I Am Trying to Break Your Heart

Walking into this movie I had no working knowledge of Wilco other than the fact that their latest album, "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot", had received a fair degree of press. Completely untainted by prior convictions I found this movie to be the most fascinating document of artistic creativity and tension ever committed to film. Not only is the music great, but the story surrounding the making of the album is captivating.

This documentary comes as a nice surprise to anyone who has been following the Uncle Tupelo/Sun Volt/Wilco chapter of rock n' roll history being quietly written in the Midwest for the past 15 years. For anyone who is a fan, the film is a must-see. For general fans of rock n' roll it offers a handy introduction to one of the few interesting rock bands in this parched musical era. Judged solely as a documentary film it is a half-hearted effort that scores some points but ultimately doesn't carry its own weight.

First the good: the cinematography, a grainy black and white that is probably 16mm film, is often breathtaking...even magical. In some scenes we can't really tell if that is Chicago snow falling, or simply the film stock being blown out, but the dreamy, low-tech look perfectly complements the musical style and tradition of Jeff Tweedy's aching folk-pop music. The sound recording is also excellent; while not offering the huge sonic experience of, say, the re-released Dolby 5.1 version of the Last Waltz, the sound crew of I Am Trying to Break Your Heart did a wonderful job of capturing the raw, pulsing sounds of a band at work, both in the recording studio and on the stages of nightclubs. Finally the filmmakers do a real service to music fans by including generous amounts of footage of the band at work in the studio writing, rehearsing, recording and mixing songs. It's exciting to see an album taking shape before your eyes in this manner.

Despite these strengths the documentary as storytelling gets lost when it drifts away from the recording studio and into the politics of the music business. One thing you can usually count on with documentary filmmaking is that the good guys and the bad guys are allowed to fully reveal themselves in all their naked glory or shameless depravity before our very eyes, but this movie seems to have its moral compass all screwed up. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say: it doesn't have a moral compass but rather buys too easily into the idea that everyone associated with Wilco is a "good guy", and everyone else is villainous.

In fact the band's manager, Tony Margherita, who is marginally awarded the role of narrator of the story, comes off as the kind of shameless huckster who makes the music business such an embarrassing behind-the-scenes spectacle. Early in the film he crows the music biz mantra of "taking Wilco to the next level" with such a moronic, repetitive gusto that one wants to stuff a tambourine in his mouth. When Reprise Records rejects the new Wilco album (ironically because they *don't* think it will take the band to the next level) he changes gears and starts talking about artistic integrity. But when Reprise drops the band from its roster he leads the band into a lucrative contract with... Reprise's sister label, Nonesuch, presumably because they offered the most money.

This should be funny, revelatory stuff, but the filmmakers seem so enamored with the band that they are unable to identify the crassness of this whole story arc, and in fact end the film with the schmoozy manager chortling about how he got Warner Brothers (parent company of Reprise and Nonesuch) to buy the same album twice. Ironic, yes, but the decision to stay in the Warner Bros. family while adopting a tone of moral superiority to their enterprise is nothing but hypocrisy.

Worse, when Tweedy kicks Jay Bennett out of the band midway through filming, the movie essentially takes a brief interlude to mock the departed songwriter. While Mr. Bennett indeed turns in an appalling interview after the incident ("there are some real power issues within Wilco" he puffs like some politically correct academic), the film isn't content to let him make a fool of himself, but rather goes to each member of the band and invites them to insult their departed bandmate on screen. When manager Margherita smugly asserts that Bennett had worn out his welcome with Wilco your skin crawls: it's like Fredo has been sent out on the boat at the end of The Godfather, Part 2 to meet his untimely fate.

The filmmakers all in all seem a wholly unreliable judge of character. Rolling Stone editor David Fricke is treated as an oracle of wisdom, but comes off as the kind of phony that rock n' roll used to be about mocking, not worshipping. I watch this parade of inauthentic politicians rolling across the screen and remember the iconoclastic fire of Bob Dylan in "Don't Look Back", and it's hard to feel anything except depressed by the state of American music in 2002.

All in all this is a movie to see if you love rock music, both because Wilco *matters*, and because it is a grim portrait of the rot at the heart of the American music industry: a rot that isn't just in the office towers of the record labels, as this movie would have you believe, but is much, much closer to home, where the damage it does is more subtle, but more irreparable. Maybe it isn't Warner Brothers fault. Maybe Wilco should heed the words: Doctor, heal thyself.

I am fairly confused reading some of the reviews... this was NOT a fly on the wall, eye opening documentary at all. It was something between an EPK and a longform video. Have those of you making such comments seen any real docs? This film looks like what it is... a great photographer who does not know how to tell a story in a cut, just from his still images.

You learn very little about Wilco and if you are not into the music, it is not watchable. There is 33 minutes before any bit of drama or story begins to unfold. All the hyped record label struggle is REFLECTIVE and only one single phone call unfolds before your eye. I found the film great to look at but hard to watch. It looks like something that was controlled, curbed and guided, not a REAL documentary. I happen to love YHF and the most enjoyable part of this film was hearing those songs but it was a complete distraction to the story.

Some Kind of Monster is a FAR FAR superior film and I cant stomach the music of Metallica. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart is flat, uninspiring and in general does not serve the story it is said to represent...

ash =o)

There's something so intrinsically beautiful about watching a group of musicians work so effortlessly in their own environment. Their ambition and their passion comes through in the music, but only a film like this can capture all the details of this phenomena. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart is that film that captures the talent, the perseverance, and the passion of the band Wilco. It tells the story of their recording of their album "Yankee, Hotel, Foxtrot" and how they were given complete freedom to make the record, only to have that freedom stripped from them when it came time to actually release the album. This is a documentary made out of the love and respect for not just Wilco, but music in general.

The film is structured as one would expect from a film like this. We cut between studio footage and concert footage with some breaks here and there that highlight a very specific mood and atmosphere of the film. There is never a dull moment in this film as there is always something interesting going on either verbally or artistically. The studio footage is fascinating as we get to see the nitty gritty process of making a record come alive. We see the most trivial things receive long, sophisticated conversations. This documentary does a wondrous job of capturing what music means to these guys, and how strong their passion is for it. A non-musician type like me might not understand everything they are talking about during debates over the music, but it is still very evident that this band takes their job seriously and they respect and adore music to no end.

Then of course there's the concert footage which also captures a hint of magic and motivation in this band. They play in small venues where the music seems to become more personal as they rock out on stage. This footage perfectly highlights the results of their passion and tireless determination to make their album great. It is evident that these guys love what they do and will surely never stop doing it. They love making art as much as this film loves capturing art. This is a fascinating film that really does show what making art is all about, enveloping a look and feel that matches the somber quality of the band. Wilco's music and the film's atmosphere are incredibly in sync, showing further dedication on both fronts.

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart is also an interesting profile on the band's front man Jeff Tweedy. He is an incredibly interesting character whose love for music knows no boundaries. He does what he wants to do and will stop at nothing to make the record he wants to make. There is an air of pretentiousness to him, but I suppose it goes along appropriately with the amount of talent this man possesses. He and Wilco make great music, but they also talk about music in a way that shows how much more it means to them than the average person. And to see this unfold within the film is truly remarkable.

When you get right down to it, this is just a fantastically well made documentary, and that's all there is to it. It's more intriguing and introspective than entertaining, and it truly is a musicians film. The non-musicians are somewhat alienated at times, but one can at least respect the obvious passion and talent these fine gentlemen display. For a middle of the road Wilco fan who isn't a musician himself, this makes a very fascinating and very enticing one time watch. For musicians and massive Wilco fans this is surely considered to be a masterpiece.

I can't see anyone who isn't a Wilco fan finding this that interesting, though I would recommend it to anyone who is curious just for the music. There's a lot of great music in here, and the footage of the earlier stages of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot shows the how lovely all the songs are on that album, in the early stages and in their current form. And while I would agree that the film does hinge on hero worship, it doesn't make the portrayal of band dynamics less interesting to a fan. The fact is, it became obvious to me before the Heavy Metal Drummer scene that Jay Bennett is an enormously talented but really really grating, brow beating individual who is very hard to work with. I also think that after several decades, people should get over the fact that rock and roll isn't a communist collective, most bands have one or two figureheads, or centers to the wheel as Tweedy would have it, and that's just part of the bargain of being in a band. If Bennett ever thought that he was equal to Tweedy in Wilco, then it's an example of the fishbowl he put himself in. Here on the outside, it's always appeared to be Tweedy's band and it's always seemed to work that way. The after interviews with Bennett betray his ego and miscomprehension of his role. Maybe that's Tweedy's fault for never expressing it well. It seemed to me like everyone in the band was just sick of the guy. Equally, the manager's job isn't to question Tweedy's moral processes, his job is to serve the interests of Wilco, and he seems to do it well. He actually seems to put the band before the business in many ways and that's good for the band. So, sure, the movie is one-sided, and it could be a much better, much more insightful movie, but just because it is one sided, I don't think that means that the one side is always wrong about everything. And Jay Bennett makes some correct points, too. But that's just life. The film may be in stark black and white, but we all know that life is really gray, it's just Sam Jones hasn't realized it yet.