Film celebrates ‘disgusting’ band Gwar as a boundary-breaking pioneer
When the outlandish, costumed metal-punk band Gwar first hit the scene in Richmond, Va., the band was impossible to describe. Nearly four-decades later, the best definition is still its onomatopoeic battle cry of a name. It sounds like a dinosaur on crack, and that’s often exactly what an audience got at a show.
Now, director Scott Barber’s “This Is Gwar,” screening at the Alamo Drafthouse in Katy July 20, sheds light on a group many people know of but don’t really know. The documentary starts with the founding of the band by art school students Dave Brockie, later known as singer Oderus Urungus, and Hunter Jackson, a costume designer who played Gwar’s onstage antagonist Techno Destructo.
From the very beginning, the outfit was more art collective than musical group. Brockie was already famous around Richmond for such stage antics as filling a piñata with quarters and cat feces, happily watching people dig through the filth for money.
The film shows how Gwar quickly became one of the great underground acts, a true original that mixed punk and metal with incredible art and onstage storytelling. In the ’80s and ’90s, the band was transgressive, taking on the rising Moral Majority with pointed and disgusting stunts.
One thing that “This Is Gwar” pleasantly accomplishes is showing how important Texas was to the success of the band. Three band members hailed from Dallas, including one of the group’s best guitarists, Pete Lee (Flattus Maximus). Not only did Lee significantly up the band’s metal chops, he added to its onstage legend by performing while wearing a colostomy bag after he was shot while on tour.
Animator and director Mike Judge’s
contributions to the band’s fame get a nod as well. Despite being a band famous for video content (the band received a Grammy nomination for “Phallus in Wonderland”), it had a hard time getting on MTV. Judge, who had a runaway success with “Beavis and Butt-Head,” put Gwar videos into the show, bringing the band to a wider audience. Later, in the “Beavis and Butt-Head” video game, the heroes journey to a Gwar concert at the Astrodome.
The early days of Gwar shown in the film are invigorating and magical, showing a collective willing to be the exact opposite of everything mainstream America was and still carve out a niche. Unfortunately, the latter half reveals what happens when the world that Gwar opposed moved on.
Though the band’s actual music only got better, the impact and direction faded. Brockie and Jackson split over creative differences and accusations of theft, and the band grew more directionless. In a way, Gwar was a victim of its own success. Having pushed the envelope so far, there were no more people to offend.
Gwar, like metal itself, retreated and grew insular. Brockie increasingly abused drugs, eventually dying of a heroin overdose in 2014. An attempt to update the band with a female lead singer went poorly. Kim Dylla (Vulvatron) barely appears in the documentary, and her messy exit from the band is completely overlooked.
Still, it’s a fascinating chronicle of a band that went places even most metal acts wouldn’t go. Gwar’s crusade against hypocrisy and the consumer culture of the 1980s was disgusting, but also pointed and nuanced. “This Is Gwar” elevates the group to the level of counter-culture heroism that it deserves.