
No one in Spinal Tap ever worked at Choice Children's Catering (or anything remotely like it) between gigs.
But then again, Spinal Tap was a fictional heavy metal band from Britain, and Anvil is a real-life heavy metal band from Canada that traces its roots to the 1970s.
At times, though, you have to remind yourself that guitarist Steve "Lips" Kudlow really is Steve "Lips" Kudlow and drummer Robb Reiner is really Robb Reiner in "Anvil! The Story of Anvil," a documentary opening Friday at the Harris Theater, Downtown.
They're real band mates, not make-believe musicians, with names such as Nigel Tufnel, David St. Hubbins and Derek Smalls brilliantly played by actors in fake wigs and accents.
Anvil once rocked out on a 1984 Japanese tour alongside the likes of Scorpion, Whitesnake and Bon Jovi. But unlike the other acts, the musicians didn't achieve superstardom, plain old stardom or even make enough money to quit their day jobs.
Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich recalls when Anvil first arrived on the scene he was convinced, "This is a statement, like literally, these guys are gonna turn the music world upside down." The only thing that turned upside down were their hopes that they could attract thousands or hundreds to a show rather than scores or dozens of people.
Lips, co-founder, lead vocalist and guitarist, carts coolers of pizza, shepherd's pie and meatballs to schools around Toronto while sporting the sort of shoulder-length, wavy hair that once was the signature of '80s hair bands (without the visible bald spot).
Director Sacha Gervasi first met Anvil in the early 1980s and later worked as a roadie during shows at Canadian hockey arenas. He toured with Anvil twice more and, after co-writing the screenplays for "The Big Tease" and "The Terminal," took a stab at directing with this doc about the band.
He follows them on a European tour that is disastrous and poorly managed by a blond-haired agent who falls for one of the band mates. No, they're not making this stuff up and she doesn't join the group on stage with a tambourine.
"Things went drastically wrong but at least there was a tour for it to go wrong on," reasons Lips, the odd man out in a family where his siblings are an accountant, businesswoman and endocrinologist.
Drummer Reiner, the son of a Hungarian Jewish father who survived Auschwitz and wanted his son to be happy, likes to paint in his off hours, modeling some of his work after Edward Hopper. The two are like brothers, including the moment where one grabs the other by the lapels and calls him a loser ... and fires him.
"Anvil" charts the band's attempt to return to the recording studio and the promise of old, even as it allows wives and siblings to weigh in on the decades-long chase for recognition or simply appreciation.
Lips looks like an aging fanboy or delivery boy as he runs off to greet drummer Tommy Aldridge with "Tommy! Tommy!" or as he drops off a package at a record label. He knows the odds are against him.
"99.9 percent of the time, the guy never listens to the [expletive] tape and his desk is piled up like this with other entries into the lottery of rock 'n' roll," he says, adding that band members in their 20s have a far easier time than musicians in their 50s.
You cannot help but root for Anvil or, technically, the two founding members, since the others are supporting players or extras in their drama. Lips and Robb have been chasing this dream for more than three decades and even if you dislike heavy metal, you can appreciate the doggedness of the pursuit.
No one asks when the dream dies or is put on the shelf forever. What happens if they get to age 60? Is that time to call it quits?
As it turns out, serendipity hands Gervasi the perfect ending and he was smart enough to be able to capture it. He certainly is no Martin Scorsese when it comes to music documentaries but he's there when the band plays for 174 in a hall with 10,000 capacity and when Lips tries a second (or would that be third?) job to raise a little extra money.
After watching "Anvil," you may never ignore another homegrown CD release party or chance to buy a T-shirt or disc hauled from the back of a band's van. Although everyone loves a winner, the story of the last-place finisher in the race is just as irresistible.