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TV Review: Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck

Nirvana singer's tumultuous life is laid out in great detail.

Review by Brandon Wolfe

The demons of Kurt Cobain, frontman for the mythic grunge band Nirvana, have been well-documented in the 21 years since his suicide. The singer’s battles with drug addiction and emotional instability are by now as much a part of his legacy as his music. What makes Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck, the in-depth documentary examining Cobain's life, unique rather than overly familiar is the intimacy it displays concerning its subject. The film was allowed access to a wealth of recorded material documenting Cobain through several stages of his life, from childhood home movies to private bathroom conversations with ride-or-die wife, Courtney Love. We are also given detailed glimpses at Cobain’s journals and drawings. Montage of Heck is Cobain’s tormented soul laid bare. It’s so personal, so naked, that it feels like an invasion of privacy.

The film depicts Cobain as an awkward child and teen who channeled his angst into his music, producing a raw, thoroughly untraditional sound. Cobain’s mournful rasp coupled with his anguished lyrics lent his songs a piercing uniqueness, as if the uncertainties and disaffectedness of life, of youth, had been rendered aurally. Other bands from the grunge era also conveyed stark emotions through their music, but none matched the exposed-nerve severity of Nirvana. Cobain’s turmoil, his self-loathing, was the fuel that powered Nirvana’s climb to the top of the charts, as well as their march directly into the open arms of alienated youth. But worldwide success wasn’t the redemptive cure for what ailed Cobain. Reaching the top of the world only meant his fall would be that much steeper.


Superstar status was no gift to a fragile soul like Cobain. An introvert by nature, he never embraced the crest of fame the way many of his rock-god contemporaries did (his frequent, caustic jibes at the expense of Guns N' Roses’ Axl Rose hint at the vast gulf separating the sensibilities of the two men). Even with the world genuflecting before him, Cobain struggled with receiving both praise and criticism in equal measure. He couldn’t shake being told he wasn’t good enough and couldn’t accept being told of his greatness. Rather than basking in fortune and glory, fame was just another source of agony.

The unprecedented access granted to director Brett Morgen is truly awe-inspiring. We are presented with home movies, photographs, archival footage, handwritten notes, long-forgotten newspaper articles and candid interviews with many people in Cobain’s life, including bandmate Krist Novoselic and Courtney Love (drummer Dave Grohl, present in ancient clips, is conspicuously absent from the talking-head portions of the film). In addition to all of this, the film complements Cobain’s private journal entries with animated depictions of the events being told via narration, bringing the man’s innermost thoughts and painful memories vividly to life. And then there’s the music. In addition to the actual Nirvana tracks that populate the soundtrack, Montage of Heck also employs orchestral renderings of the band’s iconic songs, which often imbues the film with a haunting, otherworldly quality.

By the time Montage of Heck inexorably winds down to Cobain’s decline and death, the portrait of impending doom, of hopeless inevitability, becomes a bit too much to take. We see Cobain in the throes of chemical dependency, his enabling, mutually destructive relationship with Love expediting his downward spiral. But while it’s easy to dwell upon the sadness and darkness of Kurt Cobain’s troubled existence, Montage of Heck also does a fantastic job of showing us the human being at the core of the maelstrom. Cobain’s humor and playfulness are readily apparent quite often (witness his very funny impersonation of his caterwauling contemporary, Chris Cornell). It’s also there in his all-encompassing love and devotion toward his baby daughter, Francis Bean (who acted as executive producer on the film), who becomes the only source of light in the pitch-black hallway of his final days. It’s in these moments that Montage of Heck becomes more than a solemn look at an embattled soul marching toward oblivion, by locating the stray fragments of joy emanating from the abyss. Pity Kurt couldn’t have found more of them.

Discuss this review with fellow SJF fans on Facebook. On Twitter, follow us at @SandwichJohnFilms, and follow author Brandon Wolfe at @BrandonTheWolfe.



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