Talking Heads: “Time has not affected the film”

It was April 1984 and it was not possible to know that this would be the Talking Heads' last tour, nor could it be known that that film, Stop Making Sense, would be considered one of the best adaptations of a concert to the big screen (if not best), an award that they still hold thanks to the work of a director, Jonathan Demme, who did not know that he would win five Oscars with The Silence of the Lambs.

Oliver Thansan
Oliver Thansan
02 March 2024 Saturday 09:37
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Talking Heads: “Time has not affected the film”

It was April 1984 and it was not possible to know that this would be the Talking Heads' last tour, nor could it be known that that film, Stop Making Sense, would be considered one of the best adaptations of a concert to the big screen (if not best), an award that they still hold thanks to the work of a director, Jonathan Demme, who did not know that he would win five Oscars with The Silence of the Lambs.

Forty years later, the film shot over four nights in December 1983 at the Pantage Theater in Hollywood returns to the big screen in a restored high-definition version that will premiere in theaters this March 8 to the delight of fans. of the New York band, who have reunited two decades later to meet the press on the occasion of the re-release.

“That person is very strange, someone I haven't been for many years, but he is intense, very intense,” says David Byrne when asked about his memories of that concert.

His face appears on the computer screen from what looks like his house. Also present from their respective homes are Jerry Harrison and the couple formed by Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouht, both together on the other side of the connection.

“I feel enormous pride in this legacy,” adds the Talking Heads drummer, happy because “people can see in the future what we did, a tremendously good show.”

Without crowds or special effects, the film represents one of the concerts from the Speaking in Tongues tour in 1983. With a careful production that focuses on the stage, music and musicians become absolute protagonists since Byrne appears alone on stage, armed with a guitar and a radio cassette for the rhythms of Psycho Killer, opening from which the rest of the band will be added, one per song, accompanied by the parts of a stage that is built as the performance progresses.

“We did something similar on a previous tour,” says Byrne, “so it was a natural progression: can we start with one, then two, three? Can we build a story like this? Can we do the same thing with the stage, the instruments, the lights and everything else? Can we make everything invisible and then make it transparent?”

The workers set up the stage while the band joins in on the songs until there are a total of nine musicians in a minimalist space where the lights and the rest of the effects “could have been made in the 1930s.”

“The result is of a timeless quality, there is nothing that corresponds to the 80s,” highlights Jerry Harrison of the set design, for which they renounced the latest technology of the moment such as varilites, the mobile lights that began to be used in those years. . Their reference was the summer stock theaters, traditional removable stages where seasonal shows are held, a minimalist concept that invades the entire show from its conception, as proven by the fact that the platforms where the instruments were moved were manufactured by the family carpenters of a team member. “There was no fancy work needed, or anything that could only be done with lasers.”

“We came from New York, and what was fashionable there was minimalism in the visual arts as a continuation of pop art,” notes Chris Frantz.

“We just walked out on stage and turned on the lights, nothing overly fancy. “We felt like we could keep the audience’s attention with our personalities, our performances and interactions.”

The result is a film “that doesn't try to distract you from what the musicians are doing with what happens on stage, but rather lets you see and feel the people who are up there.”

In this sense, Byrne highlights Demme's work, which is very far from the aesthetics of 1980s music videos, full of cuts and syncopation. “I wanted the audience to spend time watching the band, seeing what was happening and cutting only what was essential,” which is why in songs like Once in a Lifetime there are hardly any cuts, almost half of the song is shown in a single shot of camera, “something you would never do in a video clip.”

An aesthetic very far removed from the then newborn MTV, but Talking heads were not considered part of the mainstream. “We always felt like outsiders, although we were not opposed to putting on a great show, we just had a perspective that came more from modern art.”

For Chris Frantz, the most interesting thing about this new viewing of the film has been to see that it is “as beautiful as any film you can see today,” and he compares it to Taylor Swift's videos. “The contrast couldn't be stranger, there are too many quick cuts, too much of what we might call filmic activity instead of the necessary personal activity.”

That is why he considers that, as with Bogart's Casablanca, the passage of time has not made a dent in the filming. “And the script is just as confusing as in Stop making sense,” adds Tina Weymouth to the laughter of the entire group. “It makes you want to see it because it seems like a dream, something more similar to the human condition, we are not orderly or organized.”

Five musicians accompanied the band at the concert, where the band's hits such as 'Burning down the house' or 'Take me to the river' were played, as well as songs from 'Genius of love' by Tom Tom Club, or 'What a day was', recorded solo by David Byrne, songs that were never played in Spain, since the band never played in these parts.

“It was difficult to open up to places that didn't understand rock'n'roll,” says Weymouth, supported by her partner, who remembers that then there were no festivals like those in Benicàssim or Primavera Sound.

“When we went to play in Greece or Sicily we had a lot of problems with the police, we played on soccer fields and the fans thought they should behave like they were in a game,” which included throwing objects at them on stage.

“In Sicily the carabinieri carried weapons and paraded in front of the audience, it was very intimidating.” Jerry remembers how the police “after drinking with us backstage and shooting in the air, they ate all our food; Then they allegedly dedicated themselves to protecting us.”

These situations, and others such as the launching of gas grenades at concerts, led the band's representatives to consider that those countries were not ready to receive rock bands, "playing under these conditions became uncomfortable."

“Our agents were British,” Frantz points out, “they didn't understand the Latin heat.” “It's a shame the band broke up so soon, 1984 should have been the year we traveled to Spain.”

Although they released three more albums, 1984 marked the end of live performances for Talking Heads, a decision that leaves in the air what they could have done if they had continued performing. “It's impossible not to think about it,” reflects Jerry Harrison, “we made three more records, and of course we thought about how they could have been presented.”

The doubt has reached the present, "we have asked ourselves many questions about doing another tour, but right now we are focused on the presentation of 'Stop making sense', this film has given us the joy of getting together again to see one of our successes.”

“One way to look at it is that we are taking baby steps,” says Chris Frantz from the other side of the screen, “doing a tour would be a giant step, and for now I am happy taking baby steps. But who knows what can happen in the future.”

Meanwhile, David Byrne remains silent and looks away.