MUSIC REVIEW: 'UNDER GREAT WHITE NORTHERN LIGHTS'

Jack & Meg Embark on A Road Movie of Rock n' Roll, Relationships & Musical Endurance

By: Staci Layne Wilson

March 10, 2010

When The White Stripes — the bluesy power duo of Jack and Meg White — formed 13 years ago in Detroit, Michigan, they drew few crowds and released their first album to little fanfare. Along the way to present day, the band’s immediately recognizable sound earned them millions of fans around the globe and a solid niche in rock & roll history.

Their music evolved yet stayed the same (some bands realize a successful sound and stick with it while some experiment endlessly; The White Stripes did both), as did the crux of their three-tiered relationship (from married couple to collaborators to brother/sister), and those elements are elegantly illustrated in this documentary film shot in 2007.

“Having never done a tour of Canada, Meg and I thought it was high time to go whole hog, from the ocean to the permafrost,” says White at the beginning of the film, and then proceeds to do just that. The duo is filmed doing shows everywhere from packed clubs to bowling alleys, from buses to boats, and even an Inuit Retirement Home, where Jack encourages the elderly ladies to square dance while he plays his custom white Gretsch (complete with a painted portrait of redheaded icon Rita Hayworth on the back) in time to a rusty old accordion.

The dual nature of the band (some of these concerts were sold-out arena shows and others were impromptu jams in bowling alleys; one show was the longest in the band’s live history and another was just a single note) and its members (Jack’s a talker, Meg’s a listener) is presented in a covert way. This clever cutting adds a layer for the band’s die-hard fans, but it won’t affect the enjoyment of the casual viewer who just wants to enjoy the music and admire the film-making aspects.

Deftly directed by music video vet Emmett Malloy and shot in gorgeously grainy 16mm color and B&W by DP Giles Dunning, Under Great White Northern Lights is one of the most succinct, competent and unique music movies to come out in some time. It’s not a straight-ahead concert like The Last Waltz, but the onstage and backstage numbers are stunning. It’s not a “Behind the Music” retrospective, but there’s enough back-story slipped like a spoonful of sugar so neophyte viewers will know what they’re looking at. It’s not a dissertation of personalities, but one witnesses unspoken emotions and the weighty implication that this would indeed prove to be the last White Stripes trek (there’s a moment in an empty room in which Meg seems to be saying goodbye with her tears, seated beside Jack at the piano and leaning into him as he sings “White Moon”).

It was a strange, solitary tour. In contrast to cohorts Jimmy Page and The Edge from last year’s rock doc It Might Get Loud, guitarist White finds places to play other than Wembley Stadium or in 3D… For The White Stripes, it was every province in the Great White North, from Newfoundland to Nunavut.

Wisely, the filmmakers stay away from lengthy fan testimonials and lingering shots of the audience — we’re here to see Jack and Meg, and we get them intimately, up close and personal. The footage shot onstage is from views and vantage points not even the roadies are privy to, and it’s a consummately edited combo of hand-held, crane, and dolly. The long shots and masters showing the Canadian byways, shores, and scenery are magnificent. Backstage and behind the scenes is mostly hand-held; some of it is almost voyeuristic while other moments are tinged with White’s trademark quirky staging.

It’s the most seen of Meg offstage probably ever, but she’s also given her due onstage, as we see her not only sing her signature solo “Cold Cold Night” but a birds-eye view of her heartfelt, bam-bam drumming. While mainstream reviews don’t mention it, there has been some discussion on The White Stripes’ fan forums about the subtitling of Meg’s infrequent mutterings. While this reviewer did not find it so, it’s been suggested it’s sexist (after all, famously mush-mouthed male rockers such as Keith Richards and Bob Dylan haven’t been captioned in their movies; also, a heavily accented Inuit man in the film is left unfettered). The issue of Meg’s sotto voce is brought up in the film about halfway through. From a purely cinematic standpoint, perhaps the subtitles should have been introduced after that — then they would have been more playful and pointed.

The mutual love, trust and respect Jack and Meg have for one another is plain to see throughout the film, but that’s an undercurrent. Above all, music-lovers are in for a treat. The strummer and the drummer each share their shaky moments personally and professionally, but this film easily shows exactly why The White Stripes have endured throughout the past decade without waning: Raw power, unbridled emotion, heart-soaring melody, and downright catchy tunes.