Religulous

There are three things you’re not supposed to talk about in polite society: sex, politics and religion. Religion is easily the most controversial and inflammatory of the three, combining issues of sex and politics with dangerous elements of faith and fundamentalism. Political humorist Bill Maher attempts to tackle this most sensitive topic in his brash, opinionated documentary ‘Religulous’. Those familiar with Maher’s abrasive wit may be apprehensive about whether his mischievous hands are equipped to handle such delicate subject matter.

The main problem with Maher’s documentary is that he makes too little an effort to conceal his obvious disdain for religion in all its varied forms. Although it’s less offensive when he finds deserving targets for scorn and derision, we often find ourselves left to watch him bully and belittle people about their most intimate beliefs. The victims of Maher’s mocking cynicism are mostly inarticulate and quite incapable of defending themselves or their ‘irrational’ beliefs from his onslaught. Maher chooses to forsake constructive dialogue and debate in favour of the more entertaining tactics of deliberately provoking and antagonising. This exploitative approach of exposing handpicked stupidity uses too many cheap laughs to make its heavy-handed points about the failings of religion.

‘Religulous’ is not an objective investigation of issues; instead it is simply a blunt statement of the personal opinions of its creators. Like Michael Moore’s ‘Fahrenheit 9/11’, ‘Religulous’ fails as a documentary by allowing itself to be transparently agenda driven. At times, Maher displays exactly the same opinionated arrogance which he himself finds so objectionable in the religious followers he encounters. His motives are not to inspire his audience to ask questions, but to convince us of his own conclusions. Such an attitude would perhaps be more forgivable if the film provided a more substantial examination of the complex social and historical factors surrounding religion, rather than just a superficial glance.

It is admittedly satisfying to see Televangelist con-men dressed in $2000 suits and gold jewellery ridiculed as they should be. However, it is hard not to feel that more creditable theologians would have proved to be a more informative and thought provoking subject matter for ‘Religulous’. The film entirely avoids any debate or discussions about the existence of God as its sole preoccupation is in establishing the collective failings of organized religion. It is a gross oversimplification to blame religion for all mankind’s wars, prejudice and stupidity. There is also a mistake in equating all religious and philosophical beliefs with literal interpretations of arcane religious texts. The narrow scope of Maher’s unsophisticated and generic criticisms place firm limits on the film’s ability to accomplish anything meaningful.

Maher’s more intelligible encounters, along with his flashes of genuine wit and well occasioned sarcasm keeps ‘Religulous’ watchable. However, the film is likely to polarize audiences rather than inform or persuade them. People who agree with Maher’s assertions of the evils and insanity of religion will no doubt be more entertained and empowered by the film than those who find their faith and traditions crudely challenged by it.

Anvil: The Story of Anvil

It is impossible to talk about the story of Anvil without referencing the well known and eternally popular spoof rock-umentary “This is Spinal Tap”. The two films are essentially identical as they follow a likeable but ludicrous heavy metal band on its painful descent from the cusp of fame back to the depths of grim forgotten obscurity. The band itself has just enough witless charm and musical talent to make their increasingly implausible delusions of rock star grandeur not only bearable, but endearing. There is only one difference between the two films, the story of Anvil is entirely real, making it more tragically painful and by turns hilarious than its fictitious counterpart.

At their peak, Canadian speed metal pioneers Anvil shared festival stages with global megastars who still hail them today as inspirations. But while those bands went on to sell millions of records and live out the rock dream, Anvil watched it all slip away. Three decades of mismanagement and misadventures had reduced them to playing in empty bars to tiny crowds of friends and family. But in the face of depressing reality, financial ruin and non-existent support Anvil has kept on rocking past the point of all reason and almost to the brink of insanity.

Like the protagonists of Spinal Tap, Anvil’s singer ‘Lips’ and guitarist Rob Reiner are childhood friends who share a vision of rock greatness that seems destined to escape them. Their bickering and casual philosophising are unknowingly hysterical if occasionally tainted by genuine sadness and despair. Beneath the leather and flowing manes of thinning hair, their wide eyed enthusiasm is simply overpowering as they lurch from one disaster to the next. It’s impossible not to find yourself rooting for them while at the same time feeling sorry for their poor families, who provoke sympathy similar to that bestowed upon the wives of alcoholics. But, few things are more infectious than confidence in the face of certain and utter failure. As complete underdogs, Anvil has a startling power to enthral audiences with a potent mix of pity and affection.

It’s compelling to watch as the band embarks on the most disastrous European tour imaginable and struggles against all odds to release their ‘masterpiece’ album. At times it’s hard to believe events so perfectly scripted and such absurd characters can possibly be real. While the band clearly plays up to the cameras and revels in the novelty of attention, their desperate tragedy and obsessive passion simply cannot be faked. Anvil are the sort of brilliant failures that can only be born not invented. A rare breed to be cherished.

Celebrity fan Keanu Reeves flew to London just to introduce this film at its festival premiere. When the band took to the stage to rock after the credits rolled, it’s hard to describe the pure joyous rapture that greeted them. So, put your fist in the air, crank the volume to eleven and enjoy what is perhaps the greatest rock documentary of all time.