifteen years.  Their best days are long behind them.  David St. Hubbins (McKeen) and Nigel Tufnel (Guest) have known each other since childhood.  Along with bassist Derek Smalls (Shearer) and the others, Spinal Tap dutifully tours the U.S. at increasingly small venues (when their gigs aren't cancelled).  They even end up at a military base.  The members are arguing over the design of the stage, including an ambitious Stonehenge set that, er, turns out a bit smaller than expected (one of the funniest moments). The low point may come when a D.J. refers to them in the "Where Are They Now" category on the radio one day.  Or is it when no one shows up to their appearance at a record store?  Or when their manager, bowing to pressure from the label over sexist imagery on their latest album cover, has it redone in all black, sans lettering.

Of course there is also a girlfriend who tags along and tries to influence decisions about the band's direction.  The script by our funny quartet mines real life rock controversies so thoroughly it's hard to discuss what they didn't parody.  By the way, the guys are real musicians.  These are not merely actors who took a crash course a few months before filming.  Metal fans should be able to appreciate the tunes.  Spinal Tap has subsequently toured for real and produced other documentaries.

Most people quote the broadest gags: the amplifier that goes to "11", the airport metal detector scene, the uncooperative stage cocoons.  Fun cameos, too.  All wonderful, but there are dozens of smaller moments that are just as amusing.  Recognizance of clever writing and dead on performances (in all senses) - these are the things that make THIS IS SPINAL TAP a classic.  Guest was certainly inspired to create his own dryly hilarious "mockumentaries" for years to come.