By the time they called it quits in 1992, the Pixies were throwing off more angry sparks than a runaway toy Godzilla: backstage squabbling, grossly delayed concerts, snippy comments to a rapt press. So for nostalgia’s sake, it’s oddly comforting to find the members of the band picking up right where they left off, as documented in this alternately catty and chilly backstage record of their 2004 reunion tour—a brilliant artistic success, if not exactly a resuscitation of the cadaver on the slab.
Who’s this documentary for? Clearly not for anyone who needs convincing of the band’s impact and merit. (A prefilm endorsement from Saint Kurt is all you get.) Nor, to the film’s detriment, is it for those who actually want a serious examination of intraband tensions, la Some Kind of Monster, the Metallica psychodrama. It’s for fans of the music (lovingly ladled on by codirectors Steven Cantor and Matthew Galkin in lushly lit concert footage), fans of the crazy twin Deal sisters sipping Starbucks and venting, fans of the drug-addled Where’s Waldo games of worryingly distracted drummer David Lovering. In short, it’s for people who can listen to the acoustic version of “Wave of Mutilation” on repeat endlessly. Okay, fine, you got me. (Opens Fri; Cinema Village.) — Joshua Rothkopf