Words by Jerry Howard
Talk about blind sided. I thought I was going to watch a documentary about heavy metal in Baghdad, but what I observed was something much more thought provoking: a first hand look at individual experiences in the Iraq War.
The filmmakers follow members of the band Acrassicauda as the war in Iraq unfolds. We see first hand the impact of the war on regular people; citizens not involved with any terrorist organizations, just regular ol' folks. The film crew risk their lives (and the lives of the band) to tell the story of each band member as they struggle to survive in war torn Baghdad. Eventually, we see the band torn apart. One moves to Canada, the others end up immigrating to Damascus where they work for low wages and live in a slum. It is absolutely frustrating and heart breaking.
The guys continue moving forward with Acrassicauda, despite challenges of every day life. When the filmmakers show up in Damascus, they help the band make a demo. Momentarily, you see the guys re-energized as they rock out, laying down and mixing three jams in thirty hours. They're all smiles and even raid the filmmaker's mini-bar back at the hotel in full metal style! The power of music and passion on display for all to see.
But can it last? Tomorrow the realities of their situation will still be there and slowly, we see the weight of the world bearing down on the fellas. My heart was breaking.
Heavy Metal in Baghdad did something to me. I could go on and on regarding the absolute guerrilla style of the production - which I absolutely love and admire. It goes deeper. The story of the band, of the individuals within the band, whose dreams have been trampled moved me. The damage done to Iraq and its people is irrevocable. What has been lost cannot be measure in dollars - much, much more has been destroyed.
This world is mad.
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