There’s a reason there hasn’t been a “This is Spinal Tap” sequel. There wasn’t a story to tell.
We learn as much with “Spinal Tap II: The End Continues.”
In the new film, the band reunites because their old manager had a reunion show written into their contract. Interested in the financial benefits, daughter Faith (Kerry Godliman) gets the ball rolling and filmmaker Marty DiBergi (Rob Reiner) smells a documentary, so he starts tracking the three original members.
Estranged (for several reasons), Derek (Harry Shearer), David (Michael McKean) and Nigel (Christopher Guest) talk about the decades since the end and now. Nigel runs a cheese and guitar shop, David has another band, and Derek is trying to make money in the crypto world.
Eventually, they all land in New Orleans (because there was a cancellation of “another” show), and the games sort of begin.
While more about the split would have been nice, it comes down to really nothing and lets bona fide stars like Elton John and Paul McCartney try to pick up the pieces.
Reiner, who also directs, gets cameos from a number of O.G. Spinal Tap stars, but the real question is, “Who is interested in Spinal Tap now?” The arena is packed, but why has it exhibited staying power?
For fans of the original film, “The End Continues” doesn’t have many goofy bits to mine, nor does it give us a reason to want to see the musicians one more time.
Guest, who’s the most facile with improvisation, seems muted. Nothing goes to 11. His cheese and guitar gig is cute, but it’s good for a couple of laughs, then nothing. Derek’s venture exists on infomercials. David’s is a sight gag.
The search for a drummer (a Spinal Tap dilemma) has potential, but it, too, is truncated. “The End Continues” could easily have been an hour-long Netflix special. Instead, it goes a half hour longer and features songs that are so-so at best.
The big stars don’t elaborate on their connection to Spinal Tap; the lesser ones just show up. When McCartney sits in with the band, we wonder if he’ll bring it. Not so fast there, Sir Paul.
When the crowd pours into the arena, it’d be great to hear from the fans in a meaningful way. Instead, we see the cheers, not a visit to an uber-fan’s home.
The best scenes roll during the credits (don’t miss them), but they don’t provide the missing details.
They’re just a good laugh before you throw the leftover popcorn and realize you could have seen another film that wasn’t exactly D.O.A.
