It...MIGHT Get Loud

But it doesn't, really. For his latest, Davis Guggenheim ('An Inconvenient Truth') fulfills the rock guitar geek's wet dream of bringing together and showcasing the careers of three of the greats: Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White. The film is a scattershot documentary in which the three reminisce through their very beginnings: setting up their very own bedroom studios, building their first guitar from scratch, and cutting their teeth playing jumpy blues standards on local television shows. There isn't any real chronological succession of events here, but you hardly care as it's immensely satisfying watching them go back to their high school, fumble through original 4 track demos of what would become classics, and play for us the first records that ever really inspired them. The most satisfying of which is watching Jimmy Page, as giddy as a school boy, take us through Link Wray's 'Rumble' (maybe THE greatest riff of all time, folks). As simple as it is, he can't get the smile of his face; and neither can we.

Interspersed throughout all this is a sort of guitar forum, in which the three come together to discuss origins, methods, and influences. This is what most will come to the film for, and that's probably why most are going to walk away from it disappointed. The only amusing part of all this is watching the three of them jam on each other's songs.

Guggenheim seems to treat all three the same, but you can't help feeling that he's a bigger U2 fan than anything. One sentimental bit about each of them reminiscing about their first guitars is set to U2's 'One Tree Hill'. It's an easy target and it does work, but it's not much of a guitar song. Guggenheim also attempts a bit of drama in the threes' lives, but it just comes off feeling like he's trying too hard. Guggenheim's biggest misstep is Jack White. The film succeeds in covering three generations of guitar players, but fails to come up with three uniquely different styles as White is basically the Stevie Ray Vaughan of his generation ( a shameless showman who's doing to Page what Vaughan did to Hendrix). I fail to think of a more suitable replacement, but the White Stripes have always felt like a hungover Led Zeppelin, with Page and Bonham still in bed and Plant left to play drums with Jones on guitar. It doesn't help that White comes off as standoffish and self-righteous. He dresses like a dustbowl-era magician, he smokes cigarettes like a tool, and he plays little more than hundred year old standards (he even includes what might be his son - dressed exactly like a miniature version of himself).

Overall, the real joy here is seeing the archival footage of each of the threes' bands - the highlights being an early and aggressive clip of U2's 'The Electric Co.' and Zeppelin tearing into 'How Many More Times'. Other than that, it doesn't really get too loud, but you will want to go home, tune up, and plug in. I know I did.

One last thought: For all the emphasis on the electric guitar here, why is the final jam all accoustic?