The White Stripes Under Great White Northern Lights: Review By B. Alan Orange

Watching The White Stripes stomp across every territory in Canada had me wondering why this power duo isn't more popular. Sure, they have their dedicated fan base and a wealthy cache of admires. But they've never hit like Nirvana or the Beatles. Even though they're deserving of that legacy. The answer doesn't come for an hour or so, but enigmatic frontman Jack White sheds some light on this in a very candid interview segment towards the end of the film. A lot of people think his music is contrived. And structuralized. When really, it is a living, breathing entity all its own. That much is certain watching them rip through one set after the next. Jack and Meg are seemingly possessed, and their live shows are each unique unto themselves.

The band is an algorithm. Slathered atop a mountain of improvisational scat noodling. Director Emmett Malloy attacks his subjects in much the same way. There is a unique framing to this collection of live show clips. And each moment builds upon itself, pushing The White Stripes towards their Ten Year anniversary as a band. I've long been a bipartisan enthusiast when it comes to Jack and Meg's heritage. I've always loved their music, but in my eyes, this dynamic twosome houses the sort of untouchable magic that only comes along once in a decade. For too long now, I've only ever viewed them as musical fairies sprinkling their infectious beats into the ether. They're like post-human characters in a fictional landscape. The less I knew about their personal lives, the better.

Davis Guggenheim broke through the White mystique last August with his Gibson Guitar tribute It Might Get Loud. Yet he still aloud Jack to retain that impish limp of quandarsized fantasy that surrounds his music. He often appeared on screen teaching an eight-year-old version of himself how to make guitars out coke bottles. Pure, fun, make believe. The live White Stripes experience was captured and contained quite adequately in their 2004 concert film Under Blackpool Lights. Northern Lights shines more of a light on Meg and Jack's relationship. If you've ever wondered why you don't know too much about Meg White, its because she's a very quiet soul. Shy, it's easy to understand why she'd have a panic attack upon release of that alleged sex video two years ago. Whether or not it's her in that buck wild footage, it must have been devastating. We come to understand just how so in some quite poignant moments away from their music. In one of the film's best bits, Jack tries unmercifully to get Meg to repeat something she has said. No one can understand her the third time she mumbles it. Often throughout the film, she is in need of subtitles. Jack remarks, "Randy Newman once wrote Short People have no reason to live. He never met a quiet person."

This epic tour through every providence in Canada is beautifully shot on film. It adheres to the White Stripes' three-color code of black, white, and red. Often fading into grey grain when the apex of an audience proves to be too colorful. Jack and Meg have never toured the Great White North before. Reasons why are disclosed in the opening monologue, which is proceeded by an infamous "one-note" show. A thousand fans have gathered to watch the band perform one of their many secret performances in Canada. They hurry on stage, pick up their instruments, and hit that one golden note. Jack thanks the people in attendance, "Now we've played every territory." And then they are off. This sets forth a remarkable journey of one-off mini-concerts that are preformed on boats, in rec centers, and on buses at the drop of a hat. When they announce these quickie live events an hour in advance, too many people start to show up. Midway through their run, they start announcing them just minutes before they take to their makeshift stage, which could be anywhere at any time. Still, these Canucks show up in droves. And they're appreciative every time. Which feeds the energy of these two behemoth rock gods on stage.

It's the more intimate moments that really sell the film home, though. It's amazing that Meg and Jack have been going at this for ten straight years. Watching them together, its even more amazing that these sounds are coming from just two people. Sometimes, Malloy let's the music speak for itself. Throughout the running duration he offers some never before heard live gems, as well as some strangely executed versions of their more popular songs. The film takes place in the summer of 2007, with their Canadian tour focusing mostly on their latest release at that time Icky Thump. This all comes moments before Meg's infamous "break down", and serves as a time capsule for where the band was at and where we last left them. They certainly seem focused. And if we're to believe the interview segments sprinkled throughout the live music, these two musicians aren't through with each other yet.

The third act culminates in their Tenth Anniversary show. Malloy seamlessly weaves a number of performances from this one particular night into a quilted tapestry that is explosive and raw. It all ends with Jack and Meg at the piano. Jack plays while Meg weeps. A lot could be read into this tender moment. But it's really just the culmination of this cross-country trek. Nothing more. Nothing less.

If you dig the White Stripes, you'll absolutely adore this doc*mentary of sorts. It offers some great concert footage and some interesting insight into the band. If you're searching for some scandalous information, you might want to look elsewhere, as Malloy is primarily interested in only the music. As this is not captured on videotape, The White Stripes: Under Great White Northern Lights is a treat to undertake on the big screen in a traditional cinema. It gets a giant {bold|Whoop-doo!} from me.

(All of B. Alan Orange's reviews are based on the Boo! or Whoop-doo! evaluation system.)