Spinal Tap II: The End Continues

“Direct from hell... it’s Spinal Tap!” This is how legendary mock-metal band Spinal Tap are introduced on stage in Spinal Tap II: The End Continues. It’s a typically goth line from the band who have a song in their catalogue titled ‘Christmas With The Devil’ (“The elves are dressed in leather and the angels are in chains...”). But while it’s not quite true to say that you could read a double meaning in that proclamation, this is not exactly a film that feels sent from heaven.

1984’s This Is Spinal Tap is rightly lauded as a monumental work, and still one of the best big-screen comedies ever made, introducing us to one of England’s loudest bands: David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean), Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest) and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer). Such is its brilliance that the crushing disappointment of this long-awaited follow-up hits particularly hard. It’s as unfunny as the original was funny.

Such absence of successful comedy is just heartbreaking.

When we meet the band members again, they have gone their separate ways; Nigel now owns a cheese-and-guitar shop in Berwick-upon-Tweed (“I trust my hands more than a scale,” he claims, one of the few truly authentic Tap-esque gags). Meanwhile, following the first film’s “bizarre gardening accident”, the role of drummer remains unfilled, in what amounts to less a running joke, more run-into-the-ground.

Rob Reiner, returning as both off-screen real director and on-screen fake director Marty DiBergi, obviously has an impeccable filmmaking pedigree, but his improv skills are not his strong suit. In one scene, he simply falls over some chairs, the kind of pratfall that Mr Bean might consider a bit much. While some jokes lack polish, others seem too contrived: a chopping board on the back of the guitar might be funny on the page, but lands like a thud on screen.

While the core trio are amiable enough company, the new supporting cast are wobbly. Kerry Godliman is solid as Hope Faith, the daughter of original manager Ian Faith, but Chris Addison’s slimy publicist is a total misfire: while it cannot be doubted that the music industry is packed with amoral bastards, he is evil to cartoonish levels. Meanwhile, celebrity cameos from Paul McCartney and Elton John take the air out of any possible yuks, the filmmakers seemingly so enamoured with actual music legends that they entirely forget to give them anything funny to do.

Such absence of successful comedy is just heartbreaking. The only saving grace is that the band’s musicianship is never in doubt, from their first a cappella together to full-throated renditions of classics like ‘Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight’. Tap may have lost a bit of their mojo over the years, but their rock chops are at least still as loud as ever.