Color Me Obsessed: A Film About the Replacements

How do you profile a band without using any of there music? It's not a new dilemma — plenty of el-cheapo, straight-to-DVD docs have done just that, some with interesting results. But director Gorman Bechard claims he never intended to included tunes from Minneapolis's much loved screw-ups, the Replacements. Unlike other docs, Color Me Obsessed doesn't skirt the rights issues with live versions and archival interviews. In fact, not a single member of the Mats appears in Bechard's film. Instead, he bills his movie as "a potentially true story" and relies on the friends, colleagues and fans that were there to tell the band's tale. These aren't just fly-by-night talking heads — the director rounds up staff from the band's first label, Twin/Tone, including owner Peter Jesperson, producers (Tommy Ramone, who worked on Tim, makes an appearance), critic Robert Cristgau and even Grant Hart and Greg Norton from rivals Hüsker Dü (they're interviewed separately). The film follows the band's story from future singer/guitarist Paul Westerberg hiding in the bushes, listening to brothers Bob and Tommy Stinson jamming in their parents house, to their unruly early days through their transformation into a critically adored group, with Let It Be, to slicked-up major label stars. For the most part, his approach works. The Replacements were a band whose legend has always far outstripped their recorded output and, depending on how drunk they were, even some live gigs. And they have no shortage of admirers ready to sing the group's praises, defend their favourite album or share a hilarious run-in with one of the quartet's often-inebriated members. The film offers little beyond postscript regarding the group's post-Replacement work, a particularly glaring omission given the tragedy of Bob Stinson's death, which receives little more than passing mention. For the most part, Bechard even eschews photos of the group, ensuring that the old adage "show don't tell" is thrown right out the window. This makes for rather dull viewing — Color Me Obsessed would have actually been a terrific podcast or radio doc, but that would have only reached a quarter of the potential audience. Extras feature deleted scenes, including some fun animated sequences that were meant to transition from album to album. In his laughably serious director commentary, Bechard claims that by not involving the band or their music in the film he's "breaking the rules," just like the band, and if you don't like his film, you're not a real Replacements fan. Yes, the film works and, yes, Bechard is challenging the rock-doc norm by refusing to involve the band or their music, even though he could have. But that doesn't change the fact that there's a voice missing, leaving viewers a tad unsatisfied. Color Me Obsessed is a film for Replacement fans, but without the context of the group's music, it's unlikely to draw in the uninitiated.