The pandemic produced a lot of oddball budding interests in me, from the novels of Michael Moorcock to Hong Kong cinema, but on the music side the biggest new wrinkle into my listening was the music of Sparks. I’m not sure how I discovered them, possibly through my reading about their upcoming Leos Carax–directed musical Annette, but I quickly tore through their Spotify catalogue (which is no mean feat), watched tons of Youtube videos, and immediately texted one of my best pals Andy to inform him of this new treasure trove of audible bliss. The idea that a group could be so relentlessly inventive, even well into the point when so many other rockstars and musicians settle into their dinosaur era, was pretty revelatory to me. An album like Lil’ Beethoven especially struck me right in the sweet spot of “challenging music” that I so admire, comfortably buffeted right at home with something like Mr. Bungle’s California. And while I’m not a big documentary viewer by and large, I knew I had to catch Edgar Wright‘s deep-dive into their biography, just to learn even the basic scraps that a simple wikipedia synopsis would not cover.
And after watching it, while I was mostly entertained, I can’t say I was terribly enlightened.
Wright’s approach is pleasant enough, putting the Mael Brothers (Russell and Ron) centerstage, the songwriting duo that make up Sparks in any official capacity, and hitting all the major high points of their biography with lots of breadth, but all too little depth. After an opening segment that keys into the idea that these two gentlemen are total enigmas; they’re asked questions such as “what’s your sexuality?” and “do you live together?”, we journey along through their early childhood, the loss of their father and the impact that had on their family, their early forays in music, their inspirations (including a very cute moment of the young Maels sitting in the audience at a Beatles concert), and then their rise and fall, and rise again and fall once more, and then rise again into the era they find themselves in now. All the while there’s a continuous stream of talking heads, with luminaries like Neil Gaiman, Patton Oswalt, and you know, people who actually spent time on stage with Sparks, sharing their thoughts on what feels like almost every song in their catalogue.
It’s a bit of an unfortunate VH1-like approach, coming across like a combination of something like I Love The 80’s and Behind The Music. It’s a testament to how fascinating the Maels are, and the quick clip that Wright moves through their biography, that the effort doesn’t feel much drag until we finally get past the 2 hour mark. Up to that point, while Wright can’t seem to find a moment he wants to shed (literally every single one of the 25 album the Maels made gets some moment of spotlight), he’s able to find a pretty good balance of archival footage, adorable cartoons that help illustrate the journey, and non-stop commentary from interviewees that are often dialed up to 11. While I don’t particularly care what Oswalt thinks about “Tips for Teens”, Wright is able to compose a couple of great constant underdog heroes in the narrative that are consistently bucking music trends or reinventing them, even to the detriment of their own constant battle with popular relevancy. As an introductory document to Sparks, it’s generally pretty aces.
It’s just hard to not really start to feel that running time, and equally difficult to shake the sense of regret that the movie runs out of gas just as they entered their most artistically flowering period. Mostly though, the biggest sin committed by The Sparks Brothers is that, again, so little light is shed on them as musicians. We never learn about their songwriting process, any disagreements they have, or really anything about their lives at this point. I’m sure that’s all by design, but there is a degree that the maintenance of the mystery becomes obscuring to the point of detriment.
Still, from the perspective that this film acts as a comprehensive 101 and even 201 for the band’s ever shifting style, experimentation, and discography in the lead-up to the launch of their big musical later this year, it basically succeeds on those merits alone. Look, if The Sparks Brothers converts a few more people to the cause and puts a little more money in Russell and Ron’s pockets, hard to not argue that it’s a win.
Oh hey, and as a bonus if you’re looking for four great albums to start your Sparks journey with, here’s what I’d recommend:
Kimono My House
No. 1 in Heaven
Whomp That Sucker
Lil’ Beethoven