Spinal Tap II: The End Continues

Behind black eyeliner and white hair, Spinal Tap is back forty years later with a sequel to their mockumentary breakthrough, This Is Spinal Tap (1984), looking older and less nimble, of course, but no less sharp in the humor department. Rob Reiner returns as director for Spinal Tap II: The End Continues. He reunites with co-writers and stars Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer for another riotous comedy featuring the now mostly septuagenarian band members. They play guitarist Nigel Tufnel, lead singer David St. Hubbins, and bassist Derek Smalls, respectively, of the faux UK heavy metal band that comes together for a contractually obligated one-night-only concert in New Orleans. The risk with this and any legacy sequel is that the result will rely too heavily on nostalgia and callbacks (a trap that this year’s Happy Gilmore 2 fell into with its endless flashbacks). And while there’s some of that here, the comedians offer variations on old gags rather than simply repeating the same jokes over again. Regardless, the familiar quality to some of the humor isn’t enough to distract from how much I laughed watching this reunion. 

How does one follow what is easily among the funniest movies ever made? This Is Spinal Tap not only gave us a glimpse of Reiner’s skill as a director—evidenced in his stunning filmography over the next decade until the mid-1990s—but also launched Guest’s mockumentary career (Waiting for Guffman, 1996). It’s also a timelessly hilarious comedy with a still-relevant glimpse into the self-importance of musicians and the simplistic notions of sex, rebellion, and masculinity embedded in popular music. Admittedly, I had my doubts that Reiner and company would deliver a worthwhile sequel. His last few dramatic features have been duds, while Guest’s last mockumentary, Mascots (2016), was a disappointment. But everyone involved seems to have given this project their all, delivering a welcome reunion with these aging rockers, while offering a self-aware commentary about the hollow commercial ambitions of squeezing every dollar out of a name brand. 

What’s curious is that, similar to the original, Spinal Tap II is about getting old and being out of touch. The actors each played older characters in the 1984 movie; Nigel and David got their start in the 1960s, whereas the actors playing them would have been in their teens around that time. Their band had undergone several evolutions over the years before settling on a heavy metal sound, and their heyday had long since passed. Now, the cast actually looks the part, making their new stage performances less kinetic but no less funny. They haven’t seen each other since 2009, after a falling out over some marital improprieties within their ranks, and they begrudgingly get back together. Why? It’s not to satiate their “loyal but shrinking fanbase,” but because Hope (Kerry Godliman), daughter of their former manager Ian Faith (Tony Hendra), found their contract called for one last performance she thought could be a moneymaker. 

Reiner, once again playing on-screen director Marty DiBergi, catches up with these old friends, looks at their lives since then, and follows their journey back to the stage. Nigel has been running a cheese and guitar shop that operates mainly on a bartering system. David alternates between scoring murder podcasts, writing hold music, and playing in a mariachi band. Derek, often described as the glue that holds the band together, now runs a glue museum. They each wear bangs and stringy hair, having maintained that style since the 1980s. They can’t quite manage the leather pants anymore, nor will they be ripping about the stage or falling onto their backs in rabid solos. Instead, they meet for the first time in 15 years, and they reveal themselves as crotchety old geezers who bicker through their rehearsals. Meanwhile, Hope enlists Simon Howler (Chris Addison), a concert promoter with a “shitty vibe,” who wants “at least two” of the band members to die on stage during the show to create buzz around the event. 

The sequel boasts a few cutaways to catch up with memorable side characters from the original. For instance, Marty learns that former record executive Bobbi Flekman (Fran Drescher) now runs a company called Influential Influencers. There’s also a sequence where the band auditions new drummers. They discover that Spinal Tap’s curse of stickmen, who often die under mysterious circumstances, has soured any enthusiasm among notable drummers. Questlove, Chad Smith, and Lars Ulrich all turn down the role because they “don’t wanna die.” Perhaps a stickwoman will have better luck. Enter Didi (Valerie Franco), who rocks and remains enthusiastic about playing the skins, creepy advances from Derek aside. There’s no need to return to the joke involving Nigel’s volume dial going “up to eleven,” which might be the original’s most lasting contribution to the human race. However, a similar joke involves Nigel’s elaborate pedal boards, which produce various annoying sounds, or his Union Jack guitar, which comes equipped with a cheese compartment, including a cutting board and a cheese grater.

Many of the songs in Spinal Tap II hail from the original movie. One might be tempted to complain that there’s not more new music in the sequel, but then, no one goes to a classic band’s reunion concert to hear their new material. The best new song was released in 2018, featuring Derek’s riotous “Hell Toupee”—part of Shearer’s solo Smalls album, Smalls Change (Meditations Upon Ageing). Otherwise, the band plays favorites such as “Big Bottom,” “Hell Hole,” and “Rock ‘n’ Roll Nightmare.” Best of all, it seems Reiner and company have admirers (or called in favors) among some iconic real-life rockers who make cameos throughout. Elton John has an extended role, and Paul McCartney shows up during one of the band’s rehearsals. David, unimpressed, doesn’t enjoy the visit from the former Beatle and remarks, “But that’s only due to the flaws in my character, which I’m rather proud of.” This is one of those eternally funny lines that will surely become one of my most-quoted. 

Contrary to Simon’s corporate views on the proceedings (“It’s not meant to be fun. It’s the music business.”), Spinal Tap II is a pleasure and, at 83 minutes, doesn’t overstay its welcome (I could have happily watched another hour, though). It’s a better-than-expected return to form for everyone involved. I laughed more during this than while viewing other comedies from this year, such as The Naked Gun. And, just like the original, the lightness of the material lends a clever disguise for its critique of the entertainment industry. There’s a pitch-perfect gag where Hope and Simon pitch the idea of selling “Tap Water”—a bottle in the shape of an archway from Stonehenge, filled with what else but tap water. That sort of lowbrow marketing gag, along with Derek’s t-shirt that reads “Death Kills,” underscores the brilliant stupidity at play here. Reiner and his cast recapture the largely improvised humor and charm of their original, delivering one of the funniest movies of the year and a worthy sequel to an all-timer.