Movie: The Sparks Brothers

I remember Sparks from the late 70s, early 80s. I remember seeing them and thinking "Hey, this looks like something I would be into!", but once I heard their music I realized it wasn't my cup of tea. I was very much into Devo and Kraftwerk back then. They were the bands that reshaped my ear holes so I could listen to different kinds of music. Sparks just wasn't different enough.

Suddenly, Sparks is a thing again. The Drafthouse has been mercilessly hyping this documentary for months. Trailers before every movie. Letterpress postcards. Edgar Wright's favorite Sparks songs in the pre-show reels. There's a new Adam Driver movie at Cannes written by Sparks.

My counter-suggestibility was triggered by all of that, so I wasn't going to see this documentary.

Then friends said it was actually a good movie. I had nothing better to do on a Tuesday night, so I saw it.

I hope Edgar Wright never makes a documentary about the real Hitler, because somehow he made me a Sparks fan.

At the beginning I was entertained but still dismissive of their music. I enjoyed the enthusiasm of the project but not the subject of it. But over the course of two hours and twenty minutes, something changed. My perspective shifted. I can't really explain it. Perhaps I have been hypnotized.

Aside from its persuasive power, what makes it a good movie? Emotional engagement. The enthusiasm of the fans, and Edgar Wright, is contagious. The Mael brothers' gumption is endearing. I used to have a home studio, where I made little songs. I loved expensive food too much to be a full time musician, though, so I put all that on hold (for 20 years now) while raising a kid and programming computers. Watching them refuse to take "no" for an answer for 50 years is inspiring. It made me think about dusting off the old TG77 and K2000RS.

But one question remains unanswered:

Why is the first "S" in "Sparks" an "f"?