Forget Anvil, here's the real deal. Bobby Liebling is like Mark E. Smith and Lemmy rolled into one and thrown in a dump, ultimate rock idol living at the edge. Had some issues with the filmmaker who would not turn his camera off where he should have. Oh, and Phil Anselmo turn out to be a monumental douchebag and a ponce.
Falls somewhere between New York Doll and The Story of Anvil. And sticks to the usual formula: burnout history, mini-comeback. Difficult to watch at times; Leibling is at death's door and is a far from charming presence. It could've used a little more metal mythology and some further psychological insight (the band is called Pentagram, his father worked at the Pentagon--c'mon).
What a great documentary! It's about Robert Liebling, the singer of an obscure metal band named Pentagram. The documentary kicks off with Liebling today, abusing heroin and crack to a state of complete shambles and paranoia, while living in the sub-basement of his parents' house. He's devastated and seemingly at the end of his life, while acting a real human being. I shan't say more, but it allows for twists.