“Studio 666” is all about creative spirit, in this case, a possessed one. In order to record their tenth album, Grohl and his bandmates (Taylor Hawkins, Rami Jaffee, Chris Shiflett, Pat Smear, and Nate Mendel) hole up in a house in Encino, which they learn only too late is a hallowed deathtrap. At first it’s Grohl’s fixation on the acoustics for a drum sound that comes with a spooky resonance; later on it’s a full-on demonic possession when he ventures to a hidden dungeon, after listening to music recorded by a band who previously stayed at the house in the ‘90s before they were brutally murdered. In this script’s goofs on ego and musicianship, a weird-acting Grohl then gets his confused band to record the progressively strange ideas he has in his head, including an (awesome) riff in that key of “L sharp.” Suddenly they’re not working on an album but a song, one that gets longer, heavier, and deadlier as it reaches completion.
Directed by BJ McDonnell, “Studio 666” certainly thrives on its casting, and it’s easy to see how this premise of a band losing its mind to their leader’s ego wouldn’t be as funny if it weren’t real musicians going through it like a Satanic episode of “Scooby-Doo!”. But Grohl has enough kooky charisma at the center, whether he’s the hyper bandleader who always runs up to his bandmates like he’s their peppy head coach, or if he’s possessed by an evil spirit and harnessing every bit of his inner Jack Black. Either way, Grohl’s elasticity opens up a future in acting, whether he wants to play more dorky dad-like figures or fang-bearing monsters. And he gives great furrowed brow.
The comedy within “Studio 666” shows a promising sense of humor but underwhelms it. Sometimes it throws in goofy asides as in a Lionel Richie-inspired moment, or a couple droll sequences about possession that owe to the likes of Taika Waititi’s “What We Do in the Shadows.” But aside from Grohl’s amusing jokes about his celebrity (“The best parking whenever I want for eternity!” he boasts) it’s just not as funny as it could be; you want it to be weirder, more random, since it has so little to lose. Will Forte and Whitney Cummings appear for brief supporting comic parts, and those are hit-and-miss too, easy jokes about fans or wannabe groupies. The movie’s weakest comic bids come from the forced banter between the different Foo Fighters, which show just how much the bandmates find on-screen comfort in being either stiff or hammy.
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