Jay Rohr
Heavier Trip is surprisingly playful for a film about black metal. This pleasing parody lovingly pokes fun at the extreme subgenre, while making some honest points. Themes of friendship and the evils of the music industry fuel this comedy as much as its heavy metal humor. Oddly enough, though the sequel to a film with a kvlt following, Heavier Trip may be more accessible than it seems.
The film takes off a few years after the first. The band Impaled Rektum are in prison, doing time for various hilarious crimes committed during the previous picture. Forbidden from playing their brand of symphonic post-apocalyptic reindeer-grinding Christ-abusing extreme war pagan Fennoscandian metal, they’ve settled in to finishing their sentence. However, family money troubles compel them to break out of prison and seize a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to perform at Wacken Open Air. This sets them on a collision course with the corrupting influences of the music industry, their own personal flaws, and all manner of absurdity.
Many parts of Heavier Trip are laugh-out-loud ridiculous. There isn’t a terrible amount of esoteric comedy designed around references only metalheads might appreciate. There are a few just for heavy metal afficionados, but the overall absurdity of Heavier Trip should amuse most audiences. Still, the viewers likely to enjoy this the most are fans of such music.
Comedically adjacent to This is Spinal Tap (1984), the satire here is never disapproving. In fact, it often helps highlight the goofiness of its main characters. The members of Impaled Rektum aren’t brooding satanists plotting church burnings so much as awkward misfits who happen to have found a home in the black metal community. This helps raise the stakes a bit since their ambitions have a narrow window to fly through, meaning their quest is in pursuit of a rare opportunity.
It also creates a chance for the various members to explore minor arcs. For instance, Max Ovaska (Sisu) plays the bass player Xytrax a.k.a. Pasi, who is chronically in corpse paint and a rigid heavy metal gatekeeper. The kind of person calling out posers at every opportunity. His zealous rigidity prevents him from seeing opportunities, not to mention enjoying any music outside a very confining set of criteria. Although he often keeps Impaled Rektum true to their principles, he simultaneously holds them back.
At risk of spoilers, the cameo he encounters opens him up to possibilities beyond his point of view. Personally, I loved this part of the film because in addition to being comical, it is extraordinarily true to life. I have literally witnessed this exact transformation in many metalheads when they experience Babymetal live for the first time. It’s that kind of authenticity which makes the movie a kvlt treat for its fans.
Heavier Trip is full of such little moments. From the honest difficulty of composing music to the temptations of fame, the film touches on how bands can easily fall to pieces. The main focus tends to be on lead singer Turo played by Johannes Holopainen (The Unknown Soldier) but makes time to at least pass by his bandmates’ dilemmas. Unfortunately, that means zooming through drummer Oula’s issues, leaving performer Chike Ohanwe (Aurora) without much new to do. He got more attention in Heavy Trip (2018).
There’s nothing wrong with a sequel expecting audiences to have seen the previous picture. However, certain details will be lost on those unfamiliar with the first film. The sequel sort of hits the ground running leaving all the backstory behind as it speeds through any informative elements. In addition, some jokes echo the earlier movie. Knowing that can alter the level of laughter when a punchline hits.
Eventually, the film settles into a certain formulaic routine. The plot hits predictable points, and although some gags make the outcomes unique, they’re no less obvious. This makes a portion of Heavier Trip start to feel like a chuckling lazy river rather than a wild ride. It doesn’t help that some narrative routes come across contrived albeit conveniently continuing the story. However, a modest 96-minute runtime keeps the film from ever overstaying its welcome.
Writer-directors Juuso Laatio and Jukka Vidgren present a straightforward flick. There are some stylistic choices which work nicely. Mostly, though, these are at the beginning. Once Impaled Rektum escapes the prison, Heavier Trip settles into a pattern of standard shots. That’s because the movie doesn’t contain much visual humor. The comedy tends to be in the dialogue.
Fortunately, they’ve provided a solid cast with clever lines. From Max Ovaska’s deadpan delivery to Samuli Jasko (Peluri – kuolema on elävien ongelma) giving guitarist Lotvonen all the charm of a friendly dimwitted puppy, Heavier Trip is great when chirping metal inspired jokes. There are gags which don’t land as effectively as others, but the over-under is in favor of laughter.
The final piece of the puzzle is original music courtesy of Mika Lammassaari from the Finnish melodic death metal band Mors Subita. He composed Impaled Rektum songs for the first film along with Eemeli Bodde. Heavier Trip continues to deliver authentic extreme gems which will get any headbanger thrashing but moreover, Juuso Laatio and Jukka Vidgren have a marvelous opening gag which highlights the frequently unseen poetic potential of the subgenre. Later, when the odious music industry sleaze Fisto (Anatole Taubman), corrupts the tune into comical pop metal garbage — any audience will appreciate the wrongness of what’s been done.
Heavier Trip is a satire that playfully pokes at an extreme subgenre. That parody helps humanize a community that is frequently demonized due to their dark theatricality. Here, though, such musicians become comic misfits in a black metal Blues Brothers (1980). Not all of the comedy may leave a person rolling on the floor, but there’s enough laughs to leave audiences entertained. Granted, this is best recommended to metalheads. However, Heavier Trip is an absurd delight that pays off more often than it hits a sour note.
