Publication Date: 09-12-2025

This is Spinal Tap (1984) review

Dir. Rob Reiner

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★★

Rob Reiner’s This is Spinal Tap highlights much of the goofiness that is almost inherent to rock and roll bands and the culture that surrounds them and, as a result, creates a successful mockumentary that satirizes these quirks. It’s a tricky line to tow, one Reiner does confidently, essentially operating on a field of landmines where, at relatively any moment, the film could fall apart or lose its direction. It’s ever-so close to being a milquetoast, lukewarm satire in the regard that it laughs at its subjects rather than laughing with them, but Reiner’s confidence and total immersion in this high-energy world, with the aid of his many fun subjects, keeps matters interesting and worthwhile.

The film revolves around the main three members of a (fictional) British rock band known as Spinal Tap, who are known as Britain’s loudest band. The main members are David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean), Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest), and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer), all of whom are prepping the release of their new album Smell the Glove. It’s 1982 and the band is doing its first tour across the United States in several years, working with documentarian Marty Di Bergi (Rob Reiner) and his film crew to bring them the kind of high-octane energy for which their concerts are widely known as well as intimate, backstage looks at recording sessions between the members.

By “intimate,” I mean the band has no problem showing Di Bergi all of the quirks that make them unique and versatile. Consider the amplifiers they use when recording and performing. Nigel points out that all of the volume dials on their amplifying equipment go to “11,” instead of the conventional and predictable “10.” This sort of summarizes the group very well; they push the limit and go beyond what is expected. However, Di Bergi can’t help but bring rationality to the situation. “Why don’t you just make ten louder and make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?,” he asks. “These go to eleven,” Nigel affirms.

This is Spinal Tap is filled with moments of deadpan or situational humor in a fairly high-brow sense, meaning this isn’t a film that cops out or scales backwards to rely on physical comedy in an attempt to make the audiences laugh. As silly as it occasionally is, especially when we’re subjected to hearing Spinal Tap perform their often immaturely themed songs, Reiner and co-writers (all three of the band members) carry their project with a certain sense of sophistication.

It’s as if the film is a train going far faster than it should be and doing a lot more than it was ever believed to be capable of doing. The performances and execution is so deft that one could believe Spinal Tap is a real band and the film an authentic exercise, not one meant to parody. Reiner could’ve easily lampooned rock and roll culture in a way that was easy to recognize, turning everyone involved into caricatures that would’ve prompted heartier, but less memorable, belly-laughs. Instead, he chose a more difficult route, favoring a certain realism even amidst the film’s daffier sensibilities.

With this approach, Reiner is careful to keep the band sympathetic, while making the sound, concerts, and overall design of the film boldly believable. Rock and roll is largely predicated upon an authentic thesis with a fresh or revealing approach and, by doing just that, This is Spinal Tap overwhelmingly succeeds.

NOTE: Take a close look at This is Spinal Tap‘s IMDB page (specifically the rating) next time you visit too. You’ll likely not be disappointed.

Starring: Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer. Directed by: Rob Reiner.