It Might Get Loud, 2009

Okay, so witnessing the makeshift band -- featuring Jack White, The Edge, and Jimmy Page -- performaing "The Weight" at the end of this movie might just be my favourite movie moment of the year.

The guys sing and play, with White putting a crazy carnival twist on the vocal that I freakin' loved, and as they're finishing, the camera pulls back to reveal the movie crew standing and watching.

This tiny concert, with its audience still, admiring these great musicians, really defines this film. You watch, in awe, of what these men can do. Whether you like their music, whether their particular music speaks to you, you come away with an appreciation of their art, their dedication, and the power of music.

I enjoyed it, from the history lesson, to the lessons in guitar craft and musicianship, it's all fascinating. And it's so beautifully shot -- Edge on the beach, Page on the grass, White in suit and tie in the Tennessee fields. These are three very different aesthetics that present these men perfectly. Each story comes together so that we know and respect them, what they do, and where they've come from.

It's more fascinating that all three pretty much got to where are based on the same drives, similar upbringings (albeit in vastly different enivornments), and with similar elements of luck that brought guitars into their lives in the first place.

If I can criticise, however... I was slightly disappointed that the eventual get together of the three men wasn't more rousing. These guys seem almost reserved with each other. I would have liked to have seen more of the meeting, unless it really was as unenlighteneing right the way through as it seemed in the snippets we get onscreen.

Also, while we learn all about the men and their music, we get very few warts. But perhaps the movie doesn't want to go down darker paths, which is fair enough. But it leaves the viewer feeling cheerier than White's bleeding hands during a Raconteurs show might suggest, or Edge's discussion of IRA terrorism, or even subdued, skiffle player Page's suddenly flaming purple trousers. What did all that mean? The interviews lack grunt, I suppose, as does the eventual meeting. Maybe it's just me?

It doesn't really get loud, it has to be said. But it's nonetheless very interesting.