Alright, let’s get into the stupid shit that makes this film legendary. First up — the amps that “go to 11.” It’s such a dumb idea but also genius, because you know some egotistical rockhead has actually thought that was a good plan. More volume? Nah mate, just better numbers.
Then the Stonehenge bit… You’re sitting there expecting this big epic set piece and instead you get a fucking toy monument dropping on stage. Then you see management have hired little people to dress up as druids in an attempt to make the prop look larger. The band are visually shocked watching them dance around Stonehenge whilst playing the song. It’s hard not laugh at their reactions.
The whole “lost backstage” scene? Yeah, that got me more than it should have. These guys can write albums, tour the world, pull thousands of fans — but can they find a bloody door? Nope. Absolute chaos.
And the drummers… Jesus Christ. It’s so ridiculous it shouldn’t be funny, but it is, every single time. Why do the keep spontaneously combusting? Deal with the devil perhaps?
That’s the beauty of Spinal Tap. It’s over-the-top bollocks, but also feels like it’s just one step away from being an actual band documentary. You’re laughing, but also thinking, “yeah, this is probably how it really goes down.”
Movie Mumbles 
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