Reviewed as part of the 27th Leeds International Film Festival (6-21 Nov,2013)
rating: 4
Dir: Tom Berninger, 2013 Your typical rockumentary is nothing more than a checklist of clichés, a bingo game of boozy excess and unbridled egos. Is there a scene in which we follow the band out from backstage, grinning and gurning to camera as thousands of fans chant their name? Is there a scene in which the drummer speaks candidly for the first time about their addiction or invites us in to admire their paintings; what they call their sanctuary from the pressures of fame? Is there a scene in which the lead singer and guitarist squabble over a suggested key change or songwriting credit, resulting in one -or both- walking out of the band for good, only to return onstage for the final night of the tour? Does anyone, cast member or crew, at any time make the inevitable comparison to This Is Spinal Tap? Forgive the cynical tone but once you've seen one group of four long-haired millionaires tanked up on a tour bus, you've seen 'em all. Mistaken for Strangers, however, seems to have made a fundamental, and indeed fatal, error right from the outset. Its director, Tom Berninger, doesn't profess to be the band's number one fan. The National? Yeah, they're alright, he'll say, but I'm more of a metalhead. Not really my sort of th... What's that? My brother? Why do you want to know about him? It would be neither untrue nor unfair to point out that Tom's moviemaking credentials and laminated backstage pass both spring from the same serendipitous source: his older brother just so happens to be Matt Berninger, lead singer of US indie rock band The National. And so when the band decided to embark on their 2010 High Violet world tour, the task of selecting the most suitable candidate to document the highs and lows of life on the road should surely have started and stopped at the name of Tom Berninger? Surely Tom Berninger, having directed a couple of low budget, ultra-gory horror movies (both, incidentally, sharing the words 'murderous' and 'rampage' in their synopses) would sit atop any self-respecting band's list of must-have filmmakers? Surely Tom Berninger, an artist whose perfect indifference to his subject would prevent him from producing a rambling, five-hour exercise in hagiography, could do nothing else but capture the band at their very peak, preserving them, as though in amber, for millions of years? Or maybe there's another, much simpler reason. As countless articles have previously pointed out, The National are a band of brothers. There are two sets of twins: Scott (bass) and Bryan (drums) Devendorf ; Aaron (guitar and keyboard) and Bryce (guitar) Dessner- and then there's Matt. Perhaps it is this sense of loneliness, or fraternal loyalty, that compelled Matt to book his brother a place on the bus? Or maybe he knew all along that, if you give Tom a camera and tell him to tag along, he would make not only one of the funniest films of the year but also one of the most original rockumentaries ever. Despite sounding suspiciously like the sort of stuff you see splashed across promotional posters (or, worse still, a disclaimer) you do not necessarily have to be a fan of The National to appreciate this film. For the band, with their millions of album sales and legions of screaming fans, plays second fiddle to simpler, more universal themes such as family, fame and failure. For most of the time, the band are a backdrop- a platform or plot contrivance with which to elevate one brother over the other. Or at least, that's how Tom sees it. Although he approaches his filmmaking responsibilities with loud, arm-flailing enthusiasm, he cannot quite hide his resentment of the fact that this - spending your days in interviews and photoshoots, your nights moving from hotels to airports to stadia- is what his brother does for a living. Matt is at home here, Tom is merely a tourist. And so, when the band's tour manager makes things clear, ''You're not a band member, you're a crew member'', you can practically see the rock and roll dream disappearing from behind Tom's eyes. Watching him having to accept this cold, hard truth is both hilarious and heartbreaking. If the film were a work of fiction, the character of Tom Berninger would unquestionably be snapped up by Jack Black. Who else could perfect the role of a sometimes shirtless, often clueless and always tactless roadie screw-up? Who else would ask his subjects such strangely unimportant questions as ''How famous do you think you are?'' or ''Do you get tired when you're on stage?'' Who else would insist, and not without a hint of menace, on having the band members pose in the most insipid '80s album cover-style shots imaginable? It doesn't take long for Tom to make a mistake - not least forgetting to submit a guest list to that evening's venue, thus leaving Werner Herzog and the cast of Lost outside in the cold. And it only takes a little longer for Matt to realise that maybe he's made a mistake, too. Given just how often he appears in front of his own camera, it comes as no surprise to learn that Tom hasn't quite worked out the documentary's direction; all the raw footage so far consists of him apologising, followed by stern, disapproving looks from his older brother. Yet what makes Tom such endearing company (to us, at least) is how earnestly he plays the part of bumbling buffoon with a heart of gold. At times you'd be forgiven for assuming this schtick is all part of a feature-length prank on his older, richer and more famous brother. But then no one seems more annoyed with Tom than himself. Plagued by low self-confidence, he desperately wants to please everyone involved, but can't keep himself out of the picture long enough to do so. When he returns to his parents' house to ask just how he and Matt shared an upbringing yet took such completely different career paths, his folks sigh and choose their words very carefully, as though addressing a particularly sensitive teenager. Which, in a way, they are; with Tom all but explicitly asking which son is their favourite. These scenes have an almost painful poignancy to them, especially when you discover that he's not playing for laughs here - he's genuinely seeking his mother's reassurance. But fear not, National fans! Tom doesn't steal the show entirely. This might not be the warts-and-all rock doc you've become accustomed to, but it is nevertheless revealing in unexpected ways. And, just in case you were wondering when they'd finally get a look-in, there's some incredible, immersive concert footage of the band's performance at the Brooklyn Academy of Music right before the credits. One of the most entertaining -and least pretentious- portraits of a life most of us can only dream of, Mistaken For Strangers certainly won't shake off of any of The National's followers but it may win over an extra few hundred fans. Here's one for starters.