Clever, believable, and super fun to watch. It totally has replay value.

Good films always raise compelling questions, whether the format is fiction or documentary fact.

At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.

The thing I enjoyed most about the film is the fact that it doesn't shy away from being a super-sized-cliche;

Brilliant - one of the greatest ever concert films.A Talking Heads concert from 1984, recorded at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood. We have the band - David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Jerry Harrison and Chris Frantz - plus several very talented backing singers and musicians. The Talking Heads offshoot, the Tom Tom Club (Weymouth and Franz, plus backing musicians), also performs a few songs.This is Talking Heads at their peak, creativity-wise and popularity- wise. Incredible concert - the band seemed to be having a whole lot of fun and the music is fantastic. There is also the stage theatrics, largely by frontman David Byrne, and these amount to performance art.The only concert films that surpass this, I think, are The Band's The Last Waltz and the Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration.

At the beginning of the greatest concert movie ever made, we follow a pair of sneakered feet to down center of an empty stage. A voice says "I've got a tape I want to play." We pan up to a thin, nervous-looking man with an acoustic guitar and a boom box. The box starts playing a beat. The man's hand hits a jangling chord. And for the next hour and a half, as the scenery slowly builds around this skinny misfit, we sit transported.Talking Heads were unquestionably a seminal band in the New York punk/new wave scene. Yet before seeing this film I had little idea of who they were, and even after seeing it I would not necessarily put them on a top ten list. Nonetheless, through a combination of front man David Byrne's charisma and stagecraft, Jonathan Demme's taut, precise filmmaking, and the infectious heat of the music, Stop Making Sense remains the most enthralling and sheerly entertaining rockshow ever. The keening melancholy of "Heaven", the stripped-down mystery of "Once in a Lifetime", the dark funk of "Girlfriend is Better" -- there's simply no duds here. And Byrne works his butt off. He seems to have energy to spare; during one number he simply jogs circles around the stage, as though he needs further exercise. His teammates Tina Weymouth, Chris Frantz, Jerry Harrison, and (eventually) a host of backup singers and musicians click into that energy without a stumble.This isn't raw work-- clearly this is a conceived film, with defined emotional beats and even a sort of intuitive narrative. And like any band, Talking Heads have a specific sound and style that (I suppose) won't appeal to everyone. But who? I've shown this film to at least three people who never heard of the band before (except through dim memory of early MTV), and even claimed to hate concert movies-- and then they went and bought the soundtrack.What can I further say? This is a record of performance that cannot be matched. If you like music, at all, clear a little time and watch this movie. I can't promise you won't be disappointed, but I cannot easily imagine how.

Before I saw Stop Making Sense I had never been particularly concerned with The Talking Heads, or lead-singer and solo-artist David Byrne. Indeed, I had always been a fan of certain songs, such as "Burning Down the House" and "Psycho Killer", but I had never actually spent time becoming acquainted with the band's music on the whole. However, Stop Making Sense was something I was desperate to view, due to the substantial amount of praise that had been garnered over the years since its release. Now it is safe to say that The Talking Heads rank among my favourite bands, thanks to this masterpiece of musical art.Essentially, Stop Making Sense is a showcase of the band's collected works. Throughout the 90-minute running-time the concert simultaneously covers the back-catalogue of The Talking Heads, through fluid, non-stop vibrancy. From "Found a Job" and "Take Me to the River" the work is merely a sample of the group's ability to provide some of the most engaging live shows ever recorded. To say that the film is "original" would be an understatement, given that the title still rings true today. Stop Making Sense defines the band's abilities, attitudes, styles and motifs. The New Wave approach the film takes is stylistically engaging to such an extent that it is virtually impossible to draw your eyes away from the screen. Minimalist set-pieces move along with the mood of the music at such a rate that much of the picture feels like a kaleidoscope of blistering sound and trancelike imagery.David Byrne is the key constituent; bestowing his stage presence, creativity and musical proficiency. His stage dynamics are let loose during Stop Making Sense. The infamously over-sized business suit donned by David Byrne is otherworldly, just like the viewing experience, which transports you into a deep-seated, vivacious trance. Yet it is the suit which distinguishes the work completely. The fact that a regular item of clothing can have the ability to make the wearer seem out-of-proportion and disfigured is both mystifying and captivating. Even more bizarre is that the suit seems to grow relatively larger as the concert progresses. Personal interpretation could be that the suit is an implicative metaphor for the irony of the business world or conformity; on the other hand it could just be about not making sense.Academy award winning director Jonathan Demme does not just "get the gist of The Talking Heads". Instead he is able to comprehend the themes of the band's work from an unmistakably refined tone that he captures through his direction. The irregularity of the group may be hard for some viewers to swallow, but that can be expected from a group which make music of an acquired taste. As for the choreography, it seems there is none, since the musicians all behave in a volatile and limitless manner. The progressively shifted set-pieces convey the altered reality that you have become apart of, and are an extraordinary example of unbound craftsmanship. Stop Making Sense ultimately displays the band's antics from their perspective; this is due to the extended takes of the performers and the lack of audience shots (the fans can only be seen during wide shots or when the camera moves behind the performers). There are even moments where the viewer effectively becomes apart of the band. A prime example of this manoeuvre is when the camera swings behind drummer Chris Frantz and faces the audience during the rendition of "Thank You for Sending me an Angel."Characteristically speaking it is hopeless trying to describe the feeling you receive while viewing Stop Making Sense. This is because when seen and heard the mind becomes so fixated with the audacious madness of the piece that every viewer will react differently. Personally, this is the concert which I would irrefutably name as the finest ever recorded, maybe you will too.

To be perfectly honest, I was not a Talking Heads fan before this I saw this. A friend had to drag me to see it when it came out. But it totally blew me away! I wound up being totally obsessed with TH after I saw Stop Making Sense, so I don't think it's just for fans at all, it made me a fan.The thing about SMS is that it's just pure music, and pure joy. No filler: interviews with the band members backstage, crowd shots, spliced segments of music videos, blah blah blah. If you love a band's music, why bother with the other crap? It's just drama (which there was plenty of on this tour, apparently, if you read the interviews).David Byrne is such a freak, and his unadulterated joy at being able to BE a freak on stage and get paid for it is infectious. This is a show for every self-conscious teen who felt like shrinking into his chair during class, but who busts out dancing in the privacy of his bedroom.