Title: Air Guitar Nation
Genre: Documentary, nay - Rockumentary
Cast: David Jung, Dan Crane, other weirdos
Director: Alexandra Lipsitz
Release: (2006)
I have to admit, I did not expect to buy what these guys were selling. In fact, when I first considered the prospect of reviewing a movie about grown men competing in professional air guitar contests, the smarmy, condescending reviewer in me might have gotten a little saucer-eyed imagining the possibilities. I can only describe the feeling as the critical equivalent of getting ready to take an old-school, aluminum, 34-32, “Black Magic” Easton into a slow-pitch batting cage to tee of on a steady stream of dork baseballs. But I am a man who can admit when he’s wrong. And though I know this is a phrase that gets tossed around all too casually sometimes, I truly mean it when I say that the rockers in Alexandra Lipsitz’s documentary Air Guitar Nation are more than just dork baseballs.
Well, at least most of them are, but I’ll get back to that later. Air Guitar Nation picks up the story from the very beginning of organized air auitaring in America, around late 2002. After reading a story about the 2001 World Air Guitar Championships in Finland, American heroes Kriston Rucker and Cedric Devitt were appalled to learn that something was going on in the world that America hadn’t been informed of and asked permission for. Recognizing the injustice of this fun, little, local competition having existed for years without our legitimizing presence, Rucker and Devitt quickly used their American ingenuity to set up an official governing body of American Air Guitar and establish a series of qualifiers and final competitions to find the greatest Air Guitarist in America, and send him/her to Finland to kick some global peasant ass and show them who really rocks. (Hint: America rocks, junior).
Director Alexandra Lipsitz grabbed a camera and caught the wave just in time to capture a glimpse into a world full of class clowns, frustrated cubicle dwellers, and conceptual artists who, almost inadvertently, turn air guitar into a borderline religion. As if they’re all afraid to be the one to ruin the gag, founders and participants alike all learn to toe the tongue-in-cheek line when asked about whether or not they can really be serious about this. Eyes darting around coyly, they offer only evasively practiced responses such as, “I have only one motto, and that’s ‘keep it real’”, or (what would go on to be adopted as the film’s tagline), “To err is human. To air guitar, divine.” Somewhere along the way, with everyone afraid to blink first, the lines begin to blur and by the time the first annual U.S. Air Guitar Championships kicks off at the Roxy in L.A., no one can really tell anymore if the event is a really big gig or a really big gag.
Along the way we are introduced to an eclectic cast of characters, including the natural: David “C-Diddy” Jung; the kind of pathetic but cleverly monikered: Dan “Björn Türoque” Crane; and the guy with the coolest job in the world: Ian “The Red Plectrum” Stafford. It is in the budding rivalry between Jung and Crane that this documentary of a movement finds its human drama. Despite the fact that it becomes quickly apparent to everyone (except Crane) that C-Diddy v. Türoque will be a rivalry with all the competitive balance of Hammer v. Nail, it remains an effective pairing for the film’s sake, as anyone trying to understand the siren song of the air guitar movement is likely be stumped by the fact that these two central players could not be more different in every way. Jung is the Brooklyn-raised son of successful, conservative, hard-working immigrant parents who finds a way to bridge the gap between private goofiness and public shyness in the persona of “C-Diddy”. Crane (though we don’t learn as much about his family explicitly), appears by all indications to be the somewhat prodigal son of a wealthy Southern California family who doesn’t know anymore where he begins and Björn Türoque ends. While Jung comes across as surprised by his own success and just itching to talk to someone about how surreal and funny the whole thing is, Crane’s need to be approved and justified by the air guitar community starts to get a little embarrassing to watch and it’s not always clear if he actually understands the joke. His drive to achieve this dream at all cost might have even been admirable, had he been so dedicated to a slightly less preposterous dream. In the end, his own inability to get the joke and show a little more good airmanship in his pursuit of Jung did make Crane the one guy in the whole thing who really did just come off as a total dork baseball. (Though, as a fictional Wes Anderson character, he would be hilarious.)
I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I’m down with the Air Guitar Nation. Perhaps the most convincing argument came from Devitt himself who, in response to a question about how the performers are judged in competitions, was comparing the judges’ scoring system to that of figure skating and added as an afterthought, “It’s probably less absurd to watch than figure skating, if you think about it.” True dat, weirdo, true dat.
Grading
Story: N/A
Acting: N/A
Visuals: B (Standard documentary stuff)
Originality/Innovation: B+ (for content)
Enjoyability: A
Overall: A-
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