The ’90s indie band Pavement has always been an exception to the typical music biopic formula. Alex Ross Perry’s new film about the group, who remain beloved but never quite famous, offers a fresh take that mixes sincere admiration with satirical critique. About halfway through the film, actor Joe Keery shows his vocal coach a photograph of Pavement singer Stephen Malkmus’ open throat.
“The music has all come from this place,” he says, holding his phone like a relic. Keery is working on becoming Malkmus, Method style, preparing for a biopic that’s not an actual movie, but part of Perry’s hybrid experiment. The film blends rockumentary and mockumentary elements, probing into what makes Pavement so enduringly appealing while poking fun at the overall endeavor of canonizing past musical acts.
Perry began working with Pavement when he directed a music video for “Harness Your Hopes,” a 1999 B-side that unexpectedly became popular on Spotify. The band invited Perry to create a feature-length film, but they wanted neither a documentary nor a screenplay. The result is a chaotic mix of real archival footage, fake documentary scenes, and real conversations with the band, edited by documentarian Robert Greene.
The film is visually busy, often using split screens and overlays, making viewers question what’s real and what’s staged.
A fresh approach to Pavement
By traditional metrics, Pavement never achieved major fame.
They never sold out arenas, won a Grammy, or earned a gold record until recently. Yet, their icy ambivalence garnered a devoted following among skeptical Gen Xers. They are important enough to be name-dropped in pop culture but remain elusive enough to walk most streets without being swarmed.
This unique positioning makes Pavement the perfect subject for exploring the afterlife of music stardom. The film asks the audience to imagine Pavement as one of the era’s most defining bands, a Nirvana for a tired, wry generation. “Pavements” arrives amid a surge of high-profile music biopics like “Bohemian Rhapsody,” “Rocketman,” and Dylan’s “A Complete Unknown.” These films promise intimate looks at beloved artists but often overshoot, turning everyday creative processes into grand, historically important moments.
The latest wave of biopics tends to dramatize the mundane, making them ripe for parody and critique. Perry’s film is a playful yet genuine exploration of Pavement and the absurdity of trying to immortalize music under glass. It stands out as a refreshing take on both the documentary and biopic genres, avoiding the common pitfalls of excessive dramatization and instead embracing a more ambiguous, chaotic narrative that reflects Pavement’s unique appeal.
