The Secret to a Happy Ending
It's a lyric from the song "World of Hurt", and also the title of a documentary on the Drive-By Truckers. Saw the film tonight in the company of the esteemed Badger at the Pinhook tonight, in the company of roughly fifty other DBT devotees of various stripes and affinities. Lots of mesh trucker hats worn unironically, a few worn ironically. Nervous-looking, angular blondes tapping the feet every time a song played during the documentary. Older gents drinking PBR, because what the hell else do you drink watching a documentary on the DBTs? And around us all, the Pinhook's cool stoner cousin's basement ambience, brick walls and old sofas and beanbag chairs, and a hell of a beer list.
The film's a good one. It's clearly done from a fan's point of view, but isn't a hagiography; mostly the director is happy to stand back and let the band, and their music, speak for themselves. Much of the movie orbits around guitarist/songwriter/vocalist Patterson Hood, a giant ball of passion and occasional confusion who's in a band because, as he notes, he's no good at anything else. Mixing up sweat and tears, telling stories that bounce from bashful to the borders of arrogance to the occasional surprise at what the band's actually managing to pull off, reaching for a guitar or a beer bottle to ease along the telling, he's driven by a vision of what the band could be, even if he doesn't always quite seem to know what that vision is from moment to moment. Songwriter/guitarist/vocalist Mike Cooley's more laconic but pithy in his moments. When he plays "Space City" alone in a darkened room and just lets the chime of the last chord linger on and on, it's chilling. And former member of the triumvirate Jason Isbell undergoes a visible metamorphosis across the film's duration. Earlier interview clips make him come across as almost painfully young, enthused as hell about everything and having the time of his life. By the time the doc moves past his divorce, from bassist Shonna Tucker and from the band, he's interviewed as he strides relentlessly away from the camera, uphill through woods and tall grass. He's regretful, and more mature, and moving away.
There's some quibbles one could have with the film - the occasional intrusion of a boom mike, the relative paucity of interview sessions the talking heads segments are drawn from, the sound mix. But they're quibbles. It''s worth a see, and a listen, and maybe a though or two.
And like the song says, the secret to a happy ending is knowing when to say "Cut."
The film's a good one. It's clearly done from a fan's point of view, but isn't a hagiography; mostly the director is happy to stand back and let the band, and their music, speak for themselves. Much of the movie orbits around guitarist/songwriter/vocalist Patterson Hood, a giant ball of passion and occasional confusion who's in a band because, as he notes, he's no good at anything else. Mixing up sweat and tears, telling stories that bounce from bashful to the borders of arrogance to the occasional surprise at what the band's actually managing to pull off, reaching for a guitar or a beer bottle to ease along the telling, he's driven by a vision of what the band could be, even if he doesn't always quite seem to know what that vision is from moment to moment. Songwriter/guitarist/vocalist Mike Cooley's more laconic but pithy in his moments. When he plays "Space City" alone in a darkened room and just lets the chime of the last chord linger on and on, it's chilling. And former member of the triumvirate Jason Isbell undergoes a visible metamorphosis across the film's duration. Earlier interview clips make him come across as almost painfully young, enthused as hell about everything and having the time of his life. By the time the doc moves past his divorce, from bassist Shonna Tucker and from the band, he's interviewed as he strides relentlessly away from the camera, uphill through woods and tall grass. He's regretful, and more mature, and moving away.
There's some quibbles one could have with the film - the occasional intrusion of a boom mike, the relative paucity of interview sessions the talking heads segments are drawn from, the sound mix. But they're quibbles. It''s worth a see, and a listen, and maybe a though or two.
And like the song says, the secret to a happy ending is knowing when to say "Cut."
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