Breaking A Monster

Studio: Abramorama
Directed by Luke Meyer

Jun 22, 2016 By David Kordosh Web Exclusive

From a distance, the band Unlocking the Truth may seem something of a curiosity. The subject of Luke Meyer’s documentary Breaking a Monster, the Brooklyn-based trio are mere 7^th graders when introduced, and in love with heavy metal, a genre not historically embraced by the kids’ black community.

Fortunately, Meyer’s well-paced film looks closer and delves deeper, revealing that the band is no mere novelty act… and what really captivates as their story unfolds is the artistry and integrity they consistently demonstrate. They love the music, they write their own songs and they can really play. In an era when one’s image has too much to do with Instagram filters, it’s refreshing to see a band, no matter what age, care about how they’re presented as artists in a genuine and meaningful way. When their record label cooks up a T-shirt design reminiscent of the cartoon “Boondocks”, the boys can only scoff at how it misses the mark. C’mon, man, this is metal!

Leaving behind their days of sidewalk gigs at Times Square, the band embarks on a journey filled with established rock doc moments: conflicts with the powers-that-be, triumphs on stage, infighting among the band. So while the milestones may be familiar, part of the charm of Breaking a Monster is that infighting can take the shape of a pillow fight or ditching a fellow band member in order to lock him out of the hotel room. Oh, to be young again.

The band’s highs and lows are equal parts ordinary and extraordinary. One minute you’re being grounded from playing video games, the next minute you’re crowd surfing at a major music festival. One minute you’re arguing with your manager over the timing of your record release, the next minute you land a sweet kickflip on your skateboard. Both the big and small moments Meyer captures ring genuine, as the boys seem just as comfortable in front of his camera as they do on stage or in the recording studio. To that point, the film is at its most compelling when each boy is alone, caught in more reflective moments and free to dream about goals both immediate and far-reaching, to contemplate how their desires as artists may run counterpoint to the desires of their youth.

Like the band itself, curiosity and novelty may initially attract an audience to the film; but getting a crowd to the door is one thing, it’s another to get them to stay through the encore. The film reaches its conclusions capably though, revealing the passions and missteps of an up-and-coming act without straying into saccharine or overly dramatic scenes. And hey, the songs are pretty good, too. Perhaps the truth unlocked in Monster is as clear and hard-hitting as one of guitarist Malcolm Brickhouse’s riffs: it’s the music that matters.

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