After months of anticipation since its initial release in September of 2024, Pavements, the biopic for the generational jangly slacker rock band Pavement, is finally available to stream for free on Canadian film platform Mubi.
Initially pitched as a “joke movie,” written and directed by Alex Ross Perry, Pavements tackles frontman Stephen Malkmus’ internal conflicts, the band’s philosophies on creating art, managing success while maintaining authenticity, Pavement’s lasting impact on similar music scenes, and their eventual tumultuous split.
The film divulges a seemingly disorganized, extremely meta collage of colourful, fuzzed-out video montages picturing the band during their prime in the 90s, the creation of a Pavement jukebox musical called “Slanted! Enchanted!” in 2022, and the band’s momentous reunion the same year, complete with archival interviews and concert footage, all soundtracked to Pavement hits.
Whether or not their music translates well into a musical theatre format – I can’t confidently say, but a jukebox musical pulling from the DIY gods’ discography is a fascinating notion nonetheless.
Pavements often has a dual footage appear on the screen, paralleling different scenes from the modern-day fictionalized biopic, and charmingly bad quality 90s footage of the real band.
The dual-footage shots were tricky to focus on at first, but it allows the film to pack in more content, creating a comprehensive account of what some might claim to be the defining music of its generation. Pavements is rich with references, including animation aspects from Beavis and Butthead, and accounts from closely aligned musicians like Kim Gordon from Sonic Youth.
The most alluring thing about Pavements was actor and musician Joe Keery’s performance as a young Stephen Malkmus. Keery captures Malkmus’ apathetic, too-cool persona exceptionally well, conveyed through doubts of whether he would be able to portray the iconic musician well enough. Present through in-character scenes, quiet interviews bordering between melodramatic and awkward, contrasted by delightfully loud songs and disdain for record labels, Keery’s portrayal of Malkmus is reason enough to watch.
It’s clear that most people – apart from Malkmus – involved in the making of Pavements were absolutely stoked, and the actors’ excitement is easily felt by viewers, making for a promising watch. “[Pavement is] its own life force, like an underground reservoir or something. Instead of being a band, it was its own world; you could feel that instantly. That it was symbolic of a bigger thing,” said actor Jason Schwartzman in the film, who plays Matador Records founder Chris Lombardi.
The film also extensively covered the lasting impacts of DIY creativity within the band’s cult following. In pure 90s fashion, many fans of Pavement are pseudo-archivists, devotedly documenting the band’s history through self-published fanzines, following Pavement’s through the band’s 30+ year lifespan.
News clips depicted a commemorative exhibit showcasing the fanzines, old notebooks writing out playfully aloof lyrics, outfits each member adorned during the infamous mud pit performance where they were booed offstage at Lollapalooza in 1995, and other memorabilia, including a band member’s toenails (ew, right?). Regardless, it was neat to see the efforts made to document the far-reaching influence of Pavement.
Where this film lost me is its self-indulgence on the director’s part – does anyone still care about Pavement this much? Does Stephen Malkmus himself even care? It definitely didn’t seem like it at times. It would definitely be hard to keep up with if not acutely aware of the band’s lore.
I am fond of the band, but I bet even superfans would agree that Pavements ran a bit long, and its oddly spliced-together editing style became tiring to keep up with by the end. I do wish they included at least one full song as well; there were clips interspersed, but never a full performance, which fans would surely like to see, especially older archival footage.
An almost impossibly ambitious blend of fiction and non-fiction, Pavements is simultaneously a band documentary, an art house biopic, a concert film, an exclusive account of the creation of both a film and a musical, and an all-encompassing retrospective archival project. Pavements is able to accomplish an impressive amount of things in its 128-minute runtime.
Though I acknowledge my predisposition as a Pavement fan, I loved this – this film evidently has a very specific target audience, but if you’re it, you’ll love it.
Rating: 8/10
