Freakscene: The Story of Dinosaur Jr.

As an unusually long-lived, influential band from the '80s and '90s punk and alt-rock scene, not to mention one that underwent sweeping personnel changes at the height of their popularity, one might expect a lot of fire and drama from Dinosaur Jr's feature-length tell-all. That is, assuming the viewer has never been exposed to the serene, ultra-reserved demeanor of frontman J Mascis, whose reluctance to answer interviewers' quandaries about anything more substantial than guitar equipment is well-documented. I'd hoped that a more active involvement (Mascis is listed as a producer), plus the presence of founding members Murph and Lou Barlow, might counteract those aloof sensibilities. Nope... it's just another example of J being J, eschewing long sentences and avoiding direct eye contact while aged photos fade over the screen and old VHS footage fills narrative gaps. The other members have the personality to compensate (Murph especially), but they freely concede that it was Mascis, and only Mascis, who sat in the creative driver's seat and can only muster informed guesses about his true character and motivations. I'm not sure if this is the case of a potent, explosive musician that burnt out and grew old or one who's only capable of expressing himself through music. Maybe a little of both. Whatever the cause, it just doesn't translate into a particularly stimulating documentary. The music is great, its volume levels essentially doubled to mimic the band's infamously ear-splitting live shows, but you probably already knew that much. The talking bits are better summarized on Wikipedia.

As an unusually long-lived, influential band from the '80s and '90s punk and alt-rock scene, not to mention one that underwent sweeping personnel changes at the height of their popularity, one might expect a lot of fire and drama from Dinosaur Jr's feature-length tell-all. That is, assuming the viewer has never been exposed to the serene, ultra-reserved demeanor of frontman J Mascis, whose reluctance to answer interviewers' quandaries about anything more substantial than guitar equipment is well-documented. I'd hoped that a more active involvement (Mascis is listed as a producer), plus the presence of founding members Murph and Lou Barlow, might counteract those aloof sensibilities. Nope... it's just another example of J being J, eschewing long sentences and avoiding direct eye contact while aged photos fade over the screen and old VHS footage fills narrative gaps. The other members have the personality to compensate (Murph especially), but they freely concede that it was Mascis, and only Mascis, who sat in the creative driver's seat and can only muster informed guesses about his true character and motivations. I'm not sure if this is the case of a potent, explosive musician that burnt out and grew old or one who's only capable of expressing himself through music. Maybe a little of both. Whatever the cause, it just doesn't translate into a particularly stimulating documentary. The music is great, its volume levels essentially doubled to mimic the band's infamously ear-splitting live shows, but you probably already knew that much. The talking bits are better summarized on Wikipedia.