Metallica: The Videos 1989-2004

(Warner Bros.)

Video Review by Adam McKibbin

As a kid, if someone asked me to pick the best song in the known universe, it was an easy answer:  Metallica’s “One.”  It was a time when anything seemed possible for the Bay Area quartet; they improbably followed up one of history’s greatest metal albums, Master of Puppets, with another classic (…And Justice for All), despite having to replace beloved bassist Cliff Burton after a fatal bus accident.  Then they followed that up with the eponymous “Black Album,” which paved a highway for metal leading straight into mainstream consciousness.

“One” is an odd place, then, for a retrospective to begin, as an entire era of the band had already passed (and a certain segment of their fanbase has written off everything that happened post-Justice).  But Metallica initially resisted the video bandwagon, and took pride in having conquered a gigantic audience without much help from MTV or commercial radio; both entities would later help the band approach 100 million in sales.

Once the bug bit, it apparently bit hard, which leads us to this 21-video collection.  “One” was an arresting entrance into the world of promotional video, and still stands as a testament to Metallica’s power.  Whereas their songs have become increasingly internalized, often exorcising singer James Hetfield’s demons about his family and his harrowing struggles with addiction, they used to take narrative detours into Lovecraft (a Burton influence), 10-minute bouts of hopelessness about the American justice system, and, with “One” (as well as “Disposable Heroes”), sympathetic portraits of the discarded soldier.  The video for “One” hops between black-and-white shots of the band playing hard with gruesome shots and dialogue from Dalton Trumbo’s Johnny Got His Gun.  It’s stylish and the split focus somehow manages to not distract, making thoughts like “I sure hope they don't bring the draft back” and “Damn, Kirk Hammett can really shred” coexist peacefully.  In the video, the thunderous and near-perfect closing—those machine gun drums, Hammett’s wailing guitar solo—is overshadowed a bit by the theatrical flair of the video.  Lyrically, it doesn’t get much more anti-war than “One,” but Hetfield—one of metal’s best vocalists, but not one of its most nuanced lyricists—doesn’t resort to cheap sloganeering.  Trumbo’s film complicates the song’s morality, introducing the concept of a father willing to give his only son for the sake of democracy.  That promise, of course, rings rather hollow by the end of the video.  For those who just want to focus on the music in “One,” The Videos 1989-2004 offers an alternate version—along with interviews (previously appearing on VHS as 2 of One)—that keep the focus on the band.

It’s a pity that more of Justice didn’t get a chance on the small screen, as in hindsight it sounds even fuller of political piss and vinegar than it did at the time.  I mean, this stuff is way more on point than American Idiot or the Dixie Chicks.

The social consciousness in the songs didn’t really last, unfortunately.  Their videos from the Black Album era are largely self-tributes, frozen snapshots that document the seemingly endless time in the studio making the album and the triumphant but grueling tours that followed.  They are nice collector’s pieces, but not especially artful.  The major exception was the Strobe Light Special on “Enter Sandman,” a video that is considerably cooler/scarier when you’re a kid.

Metallica got more adventurous with their videos for Load, which include an over-the-top (hopefully tongue-in-cheek?) video for “Until it Sleeps” in which Hammett gets crucified, Jason Newsted smears himself in chocolate or mud, and Hetfield and Lars Ulrich make lots of crazy/intense faces.  “Hero of the Day” looks sharp in black-and-white and features a clever backdrop of Metallica-on-every-channel, allowing the band members to clown around as game show hosts, boxers, and outlaws.  (One thing that Metallica fans know from the considerable amount of behind-the-scenes footage that the band has released:  in addition to being a little intimidating—even to his bandmates—Hetfield is a surprisingly funny guy.)

The elephant in the room is that the quality of Metallica’s material began to sharply decline around the time of Reload; again, this is far from a consensus; some would say Puppets, while others would say “Never!”  From the latter half of The Videos 1989-2004 (terrible cover graphic, by the way), two of the videos that leave the largest impression are covers:  another sympathetic personal story (this time of an abused sex worker) on the grittily-shot “Turn the Page,” and then a gleefully hellraising “Whiskey in the Jar,” which gets the rock-n-roll video vibe just right:  it looks like great fun to be a part of it.

When Metallica release their Greatest Hits, the tracklist will look a lot different than the one for The Videos 1989-2004.  Regardless, the new DVD is a cheap and comprehensive must-have for band loyalists.