Stop Making Sense

Stop Making Sense ★★★★★

An oversized-suit wearing, slick-haired, sweat-drenched, madly lovable frontman and his equally peppy, fascinating band mates, dancing and singing for a crisp 90 minutes is all it takes to dissolve my stress for the day.

The enthusiasm is infectious, euphoria and joy run high and the only vibes here are good vibes because Jonathan Demme's masterful concert film Stop Making Sense will make you head bob till you get a concussion, your feet tap till it's sore and make you grin, cheek to cheek, feeling nothing but happiness. David Byrne's haphazard movements flows with his equally electric stage presence, exuding charisma and charm, catchy song after catch song, keeping us hooked and seated through the runtime. Demme's direction adds layers to this simple premise, his unique use of blocking and mise en scene, blurs the already diminished line between film and documentary. The set list is packed, Tina Weymouth's superb 'stankface' inducing basslines, Chris Frantz's percussion accompanied by Steve Scales varied beats, Jerry Harrison and Bernie Worrell at the keyboard and David Byrne's voice, beautifully helped by Lynn Marbry and Ednah Holt, create a flowering musical tapestry that gushes with a jovial rhythm. Truly brilliant.

Ahh, nothing but good vibes!

Oh, heaven
Heaven is a place
A place where nothing
Nothing ever happens

Larry liked these reviews