Just over a decade after splitting, indie-rock icons get filmed during 2004 reunion tour.
3-1/2 stars (out of four)
Though Loudquietloud: A Film About the Pixies
does little to explain exactly why the Pixies disbanded in 1993 at the moment they appeared poised for a commercial breakthrough (or why they reunited just as abruptly in 2004), this behind-the-scenes documentary is nonetheless revelatory as it follows the group's first awkward steps toward enjoying its legacy. Opening with its fumbling first rehearsals - as the band tries to relearn songs it hasn't played together for over a decade - and stretching through its U.S. and European tours, the fly-on-the-wall storytelling suggests there are few, if any, lingering tensions between vocalist/songwriter Charles Thompson (a.k.a. Black Francis) and bassist Kim Deal. Following the band through various backstages, tour buses and hotel rooms, the multi-camera footage is intimate and unsparing, presenting a band whose members need the tour even more than the fans want it. Unexpectedly, the massively successful tour becomes only a subtext for exploring how much the members have changed since their first go-round.
Thompson is cast as the unflappable soon-to-be father, working on his second marriage while cranking out solo albums. Outwardly unfazed by the rapturous response at every stop, he is given the film's most sustained focus, making time for interviews and playing with his step-kids while seemingly unable to tell his bandmates he'd like to make another Pixies album. Sober for the first time in her adult life, Deal is disarmingly giddy that so may people still care about the Pixies, but she's so nervous to go on the road that she enlists sister (and Breeders bandmate) Kelley to accompany her. Lead guitarist Joey Santiago is a quiet family man who now scores soundtracks, missing the birth of his second child to do a tour he admits he needs to keep the family afloat. Having traded his drumsticks for a magician's wand, David Lovering is the films tragic figure, struggling with his father's death while sinking into valium abuse and unresolved grief. The fact that the band members hardly talk to each other backstage and travel in separate buses indicates that maybe not all of the old wounds have healed, but the live performances appear to suffer little because of it.
As the band members seem to have no interest in reliving their glory days, and the filmmakers only sparingly incorporate archival footage, very little exposition is included and the uninitiated might not really understand what the fuss is about. The emerging picture is one purely rooted in the present tense, capturing family members and star-struck fans interacting with a band that seems hesitant to fully enjoy its moment. Just as there are not group infighting captured, there are no group hugs or celebratory moments, either. That the band members care about each other is strongly implied - from Deal's cheerleading to Thompson's pushing away the camera when Lovering is in a compromised state - but few traditionally feel-good moments emerge. Ultimately, it's a more nuanced approach than that of typically superficial tour documentaries, and as the narrative wanders from hero worship, it ends up at a point where a more human, vulnerable and engaging portrayal comes into focus.