Some Kind of Monster is a documentary about a 50-year-old record producer named Bob Rock whose rockstar aspirations finally look like they’ll be fulfilled when he’s asked to play bass during a 2003 Metallica record’s studio sessions. In Act 1, Bob Rock thinks he’s made it, and is legitimately in Metallica now – it sure looks like all the work he did producing the band since their fifth record in 1991 is finally going to pay off. But in Act 2, Bob Rock is crushed by the realization that the main Metallica guy does not respect him as a peer, and just views him as “part of the business.” Finally in Act 3, Bob Rock sort of skulks away, and is replaced by full-time “real” bass player, Rob Trujillo. Metallica celebrates Rob Trujillo joining the group by giving him one million dollars and debuting his membership in the group during their induction into MTV’s “Icons” series. (To date, the other MTV “Icons” are Janet Jackson (2001), Aerosmith (2002), and The Cure (2004).)
The movie ends happily with Bob Rock and Metallica amicably going their separate ways. Metallica continues to be a business that generates a large amount of revenue, and Bob Rock moves on to producing many more albums for other “successful business”-level bands who maybe appreciate him a little bit more. During a series of asides throughout Some Kind of Monster that don’t include Bob Rock, the other members of Metallica process the particular trauma and cursedness of “having reached success of a certain level” in their own ways. By recording a record together, they also gesture at the one-time importance of the creative process to the matter of their relationships with one another, and to the ongoing business they continue to run together.
Bob Rock’s pathos derives from the extent to which the fact that he is not a true peer to the rest of the group is achingly obvious to everyone but him. He’s a pure industry hand, focused on getting the record done so that everyone can get paid. His contributions to the recording sessions focus on helping the group identify moments in their jams or brainstorms that are or could be developed into song parts that might read as credibly “Metallica.” As he does so, the rest of the group takes on an air of condescension; Bob has a decent palate for what could be credibly Metallica, sure, but he absolutely lacks the ability to summon authentic Metallica himself. In this way Bob Rock reads like a studio assistant who thinks that it is he who is “really” making some artist’s work, while failing to realize that the work is located in the idea, not the gruntwork of rendering it. As Omar S iconically put it: “You cannot copy Omar S style, you can only copy a song that has already been produced by Omar S.”
“It’s really healthy for me to be here, away from anything related to the band or anyone who would remind me of the band. And recognize what’s real.”
Kirk Hammett (Metallica; lead guitar)
Some Kind of Monster has three ideal audiences. Metallica fans, Metallica haters, and anyone who’s dipped their toes into artistic stuff on any level. All three can find a lot to like in this documentary about a famous metal band trying to make a record, and needing the help of an extremely expensive therapist to finish it. For the fans, there’s intimate behind the scenes footage of their favorite band making a record. For the haters, there’s intimate behind the scenes footage of a gaggle of fools making a terrible record. For creatives, there’s a hefty document about a group of people exploring the creative process b/w an illustration of how tying your personal worth to being creative can be destructive.
I can’t take the fans’ perspective, because Metallica are mostly bad (RIP Cliff), and I’ll skip the haters’ viewpoint, though I gotta say that the view from there is very nice… highlights include Hetfield explaining to Urlich that usually the drummer provides the beat; Hammett having a meltdown because they’re removing guitar solos from the record; and the bonus feature where they make a rap-rock song with Ja Rule. As a card-carrying underground musician, though, I’m in a good spot to speak about what Some Kind of Monster means to me on that level.
I used to say that Some Kind of Monster was the best movie about what it’s like to actually be in a band, which was irresponsible hyperbole (my opinions now though… are very good ). In 2003 the men of Metallica have some good qualities(?), but “platonic ideal of a band” they are not. There’s too much noise between them now, all necessary to keep the business of being in a huge band going. So maybe it’s the best movie about business mediation? I dunno, but it is a pretty good movie about what it takes to get people to do something creatively together when they have completely lost interest in actually doing the “art” part of their successful ostensibly art-driven business. You get the sense that most bands at this stage would throw in the towel or take a break, but Metallica to its credit soldiers through. After hundreds of thousands of dollars of therapy and two years in the studio, we the people receive the fruits of their sacrifice: one not very good record, and one pretty good movie.
Some Kind of Monster was in pretty heavy rotation as a source of conversation amongst the dudes of underground music for a while. Probably due to the fact that it’s a very funny movie about a band that the world considers successful who are more or less exposed as being shams, but also because it’s a really deep and honest dive into feelings of male inadequacy that can come from being a musician. This is the movie that has Dave Mustaine from Megadeth talking about how being kicked out of Metallica and then immediately forming the second biggest metal band in the world ruined his life. It also features the nightmare of Lars’s dad, a wizard with impeccable taste, who can see through his son’s band’s bullshit completely, and has no qualms about calling him out on it, something obviously very hurtful to his son. There’s also the sequence where Metallica goes to their ex-bassist Jason Newstead’s new band’s gig, who they kicked out for wanting to do a record with that band. Jason ghosts Metallica after the show, but they still stick around to mope about how they can’t finish their record, and how the guy they kicked out is playing a gig in a medium/small venue. There are plenty of other examples of this, in this tale of three dudes who tied their self-worth to their band, but have no way of accurately measuring its success anymore.
I’ve mentioned that the record they make sucks, which is true (see what I said earlier about my opinions). This is non-important for the music in the world, but great for the film. If they had made something great after this whole thing, I really doubt the the movie would have been such a compelling document. “Famous band tries really hard to make a good record then succeeds after dipping into endless resources” is not a storyline for a movie. Probably the most important revelation they make is that they realize how bad it is and make peace with it (though it is possible that they’re able to filter out the muted expressions of every person they let hear the record, and the recommendation to “Delete the album” from a certain band member’s dad). What ends up being important to them is that at the end of the recording they seem personally refreshed, and that they like each other more. Whether or not they’re the people who deserve this is an open question that I’m not qualified to answer (if you’re interested in seeing a similar dynamic play out with genuinely likable people, I recommend Anvil!: The Story of Anvil (2008)), but we definitely deserve what we’re left with – an authentic high comedy about known characters shown to be fools, who receive a happy ending against all odds. In other words, a delightful farce.