Tonight, alone, in a sparsely attended showing, shoveling vast amounts of pop corn and Coke down my gullet, I say the Metallica movie. I was about five minutes late, having gotten lost on the way. That is normal for me.
The concert footage was outstanding. The film did not use the unbearable fast cuts and jump cuts that are so common, but it did give multiple angels on the band and the audience (who seemed to be worshiping more than listening).
The physicality of this band is remarkable. Their music, while load and intense, is not simple. Yet, they walk and run around the stage, which, in this case was in the round. Yet all the tunes were perfectly executed. Yet I wonder if "Cyanide" does not excuse suicide, which is morally wrong. James screams to the hysterical crowd at one point, "How does it feel to be alive?" The implication is that it is right to be alive, and that this group experience contributes to that. But, then, why do "Cyanide?"
Now consider the nearly unbearable part. There was a secondary story of a roadie who was sent to obtain some object for the band. Along the way, he encounters horrendous and unexplained violence. These scenes are interspersed with the band's performance. Since these pointless and violent interjections included extra sounds (bodies being burned, crushed, slashed, and the like), I had a clue to close my eyes or just peek at the screen at the screen to see if the boys had returned to the screen--where they belonged for the entire film.
The secondary story make so sense whatsoever. It was not only senseless violence, but inexplicable violence. It marred the film. Good night, Metallica (especially with that elaborate stage set up) is dramatic enough!
There it is: Philosopher goes Metallica.