Spinal Tap II: The End Continues

Death Kills, says the t-shirt of Spinal Tap bassist Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer), but then, you can’t kill rock and roll, as the Prince of Darkness once sang. And so, if you thought you had seen the last of the fictional heavy metal band of Rob Reiner’s landmark, eternally hilarious 1984 mockumentary “This Is Spinal Tap,” they are back. Smalls, lead singer David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean), and guitarist Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest), spurred from some mysterious breakup 15 years ago to play one more contractually obligated show in the wake of the death of their manager, Ian Faith. The contractual obligation is a pretty good joke, but unlike the original, “Spinal Tap II” demonstrates little interest in taking the piss out of the music and concert industries themselves. Live Nation is just sitting there and…crickets. The funniest jokes are modest, and the inter-band tension feels half-hearted at best. The film critic Jonathan Rosenbaum once noted that despite the original’s merit’s, “it spawned what could be the laziest of all current subgenres, the supposedly satiric pseudodocumentary,” and so, rather than exist as its own spiritual heir, “Spinal Tap II” feels more akin to its sluggish spawn. Then again, “This Is Spinal Tap” was so successful in part because of its sincerity and that sincerity saves the sequel which isn’t the same thing as saying it’s good.

In writing about Bruce Springsteen’s reunion tour with The E Street Band in 1999, the esteemed Greil Marcus noted that what made their performances successful was that the Boss could still fail while, say, The Rolling Stones couldn’t. The Stones we’re “fixed,” Marcus wrote, “their books written, their prophecies behind them,” while Springsteen, on the other hand, still wanted more than he could have, was still taking risks live and on record, some bound to miss the mark. And it’s more than a little ironic that Spinal Tap is reuniting, so to speak, the same year that another fabled British band, Oasis, reunited after so long apart. And Oasis? As it turns out, they are too big to fail. Their prophecies were written a long time ago, as were Spinal Tap’s, and if Liam Gallagher is still out here wearing parka jackets with popped collars, then it only makes sense that Marty DiBergi (Reiner) is still out here wearing his USS Oral Sea OV-4B ballcap. That hat underlines much of the movie, which is content to literally retell many of the same jokes from the first one, as if the characters themselves are “This Is Spinal Tap” fans quoting lines to one another, just as Spinal Tap is content to play all the same songs from the first movie rather than compose any new ones. The people are here for “Big Bottom.” I don’t think it’s anymore a spoiler to say their new live performance of “Stonehenge” concludes with another disaster than to say Oasis has been concluding every reunion show with a double barrel blast of “Wonderwall” and “Champagne Supernova.”

Power Ranking This Is Spinal Tap Names

“What's in a name?” wondered one Romeo Montague so many centuries ago. “That which we call a rose / by any other name would smell as sweet.” Eh, would it? I don’t mean to quibble there, Romeo, though I guess I do, because you mean to tell me that if you changed the word “rose” to, say, gillnet, that it would still smell as sweet? Yeah, I don't think so. This, I suspect, is proven most emphatically by the famed 1984 helmed mockumentary “This Is Spinal Tap.” That Rob Reiner film is chock full of striking names. These names are so striking that to dismiss them by wondering “What's in a name?” is identification blasphemy. Them who we call...well, I can’t spoil it, can I? Nah. Let’s count ’em down.

The Ten Best Names in This Is Spinal Tap

10. Derek Smalls. This is a good place to begin because it is evocative of how “This Is Spinal Tap” comes up with solid names – gotta love that “s” concluding a singular name – even when the names do not possess wackadoo chutzpah.

9. Lt. Bob Hookstratten. Wackadoo chutzpah like this name, for instance, a surname that sonically possesses a certain blustery quality that Fred Willard was born to embody.

8. Ronnie Pudding. Who doesn’t wish their last name was Pudding?!

7. Ian Faith. A name too good to be true, it fits just right for a band manager who is espousing something like false conviction.

6. Artie Fufkin. I cannot imagine a better name for a hapless promotions rep. There is something about the way it pops – FUF-kin – that makes you think you’re dealing with a guy who is not merely out of his element but never actually even in it.

5. David St. Hubbins. The surname seems to have been an ode to Derek St. Holmes, sideman for Ted Nugent, a gig that made me consider dropping St. Hubbins behind Artie Fufkin. Then again, I genuinely like any name with a St. prefix, and I really like it for St. Hubbins because it lends a phony regality that every frontman worth his ego should wholly believe in.

4. Nigel Tufnel. Like Derek Smalls, it fails to catch the eye in that same Whoa There way as St. Hubbins. Yet it nevertheless has that sort of plausible Robert Fripp-ish ring without existing as an homage.

3. Sir Denis Eton-Hogg. This, as my girlfriend likes to say, is the quintessential British name, especially because it leads with a “Sir”.

2. Bobbi Flekman. It’s perfect. It’s a perfect name. But it is not, mind you, an aptronym. It is not Usain Bolt or William Wordsworth or Amy Freeze, the meteorologist. No, like Burt Reynolds is absolutely a Burt, or like John Kruk is definitely a John Kruk, or like Kate Middleton is irrefutably a Catherine Elizabeth Middleton, there can be no doubt that Fran Drescher is a Bobbi Flekman.

1. Marty DiBergi. Are there “better” names in “Spinal Tap”? Maybe. But Marty DiBergi is the moniker that ties the whole movie together.