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Thursday, August 7th, 2025

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    8:43a
    The Spinal Tap Sequel Arrives Next Month: Watch the Trailer and a Scene with Elton John & Paul McCartney

    This Is Spinal Tap came out more than 40 years ago. At the time, says director Rob Reiner in a recent interview at San Diego Comic-Con, “nobody got it. I mean, they thought I’d made a movie about a real band that wasn’t very good, and why wouldn’t I make a movie about the Beatles or the Rolling Stones?” Indeed, stories circulated of people in the music industry (including the late Ozzy Osbourne) not realizing it was supposed to be a comedy, so close was its satire to their actual professional lives. Eventually, “the real word started creeping in”: the fictional band “played Glastonbury, they played Royal Albert Hall and Wembley Stadium.” Real-life rock and pop musicians also became fans of the film. “Every time I see it,” Reiner quotes Sting as saying, “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

    The boundaries between Spinal Tap’s world and the real one have remained porous enough that the production of the film’s upcoming sequel Spinal Tap II: The End Continues has involved a great many celebrities playing themselves, or at least versions thereof.

    Take, for example, the newly released version of “Stonehenge,” whose music video features not just Elton John, but — to the delight of some fans, and perhaps the disappointment of others — a correctly scaled stage prop. The song will be included on the album of The End Continues, scheduled for release along with the film on September 12th, whose thirteen tracks bring in guest stars like Paul McCartney, Garth Brooks, and Trisha Yearwood.

    It’s been about fifteen years since the last Spinal Tap album, a factor the sequel incorporates into its premise. “We created this whole idea that there’s bad blood, they’re not speaking to each other,” says Reiner, “but they now are forced together because of a contract” dictating that they must give one last performance, a prospect suddenly made viable when their song “Big Bottom” goes viral. As unrecognizable as both pop culture in general and the music industry in particular have become over the past four decades, Reiner assures us that David St. Hubbins, Nigel Tufnel, and Derek Smalls “have not grown emotionally, musically, or artistically. They are stuck in that heavy-metal world.” In a Hollywood movie, such a flagrant lack of character development would constitute a violation of storytelling laws; in rock, it’s unflinching realism.

    Related content:

    The Origins of Spinal Tap: Watch the 20 Minute Short Film Created to Pitch the Classic Mockumentary

    Ian Rubbish (aka Fred Armisen) Interviews the Clash in Spinal Tap-Inspired Mockumentary

    The Spinal Tap Stonehenge Debacle

    Watch The Nine Lives of Ozzy Osbourne: A Free Documentary on the Heavy Metal Pioneer (RIP)

    Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and culture. His projects include the Substack newsletter Books on Cities and the book The Stateless City: a Walk through 21st-Century Los Angeles. Follow him on the social network formerly known as Twitter at @colinmarshall.

    5:48p
    A Page of Madness: The Lost, Avant Garde Masterpiece from Early Japanese Cinema (1926)

    It’s a sad fact that the vast majority of silent movies in Japan have been lost thanks to human carelessness, earthquakes and the grim efficiency of the United States Air Force. The first films of hugely important figures like Kenji Mizoguchi, Yasujiro Ozu, and Hiroshi Shimizu have simply vanished. So we should consider ourselves fortunate that Teinosuke Kinugasa’s Kuretta Ippei — a 1926 film known in the States as A Page of Madness – has somehow managed to survive the vagaries of fate. Kinugasa sought to make a European-style experimental movie in Japan and, in the process, he made one of the great landmarks of silent cinema. You can watch it above.

    Born in 1896, Kinugasa started his adult life working as an onnagata, an actor who specializes in playing female roles. In 1926, after working for a few years behind the camera under pioneering director Shozo Makino, Kinugasa bought a film camera and set up a lab in his house in order to create his own independently financed movies. He then approached members of the Shinkankaku (new impressionists) literary group to help him come up with a story. Author Yasunari Kawabata wrote a treatment that would eventually become the basis for A Page of Madness.

    Though the synopsis of the plot doesn’t really do justice to the movie — a retired sailor who works at an insane asylum to care for his wife who tried to kill their child — the visual audacity of Page is still startling today. The opening sequence rhythmically cuts between shots of a torrential downpour and gushing water before dissolving into a hallucinatorily odd scene of a young woman in a rhomboid headdress dancing in front of a massive spinning ball. The woman is, of course, an inmate at the asylum dressed in rags. As her dance becomes more and more frenzied, the film cuts faster and faster, using superimpositions, spinning cameras and just about every other trick in the book.

    While Kinugasa was clearly influenced by The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, which also visualizes the inner world of the insane, the movie is also reminiscent of the works of French avant-garde filmmakers like Abel Gance, Russian montage masters like Sergei Eisenstein and, in particular, the subjective camerawork of F. W. Murnau in Der Letzte Mann. Kinugasa incorporated all of these influences seamlessly, creating an exhilarating, disturbing and ultimately sad tour de force of filmmaking. The great Japanese film critic Akira Iwasaki called the movie “the first film-like film born in Japan.”

    When A Page of Madness was released, it played at a theater in Tokyo that specialized in foreign movies. Page was indeed pretty foreign compared to most other Japanese films at the time. The movie was regarded, film scholar Aaron Gerow notes, as “one of the few Japanese works to be treated as the ‘equal’ of foreign motion pictures in a culture that still looked down on domestic productions.” Yet it didn’t change the course of Japanese cinema, and it was thought of as a curiosity at a time when most films in Japan were kabuki adaptations and samurai stories.

    Page disappeared not long after its release and, for over 50 years, was thought lost until Kinugasa found it in his own storehouse in 1971. During that time Kinugasa received a Palme d’Or and an Oscar for his splashy samurai spectacle The Gate of Hell (1953) and Kawabata, who wrote the treatment, got a Nobel Prize in Literature for writing books like Snow Country about a lovelorn geisha.

    You can find A Page of Madness on our list of Free Silent Films, which is part of our collection,  4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Classics, Indies, Noir, Westerns, Documentaries & More.

    Note: An earlier version of this post appeared on our site in 2014.

    Related Content: 

    The Golden Age of Japanese Cinema: Kurosawa, Ozu, Mizoguchi & Beyond

    Essential Japanese Cinema: A Journey Through 50 of Japan’s Beautiful, Often Bizarre Films

    Akira Kurosawa’s List of His 100 Favorite Movies

    The Origins of Anime: Watch Free Online 64 Animations That Launched the Japanese Anime Tradition

    Jonathan Crow is a writer and filmmaker whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hollywood Reporter, and other publications. 

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