The modern Christmas has become a time for over-indulgence and excess, still for families but tainted with the everyday cynicism of 21st Century life. It is, therefore, rather apt that one of the standout musical highlights of this past Yule was a documentary on BBC4 about a pop band from the late eighties/early nineties, the quick-burning global phenomenon that was the brothers Goss, Bros.
It's hard to believe now but thirty years ago two peroxide-haired identical twins from Surrey, Matt (vocals) and Luke (drums), made the wearing of Grolsch bottle-tops on shoes a popular fashion choice for their fans. Managed by ex-Pet Shop Boys manager Tom Watkins, and with chum Craig (aka Ken) on bass to temporarily rounding out the band as a trio, Bros briefly dominated pop charts, award ceremonies and the hearts of screaming fans all over the world. Catchy, slick and over-produced pop, with annoying vocal affectations that borrowed heavily from Michael Jackson, it's fair to say that Bros weren't my cup of tea (although, thanks to a chum of mine's near constant playing of When Will I Be Famous?, they were an act I was all too familiar with).
Taking its title from a Terry Wogan sound bite played near the beginning that queries the band what they'd do when the screaming stops, the film follows the band's reunion after years in pop's wilderness. Bizarrely the famed Irish presenter is also just about the only person in the piece to mention the third member of the band. Craig Logan (aka Ken) left the and in 1989 due to illness and, whilst it's understandable that he may not have wanted to be involved in the return of Bros, his absence from the film feels very much like a constant bass playing elephant-in-the-room (or at least it would if there were space between the twins' egos).
Following Craig's departure the brothers continued for two more albums, with subsequent singles charting lower in the Top 40 than their heyday, before finaly imploding in 1992. The pair subsequently forged solo careers in America, one in music and the other in movies, but the cause of and fallout from the split strained their relationship to breaking point. After barely speaking for nearly twenty five years the brothers decided to return for a series of reunion gigs, the often fractious process of which is captured on film in fascinating car crash detail.
It would be very easy to label Bros: After The Screaming Stops as a real-life Spinal Tap; whilst admittedly peppered with a jaw-dropping series of Tufnell-esque one-liners from lead singer Matt there is more at work here. The derailed relationship of the two brothers sits firmly at the heart of this botox-and-all look at the band's return. Opening in media res with a spat between the two brothers in a This Morning dressing room, a suitably hissy display of ego-fuelled temper from one that the other tries and fails to calm, the film then rolls back to before the reunion rehearsals began to introduce the players.
Luke lives in Los Angeles, ploughing a furrow in direct-to-DVD movies, whilst Matt has become a king of Las Vegas, receiving an icon award from the city's entertainment honchos. Despite their proximity they are removed from each other's lives, Luke is focused on getting his self-penned film completed, Matt seemingly immersed in a life that is detached from reality (adjacent to an ornate chair that forms his conversation corner there hangs a painting of his pet Bulldog, an item which has quickly become an internet meme). Matt has a selection of bandannas to help him focus, some joyously unfiltered rambling inanities and the founder of the Pussycat Dolls, Luke has his wife Shirley to lend support and kudos from famed character actor Ron Perlman.
With the introductions completed the duo are reunited in a nondescript rehearsal room in London where, in the month leading up to their reunion gig at The O2, a series of arguments and bitter reminisces ponder the question in the viewer's mind as to whether the planned reunion gig will actually take place. There is undeniably a love between these two, not just the bond that siblings have but the experiences that these particular two have shared, but fame and ego have tested the pair and the reasons for their split fester beneath the tan and plastic surgery; that roller-coaster relationship is what makes this documentary such an uncomfortably enjoyable watch.
I wasn't exactly in the target demographic for the band when they first appeared on the scene, and spending 87 minutes watching a boy band painfully reunite wasn't exactly on my Christmas to-do list, but a wave of positive posts on Twitter lured me into firing up iPlayer. This story of the two brothers' journey in and out of the music industry might be one enjoyed with a heavy shot of schadenfreude, at the end of which comes the realisation that Matt may never be a guy you want to be stuck in a lift with and Luke really really really deserves a hug, and that the old adage "you can't choose your family" is truer than you think.
It's hard to believe now but thirty years ago two peroxide-haired identical twins from Surrey, Matt (vocals) and Luke (drums), made the wearing of Grolsch bottle-tops on shoes a popular fashion choice for their fans. Managed by ex-Pet Shop Boys manager Tom Watkins, and with chum Craig (aka Ken) on bass to temporarily rounding out the band as a trio, Bros briefly dominated pop charts, award ceremonies and the hearts of screaming fans all over the world. Catchy, slick and over-produced pop, with annoying vocal affectations that borrowed heavily from Michael Jackson, it's fair to say that Bros weren't my cup of tea (although, thanks to a chum of mine's near constant playing of When Will I Be Famous?, they were an act I was all too familiar with).
Taking its title from a Terry Wogan sound bite played near the beginning that queries the band what they'd do when the screaming stops, the film follows the band's reunion after years in pop's wilderness. Bizarrely the famed Irish presenter is also just about the only person in the piece to mention the third member of the band. Craig Logan (aka Ken) left the and in 1989 due to illness and, whilst it's understandable that he may not have wanted to be involved in the return of Bros, his absence from the film feels very much like a constant bass playing elephant-in-the-room (or at least it would if there were space between the twins' egos).
Following Craig's departure the brothers continued for two more albums, with subsequent singles charting lower in the Top 40 than their heyday, before finaly imploding in 1992. The pair subsequently forged solo careers in America, one in music and the other in movies, but the cause of and fallout from the split strained their relationship to breaking point. After barely speaking for nearly twenty five years the brothers decided to return for a series of reunion gigs, the often fractious process of which is captured on film in fascinating car crash detail.
It would be very easy to label Bros: After The Screaming Stops as a real-life Spinal Tap; whilst admittedly peppered with a jaw-dropping series of Tufnell-esque one-liners from lead singer Matt there is more at work here. The derailed relationship of the two brothers sits firmly at the heart of this botox-and-all look at the band's return. Opening in media res with a spat between the two brothers in a This Morning dressing room, a suitably hissy display of ego-fuelled temper from one that the other tries and fails to calm, the film then rolls back to before the reunion rehearsals began to introduce the players.
Luke lives in Los Angeles, ploughing a furrow in direct-to-DVD movies, whilst Matt has become a king of Las Vegas, receiving an icon award from the city's entertainment honchos. Despite their proximity they are removed from each other's lives, Luke is focused on getting his self-penned film completed, Matt seemingly immersed in a life that is detached from reality (adjacent to an ornate chair that forms his conversation corner there hangs a painting of his pet Bulldog, an item which has quickly become an internet meme). Matt has a selection of bandannas to help him focus, some joyously unfiltered rambling inanities and the founder of the Pussycat Dolls, Luke has his wife Shirley to lend support and kudos from famed character actor Ron Perlman.
With the introductions completed the duo are reunited in a nondescript rehearsal room in London where, in the month leading up to their reunion gig at The O2, a series of arguments and bitter reminisces ponder the question in the viewer's mind as to whether the planned reunion gig will actually take place. There is undeniably a love between these two, not just the bond that siblings have but the experiences that these particular two have shared, but fame and ego have tested the pair and the reasons for their split fester beneath the tan and plastic surgery; that roller-coaster relationship is what makes this documentary such an uncomfortably enjoyable watch.
I wasn't exactly in the target demographic for the band when they first appeared on the scene, and spending 87 minutes watching a boy band painfully reunite wasn't exactly on my Christmas to-do list, but a wave of positive posts on Twitter lured me into firing up iPlayer. This story of the two brothers' journey in and out of the music industry might be one enjoyed with a heavy shot of schadenfreude, at the end of which comes the realisation that Matt may never be a guy you want to be stuck in a lift with and Luke really really really deserves a hug, and that the old adage "you can't choose your family" is truer than you think.