Half Japanese: The Band that Would Be King Reviews

Filmmaker Jeff Feuerzeig's rockumentary on the bizarre pop music of cult band Half Japanese is a pleasantly mixed effort. Filled with interviews, performance footage, and reverential testimonials to the band's greatness, the film sometimes seems like a parody--an underground version of THIS IS SPINAL TAP. But, tracing the group's 18-year journey through the rock underground, the film is funny and loving, and even raises intriguing issues about the recording industry. Working in chronological order, HALF JAPANESE begins with the group's genesis. The band was formed in 1977 by brothers Jad and David Fair who, unable to play instruments but clearly in love with rock, began writing noisy, naive pop songs. Feuerzeig uses interviews to describe the brothers' gradual evolution. Rock critic Byron Coley talks of his joyous amazement at hearing their first record, "Calling All Girls." Almost choking back laughter, record exec Gerard Cosloy makes the outrageous claim that band after band on MTV has "copped" Half Japanese's look and sound. Their mother, Ann Fair, earnestly reminices about the boys' "big break"--a record deal for a box set of low-fi recordings. And magician Penn Jillette talks about how his devotion to the group led him to put out their records. Accompanying all this effusive talk--which evolves at times into critical discussion of the record industry--is live footage of the band. As he leads a recording session and rooftop concert singing songs like "Red Dress" and "Roman Candles," frail Jad Fair has an excited little-kid charm. He dances spasmodically in front of a mic, clapping in a time all his own, singing two-chord songs with lines like "One million kisses for one million girls." Tone is a problem for HALF JAPANESE: THE BAND THAT WOULD BE KING. There are moments sure to leave viewers wondering if they are watching a sham. Coley and Cosloy are so hyperbolic they border on the facetious. The line between reality and parody gets further blurred when stuttering Jad confesses: "The thing I would most like to be remembered for would be writing the most popular song in the history of the world. I think I've done some songs that come very close." He's probably joking, but who knows? Feuerzeig never really decodes his soft-spoken hero's naivete. And that may be precisely his intention--like Half Japanese's music, the film confounds expectations.