A Mighty Wind

Originally, I began writing this review in a Christopher Guest-esque manner, in which I reviewed it as if the musicians were real, and the accompanying “mockumentary” (a term that Guest despises) was a true documentary of those people, but I decided that I wasn’t funny enough – or there just wasn’t enough material to work with – to pull it off successfully. So, I’ll review it “straight”, which I think might do more justice to the music. I think.

A brief synopsis of the film A Mighty Wind is probably necessary to place the music in context. Guest – the genius behind This Is Spinal Tap, Waiting For Guffman, and Best In Show, as well as the evil Six-Fingered Man in The Princess Bride – assembled the same talented actors who have graced his previous films for a lighthearted jab at folk music. There are three bands: the New Main Street Singers, an overwhelmingly good-natured and jovial neuftet, fronted by the husband and wife couple of Terry and Laurie Bohner (John Michael Higgins and Jane Lynch, respectively); Mitch and Mickey (played by Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara), a one-time happily married couple whose romantic and musical relationships dissolved once Mitch “lost the plot”, so to say; and the Folksmen, a trio consisting of Mark Shubb (played by Harry Shearer), Jerry Palter (played by Michael McKean), and Alan Barrows (played by Guest). All but the New Main Street Singers had gone their separate ways over the years, but are coerced back together by Jonathan Steinbloom, son of respected and recently deceased folk music producer Irving Steinbloom, for a tribute concert in his name.

It really is an excellent movie – one of my favorites, in fact – and I was immediately hooked to the music at its conclusion; I purchased the soundtrack on iTunes, and was pleasantly surprised at how authentic and genuine the music was, and that it could very well stand on its own, separate from the context of the movie. My favorite contributions are from the Folksmen, which should excite fans of Spinal Tap as it reunites the trio yet again, but apart from the odd bit of humor thrown into particular lyrics, these should be seen as completely separate entities (though one wishes there was an acoustic version of ‘Big Bottom’, with Guest, Shearer, and McKean jamming away on upright double basses). The Folksmen’s image, sound, and mannerisms were drawn from the Kingston Trio, and while Guest doesn’t make them the emotional center of the album – that’s reserved for Levy and O’Hara – he does give them some of the best material.

Each group has a particular “hit” that they are renowned for: the Folksmen have ‘Old Joe’s Place’; the New Main Street Singers has ‘Never Did No Wanderin”; and Mitch and Mickey have ‘A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow’, which gained notoriety in the film for featuring the duo engaging in a quick peck. These are the songs prominently featured in the film, and establish roles for each group: the Folksmen are more standard folk, with a touch of good humor to them; the New Main Street Singers is good, clean fun, to an almost irritating degree (it certainly annoys McKean’s and Shearer’s characters); and Mitch and Mickey are for lovers – more romantic music that can still be enjoyed by the manliest of men.

Enough exposition, though. What of the actual music? That they were performed by the actors and not by session musicians is fascinating and impressive; it’s obvious that the songwriters – mostly Guest and McKean, though Shearer and Levy contribute considerably – have a genuine love for the music, for there’s nothing that would indicate it being a harsh parody of the genre; there are few jokes and only some pastiche (namely ‘Main Street Rag’ and ‘The Good Book Song’, both, incidentally, by the New Main Street Singers), which helps the songs stand up as actual songs, and not just within the confines of the movie. Guest and company have danced a fine line: if it’s too restrictive and specific to the plot, it makes no sense when listened to independently of the visuals; if it’s too general and far-removed from the plot, they just become songs by actors trying to play folk music.

The last three songs are probably the most essential, with the New Main Street Singers turning in the largely jokey but charming ‘Potato’s In The Paddy Wagon’, of a young girl with “an unfortunate moniker” falling for the local sheriff; ‘A Kiss At The End Of The Rainbow’, a lovely, tender ballad that can make the listener forget that Levy’s brilliantly comedic voice can actually be used for other, equally effective uses; and ‘A Mighty Wind’, the proverbial curtain call that any folky worth his or her banjo strings in the Guestiverse should be able to perform without trouble. It starts off somewhat seriously, sounding like a travelogue of peace and love throughout America, until the final line and punchline, leaving the listener wondering, “Did they really just sing that?”

Luckily for them, and for listeners of the soundtrack, they pulled off the difficult balance between serious and jokey; while I’m personally a fan of folk music, my knowledge of it is severely limited to the big guns: Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, and only the first with any real deep understanding and appreciation. Yet the performances on the soundtrack album are so convincing, so affecting, so good, that it’s inspired me to check out not only some of the deeper cuts of Seeger and Baez, but also (with the assistance of Pandora Radio) discover some of the lesser-known, unsung heroes of folk: the Avett Brothers, Richard and Mimi Fariña, Leo Kottke, Doc Watson, and so on.

So thank you, Guest et al., for A Mighty Wind. And thank you, Pandora, for taking seriously my half-joke of “The Folksmen” as a starting point for a radio station.

Essential listening: the dreaded return of “all of them” … especially if you liked/loved the movie