A multi-channel celebration of Pavement eschews the traditional format of music biopics and pays homage to alternative rockers who built a large following outside the mainstream.
In Alex Ross Perry's exuberant tribute to Pavement, Tim Heidecker offers a succinct account of what made the band a staple of '90s college radio: "For the kids who thought everything was bullshit and everything was a mess, they were your band." In an era when rock stars forgot to spend hours in a makeup chair combing their hair and instead wore their street shirts, the band, led by Stephen Malkmus, cultivated a fanbase that cared a great deal when they didn't care at all, standing out in the grunge era for their wry detachment and a general lack of pretension that belied the sophistication of their songwriting.
Director: Alex Ross Perry
Writer: Alex Ross Perry
Stars: Stephen Malkmus, Scott Kanberg, Joe Keery
While passion didn't necessarily seem like a part of Pavement's persona, Perry feels obliged to make up for it, declaring them "the most important and influential band in the world" in the opening minutes of his charmingly unabashed celebration, perhaps to curry favor with the uninitiated, but equally intended to convince the band of their own greatness. It's impossible not to be captivated by the director's work, which involves at least four distinct production modes: a shoot with the band as they prepare for their first shows in 12 years in fall 2022; the off-Broadway musical "Slanted! Enchanted!" starring Michael Esper, Zoe Lister-Jones, and Kathryn Gallagher; the gallery show "Pavements 33-22," themed after the Whitney Museum, where some of the band worked as security guards; and the cheeky biopic "Range Life," starring Joe Keery, Nat Wolff, Griffin Newman, Logan Miller, and Fred Hechinger, all played by band members.
The decadent displays of affection may be a sign of Perry's enthusiasm for Pavement, but they also serve a clever function. The director, who primarily works in fiction, found plenty of tension taking audiences backstage in his previous narrative feature, "Her Smell," which followed the implosion of a band with a volatile frontman. Yet Perry clearly knows that the reality of most bands is far less dramatic. Malkmus, by nature, seems like a fairly mellow central figure, and the only major setbacks in Pavement's story were the firing of their first drummer and an infamous Lollapalooza performance that ended with them flipping the audience off after being thrown into a shower of mud. They wrapped production entirely in 1999 simply due to the heavy lifting.
Nevertheless, "Pavements" dazzles like a turntable show where Perry and his veteran editor, Robert Greene, can perform "Woodstock"-style cross-cuts or split screens to propel the production forward, gaining real-world perspective by juxtaposing the band's fictional performances in the present with more mundane scenes from when it was all really happening. Gleefully exposing the self-centered nature of most musician biopics, which often concoct a shallow narrative for an artist's career that's anything but (and even then lack a particularly interesting story to tell), Perry's film focuses on performance preparation across all four narrative strands. They end up discussing Pavement's work in ways that more traditional artist biographies generally elude, even as the band itself and those tasked with reinterpreting their work find new insights within it.
While "Pavements" doesn't skimp on the sound mix for a band meant to be heard at full volume, there's a subtle power in how the music unfolds. Rarely does a moment pass when the songs aren't used as an electric backdrop, but there's never a full performance on display, making the moments when the songs take center stage truly overwhelming. It could also be perceived as a subtle reflection of the band's breakthrough into the mainstream with hits like "Cut Your Hair" before returning to their beloved underground status.
Overall, the indirect approach proves exceptionally effective in capturing the sly spirit of Pavement, whose sense of humor and formal experimentation are fully on display, and of bands in general, as Perry shows little interest in delving into the personal lives of its members outside of their Stockton, California, roots, in favor of watching Malkmus, Scott "Spiral Stairs" Kannberg, Mark Ibold, Steve West, and Bob Nastanovich merge into something greater than the sum of their parts. The film risks tiring the audience.
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