carol’s review published on Letterboxd:
"in Stop Making Sense, david byrne dances with a lamp at the end of 'This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)'. you might think he looks like a drunk child having a fight with a light, but that's part of byrne's deceptive genius. if anything, you just don't see enough men dancing with lamps these days."
one would think after watching this 24 times in so little time you'd finally be able to at least try and put your feelings about something you're clearly so passionate about and find dearly to you into actual words. that's not what this one is about.
when i first watched this about two months ago, i had acquired to myself the "regular talking heads knowledge", but david byrne had always spoken to me in a way or another; a man who's so genuinely inspired by and invested in music and art in general; not many artists manage to enlighten you as much as he does when putting his ideas into perspective onto the world. He makes it special.
stop making sense feels like a miracle, a statement of enormous energy, of life lived at a joyous high; it hits at a narrative arc, while making it unimportant. it's a live performance recorded and packaged specifically for consumption as a film. in its brief runtime, from the moment he walks on stage armed only with an acoustic guitar and that nervous energy and detached emotion with a hint of subdued minimalism you could perceive at the start of the talking heads' career, it becomes a living, breathing, sweating testament to david byrne's deceptive genius and skill not only as a performer, but as a songwriter, a storyteller, and to the remarkable and inimitable talents of every member of talking heads. a breathtakingly, sincere and life changing experience, the kind that makes you intermittently stop for a moment and question the existence of the artist. a masterpiece that without doubt needs to be experienced at least once. it's no wonder this film has been praised and hailed to this day as one of the greatest concert films of all time.
i cant remember the last time i watched a recording of a live performance that captured the same brand and amount of energy, of chemistry, of buoyancy, that makes you feel like you're leaving a great communal experience. a masterpiece that proclaims as loudly as possible that there is, and never will be, no joy greater that making art with the people you love.
with all this being said, if you're either not a talking heads fan, have little to no knowledge about them, whatever it might be; please watch this and i promise you soon will be.