Studio 666 (2022 | USA | 105 minutes | BJ McDonnell)
In an era where artists like Lady Gaga and Justin Timberlake engineer their crossover film success with algebraic levels of calculation, there’s something almost endearing about a big rock band farting out a schlocky horror comedy as their first fictional feature. So the scrappy contrarian in me was rooting hard for Studio 666, the debut narrative showcase for arena-alternative rock band Foo Fighters.
Whether they realize it or not, Foo Fighters leader/Studio 666 story writer Dave Grohl and his bandmates join a decades-long line of crossover stars trying their hand at genre film stardom. Before there was such a thing as Rock and Roll, comedians like Bob Hope and Jerry Lewis saw their stars rise in horror spoofs like The Ghost Breakers and Scared Stiff respectively. And old-school crooners like Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin likewise became icons onscreen as well as on record.
Rock bands starring in their own movies as themselves, however, run pretty rare. Once in a blue moon, one works famously. Most of them are best measured by their degrees of suckiness.
Put on a bell curve with A Hard Day’s Night on one end and Hillbillys (sic) in a Haunted House on the other, Studio 666 falls somewhere in the middle. It’s not exactly revelatory, and it’ll likely disappoint Foo fans from a showcase standpoint (aside from one shredding instrumental jam and the obligatory closing-credits song, this skews way more toward horror comedy than Foo Fighters music movie), but it’s made with some affection and delivers a few decent shocks with the yocks.
As the deadline for their long-awaited tenth album looms, the Foo Fighters search desperately for a fresh angle on completing the record. They find that angle by sequestering themselves in a secluded old mansion in Encino equipped with primo acoustics, and a lot of atmosphere. Of course (in case the gruesome cold open wasn’t a tip-off), the house turns out to be haunted AF. And the evil spirits inhabiting it decide to make Dave Grohl their vessel of menace.
There’s some other gobbledygook about the house’s past, and the Foos completing an evil song that’ll permanently unleash the house demons, of course, but who cares? Studio 666‘s reasons for being boil down to two questions: Is it funny, and is it scary? The answer is sometimes and sort of, respectively.
In some ways, the movie struggles just to clear the low bar it’s set for itself. Will Forte turns up for an amusing bit as a headbanger delivery driver, and Whitney Cummings jumps into Wacky Next-Door Neighbor Mode with panache, but the chuckles don’t exactly fly fast and furious. That liability’s amplified by the fact that most of the Foo Fighters do not possess comic timing (props to bassist Nate Mendel and guitarist Pat Smear, who both come off pretty well by the end). And there’s no damned excuse for this movie’s 105-minute run time, an eternity by horror movie standards.
Fortunately, Studio 666 actually fares pretty well on the horror front, with director BJ McDonnell delivering enough atmosphere and gore/shock setpieces to get most horror fans through the slow spots. Stick out that pokey middle section, and you’ll be rewarded with some fine decapitations, glowing-eyed demons, head-squashing, and chainsaw mayhem (some of which was provided by veteran makeup wizard Tony Gardner‘s Alterian studios).
Dave Grohl himself proves to be one of the movie’s biggest assets. Grohl’s a galvanizing figure in rock, to be sure: He followed up his tenure as Nirvana’s drummer by forming the much glossier, radio-ready Foo Fighters, and he’s been branded an opportunist more than once (I’ve never gotten this, as Grohl always seemed like an OK guy from this corner). Best of all, he’s kinda comic gold here, delivering most of the jokes that do work with spot-on timing, comedic expressiveness, and a laudable readiness to poke fun at himself.
Grohl’s enthusiasm elevates Studio 666 from direct-to-video oblivion to something that sorta works on a theater screen, even if it’s not gonna dethrone A Hard Day’s Night‘s place in the rock-movie pantheon. And with a script and imagery that gleefully reference some horror-nerd deep cuts, there’s no doubt that Dave Grohl’s heart—and the entrails he chews on periodically in his first feature-film lead role—are in the right place.
Studio 666 opens exclusively in theaters Friday, February 25. Header image courtesy Open Road Films