That the two elements would meet in 1984's Stop Making Sense is no surprise. Witnessing Byrne's development and seeing Demme's visionary devices is a genuine thrill, like seeing a baby born with college tuition in its hands. Though infused with glittering funk, Sense is gloriously slow in building. It removes itself completely from the sweaty, backstage school of tour flicks by erasing both audience and technical details from the equation. Starkness defines both music and movie.
Sets move clumsily by, but it's all part of the master plan.
First, core Heads Tina Weymouth, Chris Franz and Jerry Harrison emerge from beyond the chutes and ladders. The band follows Byrne's lead, imitating him as he moves like an epileptic Gene Kelly, hips swaying, arms swimming. But little is as crucial as the scenes where Byrne and Demme focus on the now-legendary Big White Suit. All rights reserved.