Comedies don’t get more uproarious than This Is Spinal Tap. The 1984 rockumentary has transcended its modest origins and settled into cinematic Hall of Fame status, amassing an enormous fanbase of the beloved — and typically hapless — death metal band across the globe. Amplifiers that go up to eleven, inadequate green room snacks, frequently getting lost backstage, a litany of mysteriously dying drummers, the notorious censored artwork for the Black Album cover, a massive faux pas involving the imperial measurement system and stage design, ballads about voluptuous derrieres: the list of classic bits is endless. It’s arguably Rob Reiner’s finest film, and also delivers the strongest efforts of co-leads Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer, who found further success in Guest the director’s series of semi-improvisational mockumentary films Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, and A Mighty Wind. A film as extraordinary as This Is Spinal Tap is best left to bask in its Elysian fields of cinema glory, which is why it’s so strange to now have a follow-up four decades later with Spinal Tap II: The End Continues. Much like this summer’s previously released Happy Gilmore 2, nostalgia is the name of the game here, the film reveling in former glories while offering a belated victory lap for the original. But Reiner, who returns to direct and shares screenwriting duties with Guest, McKean, and Shearer, isn’t able to recapture the gonzo magic of This is Spinal Tap, as this follow-up can at times resemble a feature-length Super Bowl commercial more than anything else. It’s not a terrible film — its hard to not at least modestly enjoy the company — but it is a wholly unnecessary one, and yet another potent reminder that not everything needs a sequel.
40 years after he premiered This Is Spinal Tap to dismal critical and audience response, filmmaker Marty Di Bergi (Reiner) is putting together another documentary, this time charting Spinal Tap’s reunion concert as the band gets back together for one final show in The Big Easy. The group has been long disbanded in the decades since, following a severe falling out between lead guitarist Nigel Tufnel (Guest) and lead vocalist David St. Hubbins (McKean), sending the three men off on divergent career paths. For Nigel, he runs a cheese and guitar shop in Northern England, where customers can barter for guitars with massive blocks of cheese, and vice versa. David has relocated to California, where he currently produces songs for murder mystery podcasts and telephone hold music, even winning a “Holdie” for his troubles. Meanwhile, bassist Derek Mears (Shearer) has pursued his fascination of glue with a glue shop in the south of London, offering a host of adhesive wares with exotic origins, such as a product made from a tortoise on the Galápagos Islands. (He also hawks cryptocurrency on the side.) Under the guidance of Hope Faith (Kerry Godliman), daughter of former band manager Ian Faith (Tony Hendra, who passed away in 2021), and concert promoter Simon Howler (Chris Addison), Spinal Taps heads to New Orleans to prep for their final show, which is just a mere few weeks away. Joined by new drummer Didi Crockett (Valerie Franco) and keyboardist Caucasian Jeff (C.J. Vanston), the band gets to work rehearsing, while Nigel and David continue their longstanding feud, hoping to squash any beef before the night of the show.
After the table setting and pleasantries are dispensed with, the entirety of Spinal Tap II is devoted to prep for the final concert, adding a ticking clock element as the three aged rockers work out the kinks and revisit their old classics. Marty also spends some time catching up with participants of the previous film, including publicist Bobbi Flekman (Fran Drescher), now the CEO of a company called “Influential Influencers.” Footage of the previous film is doled out liberally, but Reiner and co. aren’t looking to spend too much time wallowing in the past, confidently moving forward as they present new mishaps for the band to endure as the reunion concert steadily approaches. The members aren’t quite as limber as they used to be, necessitating a visit from fitness guru Bob Kitness (John Michael Higgins), while Hope and Simon explore potential business opportunities with the show, including selling tap water in a bottle shaped like Stonehenge or even arranging the death of one of the band members to drive up audience numbers. Disasters extend to the stage as well, with the nadir being a gigantic farting prop to be used alongside “Big Bottom.” Cameo appearances have also increased exponentially, finding the guys checking in with Questlove, Chad Smith, and Lars Ulrich to potentially fill the role of the band’s ill-fated drummer before settling on Didi, who hopes to break the deadly curse. Paul McCartney also swings by the studio to offer his own wisdom, and Elton John even agrees to appear on stage to aid in a rendition of “Stonehenge” (complete with a proper-sized monument).
If any of the above sounds like a side-splittingly good time, then run, don’t walk to the nearest screening of Spinal Tap II: The End Continues. But the fact of the matter is that most diehard fans of This is Spinal Tap will have become so due to its singular comedic style, and so are likely to find this sequel to be slightly amusing at best, and utterly lame at worst. It’s difficult to justify the film’s existence from conception, and even more so because it cuts things off rather abruptly, as the it doesn’t end so much as it just… stops. Still, there are admittedly some pleasures to be had in watching Guest, McKean, and Shearer share the screen together again, making for amiable company even while buried under their hideous wigs. McKean, a natural comedy sniper, easily scores the film’s best lines; for instance, when David is discussing the prospects of performing a “ghost tour,” he suggests they can only play their shows at night because “in the daytime, ghosts are just rumors.” There’s also a decent running gag where their rented New Orleans property is continuously interrupted by a local ghost tour (led by Don Lake). Brevity also works in favor of Spinal Tap II, which runs a quick 84 minutes including credits, knowing better at least than to prolong its unsolicited homecoming. But the lack of any pronounced gut-busting moments — the calling card of the original — makes the entire ordeal feel like an exercise in wasted potential, and is a tough hurdle to clear with regard to justifying the film’s existence. To put it in Spinal Tap terms, this one does not go up to eleven.
DIRECTOR: Rob Reiner; CAST: Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, Harry Shearer, Rob Reiner, Fran Drescher; DISTRIBUTOR: Bleecker Street; IN THEATERS: September 12; RUNTIME: 1 hr. 23 min.
Comments are closed.