They
were influenced by Sun Ra and toured with Penn Jillette. Few bands command the
same degree of fan loyalty and fascination, but it is important to note The
Residents might not actually exist. Fortunately, that will not deter Don Hardy
from chronicling their careers in The
Theory of Obscurity: a Film about the Residents (trailer here), which screens
during this year’s SXSW Film Festival.
The
identity of the musicians beneath the eyeballs remains one of the most closely
guard secrets in show business. Right from the start, Hardy warns the audience
everything fans think they know about the band might be false. Of course, the
Residents are not about to set the record straight. After forty years of strict
anonymity, they are not about to embrace the trappings of celebrity culture
now.
They
fact remains, nobody outside of the band’s most intimate circles know who is a
member or what they look like. Reportedly, they originally hailed from Northern
Louisiana, but made their way to San Francisco, for obvious reasons. The quartet
(as far as we know) were just as interested in avant-garde art as music,
incorporating both into their program. They adopted their tongue-in-cheek name
and trade mark eyeball masks and top hat ensembles largely through unlikely
happenstance, but the group’s interest in new technology and short form video
put the Residents decades ahead of their contemporaries. It boggles the mind
today, but there was a time when the Residents were in heavy rotation on MTV,
which Hardy hastens to explain to young viewers was once the broadcast home of
music videos.
It
must be constitutionally impossible to make a dull film about the Residents,
but if you are expecting a dramatic Scooby-Doo
style reveal at the end, forget about it (however, there is an amusing
stinger worth staying for). However, it sometimes feels like Hardy is too
respectful of his subjects, never presuming to speculate about anything
concealed by their costumes and myth-making, even though he has us well primed
for some idle conjecture.
Still,
even if you have yet to acquire a taste for their darkly hued, often discordant
music, it is cool to see they never succumbed to the lure of fame and the
ego-stroking that typically goes with it. They just keep doing their thing.
That necessarily means Hardy had no interviews with his subjects, which
presents an undeniable challenge. Nevertheless, he scored sit downs with former
members of the Residents inner circle, including several former officers of The
Cryptic Corporation, the band’s duly empowered business and logistical
management crew, as well as Jillette, the intentionally over the top emcee of
their notorious early 1980s tour.
That
Hardy leaves all of the Residents’ secrets undisturbed is both laudable and
frustrating, because let’s face it, the group inspires a virulent form of
curiosity. It is not called mystique for nothing. We wonder just who played the
Albert-Ayler-on-crack alto solos during their early performances and whether
there has been any personnel turnover throughout the decades. Naturally, that
mystery is a good part of the band’s allure. Hardy illuminates their appeal and
cogently puts their work in the cultural context of the times. Recommended for
Residents fans and those who appreciate a little eccentricity in life, The Theory of Obscurity screens again
this Thursday (3/19) and Friday (3/20) as part of the 2015 SXSW.
