The Metallica 3-D movie shoot: a skeptic's report on The Full Arsenal

I attended the $5 Metallica 3-D movie shoot "concert" last night, more out of curiosity than passion; as I say below, I've never really liked Metallica, but some part of me has heard so much praise for the band that I've always half-suspected I was missing out on something, compelling me to listen to their albums occasionally, hoping I might get them. I wanted to put this feeling to rest for once and for all - to either emerge a convert, or feeling that I had at least done justice to the experience of considering them, so I could think no more on this band.

While I did enjoy bits last night, it is the latter conclusion that I reached, somewhat to my relief - I can ill-afford $40 Metallica t-shirts, which seems to be a key part of what being part of the "Metallica family" is all about; admission to the clan is not cheap. No wonder, either: last night's show was a very expensive spectacle, a celebration of wealth and excess which started at midway to overwhelm the music, almost like they were compensating for some perceived lack (the building of the statue of Lady Justice was, in particular, unnecessary and distracting and kind of silly, with the apparent subtext being, "this band has far too much money"). My friend Blake correctly predicted that they would topple the thing before "And Justice For All" ended, unfooled by the illusion they tried to create that the pieces were at all heavy or dangerous (he guessed it was foam rubber, probably correctly). It's possible I was too busy futzing with my cellphone camera - I kind of hate how compulsively and frequently I found myself taking photographs - to really appreciate the effect. Maybe it will work better in the movie...

There were, however, some very effective and interesting bits of stagecraft, too - the simulated warfare (done with the sound of helicopters, explosions, pyro effects, and lasers) before "One" was rather terrifying and apropos of the song, like the band wanted us to have the experience of being underneath an airstrike. Thanks for that, Metallica - I've always wanted to know how it feels to cringe in fear from falling bombs and napalm, and now I kind of do. If that wasn't taking things too far, there was also a video of people trapped in the enormous overhead "coffins," pounding hysterically, trying to get out, throughout the song "Cyanide," which was rather over-the-top in the "unnecessary nastiness" category; the woman "in" the coffin that we had the best view of did an excellent job of simulating total terror, writhing, screaming, hammering on the lid. How it was meant to augment the song is anyone's guess - it was like Metallica were staging a sort of unsubtle mind-war on their audience - but it was definitely a powerful, upsetting image...

There were ample delays, as warned - including a few unscheduled ones, one of which seemed to involve an apparent spat, though between whom I cannot say: a song fizzled, with Hetfield taking off his guitar rather abruptly and Lars storming off, making exaggerated shrugging gestures, saying into the mike, "I'm only the drummer," to communicate his disgust at something I for one had not perceived in the slightest; his ego, apparently, has become part of the show. (No doubt this scene will be edited out of the final movie, which is fair enough: the world already has one warts-and-all Metallica movie, and as great a documentary as it is, we certainly don't need another). It was odd throughout to watch Ulrich drum, in fact, as he seems to have evolved a very expressive, theatrical style that is all about making his experience visible to distant audience members; while any given photograph of him probably looks cool as hell, such a performance would look rather foolhardy, I suspect, in a small club (though who knows, maybe he's just a naturally expressive guy; he's no more expressive than Bison's drummer, though you get the feeling that Matt is expressing his actual feelings about playing, rather than putting on a show for people. There's something really strange about someone simulating, for show, the playing of intense rock music, while actually playing intense rock music; I bet Ulrich could win an air-drumming contest hands down). Because Lars was the static member, his drumkit turning at times but always being stage centre, he was somehow the heart of the experience; otherwise, the stage was so huge - comprising, basically, the entire floor of Rogers Arena - that it was almost like the band wasn't playing together, each off in their own little world with their own private 3-D movie camera. Not many bands perform on stages so large that you can't keep all of them in your field of vision at the same time, such that you lose track of what they're doing and then have to strain to spot the individual members; there was a bit of a "Where's Waldo" effect, as I tried to see during solos where Kirk was, or keep abreast of what James was doing; the only person you reliably knew how to find was Lars.

Speaking of Metallica's members, it was kinda fun to see Robert Trujillo from Suicidal Tendencies and Infectious Grooves - both bands I listen to much more often than Metallica - down there on the stage as the new bassist, wearing his white athletic socks and high-top sneakers. As Blake observed, he looked entirely like a California skate punk, as opposed to the other members, clad in cool-guy black. It was an enjoyable incongruity. I considered calling out "Suicidal!" but it seemed somehow inappropriate...

Though it sounds like it would have been welcome, I confess - ingrate that I am - that I didn't stick around for the "stage malfunction"/ collapse which supposedly led to them doing a few songs in "garage mode." It's telling that the band would need to create a narrative excuse, at this point - so huge has the spectacle around them become - to simply behave like a normal rock band, low-tech and gritty and real, and presumably no longer standing dozens of yards apart - but it would have been entertaining to see. One wonders what they would look/ sound/ feel like if they played The Rickshaw - if they would actually be vastly more impressive, up there on a small stage, working as a unit, bereft of the spectacle - or if minus the illusion, there's really not that much there to get excited about?

While briefly I did get into the spirit of some of their songs, impressed at the energy they could generate amongst a crowd so large, and appreciating the precision of their music - which sounded great, and involved an elaborate overhead speaker set-up that was much less upsetting to the gut than the low-frequency assault that I was exposed to seeing Slayer and Rob Zombie at Rogers, a few years ago - by the time "And Justice for All" closed, I had had enough. We stuck it out for one more song after that, I think. Still, glad to have gone; it's not every day I get to observe this huge-arena mode of rock, plus I can now safely put Metallica to rest: if seeing them last night failed to really move me, I'll never be joining the gravy train, and can concentrate on other things.

Y'all want to see a truly powerful rock band that doesn't require lasers, pyro effects, or foam rubber to make their point? Where the band is actually playing together because they want to make music together, and not because it provides them (and their corporate controllers) millions of dollars in revenue? Where the music is the thing, and not the aura of illusion, spectacle, splendor, and power around it? Then - REALLY - you should come see Swans on September 6th at The Venue. Now *there* is one powerful, genuine, and fucking HEAVY rock band. Metallica is greasy kidstuff by comparison.