Last night Sam and I went to see Spinal Tap II, a sequel 41 years in the making. The film deals with the legacy of the ‘band’, which has a fictional take in the narrative but can’t be separated from the real word impact they’ve had.
Back in July we visited Stonehenge (the subject of one of their songs) and saw the new visitor centre and museum, which weren’t there when we last went in 2013.
I was quoting lines from film, probably to the point of being a bit annoying, all the way there, during our walk up to the stones, around the stones and back. Then, in the museum, amongst the quotes from notable historic names and the culturally revered was a piece of pop culture, more than deserving of its place (and, importantly, attributed to the character, not the actor).
Since I started my trustee role with Poole Museum earlier this year, I’ve been thinking a lot about these spaces. Sam and I have always enjoyed visiting museums, but it’s only now that I’m really questioning what it is that makes me enjoy them, or enjoy one more than another. I wonder if there’s an incorrect assumption that they need to be spaces to preserve ancient history, when showcasing the more recent, even if it’s a playful nod, widens accessibility.
No spoilers for the film, except to say that it exceeded my expectations, working well as a charming standalone piece on aging, and legacy, rather than just serving as a novel reunion for a cult classic (it was definitely that too).
I remember watching a screening of This Is Spinal Tap ‘after hours’ in one of the smaller tent stages at Reading Festival in the 2000s. At this point the film would’ve been twentysomething years old. Two decades on and this fact is making me feel about as old as the band…..
Liam Toms 