Between the emerging details surrounding the gruesome deaths of Rob Reiner and his wife Michele Singer Reiner, and the inflammatory remarks made in response by President Donald Trump, it’s been hard to sit and reflect on the legacy Reiner left behind as a filmmaker.
During his directorial peak in the ’80s and ’90s, Reiner built a diverse catalog that few filmmakers of today’s more risk-averse Hollywood can emulate. His greatest hits from that run include the adventure comedy The Princess Bride, the iconic rom-com When Harry Met Sally, critically acclaimed Stephen King adaptations Stand by Me and Misery, and the political drama A Few Good Men.
And yet, arguably his most influential movie is his 1984 directorial debut This Is Spinal Tap, the rare project he authored himself, alongside his frequent collaborator Christopher Guest. It’s also the most emblematic of Reiner’s witty, sardonic sensibility as a comedian. The “mockumentary,” about a fictional heavy-metal band, is frequently referenced by A-list comedians as a crucial reference point and site of inspiration. More significantly, it helped popularize a blending of genres, comedy and nonfiction, that’s become omnipresent in pop culture.
To understand the cultural impact of Reiner’s first directorial feature, Vox spoke to Emerson College professor Cynthia Miller, editor of the 2012 anthology, Too Bold for the Box Office: The Mockumentary From Big Screen to Small, over email. The interview has been edited for clarity.
This Is Spinal Tap is considered one of the films that really solidified the mockumentary format. Why was it considered so brilliant?
While This is Spinal Tap wasn’t the first mockumentary, it took the artform’s irreverence to new heights — not only with its sharp satire of heavy-metal culture but with the challenge it leveled at audiences’ grasp of “the real.”
Christopher Guest and Rob Reiner crafted a fake documentary brimming over with sharp wit and cultural commentary, which was brilliant all by itself. But if you look at how they accomplished that, through actual world-building, they created something that really hadn’t been seen before. This was an intricate, complex chronicle of every possible facet of the life of the band — the groupies, the press, the releases and concerts, the drama — that [was followed up] with a real touring band that broke through that wall of cinematic fiction as an authentic group. What started out as art imitating and satirizing life ended up as art becoming life and living that satire.
What effect did This Is Spinal Tap have on the film industry? Did it immediately inspire studios to greenlight other films like it?
A hundred percent, but it’s a bit complicated. It’s important to remember that This is Spinal Tap didn’t do all that well at the box office initially. Over time, it achieved incredible cult status and well-deserved historical recognition. But in its day, it was a bit of an underachiever, financially.
On the other hand, it changed how we think about movies almost immediately. Chris Guest went on to write other fabulous mockumentaries like Best in Show and A Mighty Wind, which might have had entirely different fates if it wasn’t for This Is Spinal Tap. And a host of other mockumentaries also found eager audiences both on the small and big screens as a result, like The Office, Borat, What We Do in the Shadows, even lesser-know films like CSA: Confederate States of America and The Last Polka that use biting satire to deliver social critique.
This Is Spinal Tap demonstrated to studios that this sort of creative genre-bending and genre-reconstructing could be hilarious, impactful and, ultimately, financially worthwhile.
“We tend to relate to the world through categories. But mockumentaries blur and sometimes explode genre boundaries in ways that allow and encourage artistic and creative freedom.”
By the time this movie came out, there was an appetite to see the pomp and flamboyance of heavy-metal culture mocked. Were people also interested in seeing nonfiction films being satirized?
This was such a subversive film for its day, as much because of its style and format than its subject matter. The irreverence toward “high culture” documentary film conventions was uncommon and, for many, a breath of fresh air. And the exercise of creative freedom was inspiring. The send-up of the documentary format, using the story of a nonxistent metal band, struck a big blow for pop-culture sensibilities.
Why do you think mockumentaries are such a notable innovation in the film space?
We tend to relate to the world through categories. But mockumentaries blur and sometimes explode genre boundaries in ways that allow and encourage artistic and creative freedom. Genre conventions go out the window or are combined in unanticipated ways, creating new forms and giving filmmakers space to express themselves. Mockumentaries are often a “take no prisoners” form of social commentary that refuse to let us look away until they’ve had their say. They create discomfort, but leave us laughing at ourselves.
What about the way we consume content today makes the mockumentary format so popular?
We’re all so aware of the falsity behind “reality” TV and the curated nature of documentaries. We live in an era where we consume “the real” and yet know that it’s manufactured. I think mockumentaries speak to that knowledge and awareness with a bit of a wink and a smile. We become insiders in a sort of co-production that blurs fiction and reality, and that’s very satisfying.
“Fake news” is also such a driving concept in our world. AI leaves us wondering if that [Instagram] Reel we just saw is real or not. The immediacy of the internet allows digital hoaxes the kind of reach that hasn’t been experienced before. I think we spend a lot of mental energy trying to figure out what we can trust. Comic mockumentaries can be a bit of nostalgic relief from all that.
How are mockumentaries unique in telegraphing the human condition? How are the conventions of the genre particularly transcendent or affecting?
Mockumentaries are about much more than creating cynical laughs at the human condition. They’re long-form teachable moments where social commentary collides with humor. We laugh at ourselves, others and “the way things have always been.” They create crises of representation, exposing the inner workings of our most cherished institutions and cultural forms — and the metaphorical workers that keep them well-oiled and running smoothly. Think Wizard of Oz: “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”
They ask us whether or not we can really trust our eyes, but we can think about them as deeply as we choose. That’s a pretty transcendent thing — it never goes out of fashion. That’s why This Is Spinal Tap has only grown in popularity and developed a following that goes beyond what I’d term “cult,” and why 41 years later, we’re still thinking and talking about the genius of Rob Reiner and Christopher Guest in its creation.
