So Wrong They're Right Russ Forster and Dan Sutherland

In 1994, the editors of Chicago zine 8-Track Mind jumped in a van and took a trans-American journey to discover what kind of person collects 8-tracks. Conventional wisdom had it that the clunky, endlessly-looping, constantly snapping tapes were consigned to the trash heap of history, but enough eccentrics had kept the faith to justify an enjoyable lo-fi documentary. To be sure, some of the arguments for the format are hard to buy, including claims of a faux-communist rebellion against planned obsolescence, but the participants are all endlessly entertaining types who will be instantly recognisable to readers of this magazine. As the participants wax poetic about player makes and models, their most prized tapes and methods for repairing broken cartridges, you enjoy them more than their information and admire their lovely devotion to a lost and agreeably retro technological art. Included is the hyped-up woman who was banned from Goodwill for her single-minded obsession, the garage band with a mountain of several thousand tapes, and the person who was shot for playing Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music full blast in his car. You'll want to hang out with the whole loopy bunch, with the possible exception of the teenage girl who's into "alienation." Extras include a commentary by co-director Russ Forster, who offers much fascinating background on the film and its subjects, a series of "blink and you'll miss them" celebrity interviews (including T-Bone Burnett, Tiny Tim, David Byrne, Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth and some sallow guy from Black Oak Arkansas), episodes from the tongue-in-cheek 8-Track Mind videozine (with a eulogy for one of the film's participants), a "historical" slideshow that reiterates points from the movie, and another "behind the scenes" slideshow. (Other Cinema,