Plot: A hilarious headbanger finally makes it after struggling for decades, revealing it was all because of a childhood incident when the dark forces of rock ‘n’ roll reached out from the grave.
Review: I was only eight years old in 1989. Still, I remember this pivotal year that brought the industrial power and angst of Nine Inch Nails‘s “Pretty Hate Machine,” the birth of the internet, and a tectonic shift in the music landscape, paving the way for bands like Nirvana, Stone Temple Pilots, and Hole to unseat rock ‘n’ roll as the dominant way to rock and piss off your parents. Before the ’90s became a fashion crisis of drooping JNCO jeans, Sharpie marker skin tattoos, and bathroom sinks stained with Manic Panic, there were people like Dean Murdoch, a headbanger on the verge of emerging from his heavy metal cocoon in the small town of Haylen, Manitoba, Canada.
Wiping the slate clean of past film projects, Deaner ’89 explores Dean Murdock’s evolution from a beloved hockey jock to a mythical figure in the rock scene, known for his legendary backstage antics, unbridled enthusiasm for partying, and combining the Métis fiddle with a Warlock bass to create music so “epic” it makes a war between angels and devils in the ears of those who listen.
Paul Spense stars as the Deaner, aka the Governor of Given’r, a local hero of the hockey rink with a condition that makes him appear older than your average 17-year-old. Like metalheads I knew in the ’80s, Dean Murdock is a bold, unpredictable force of nature with a good heart beating beneath a worn leather jacket. 48-year-old Paul Spence’s portrayal of Dean is a bit awkward because of the age gap, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t nail the vibe of a 17-year-old during a time of self-discovery. Spence’s energy overflows as Dean parties his way into a stupor, with the actor adding fun flourishes to Dean’s lingering immaturity, like Dean rocking out in front of a mirror in his tighty-whiteys, or violently dismounting his bike. I used to do the same thing with my BMX, and seeing Dean mimic my old habit made me smile. While Spence partially plays the role of a 17-year-old for laughs, it ultimately comes together for a solid comedic performance.
Dean’s rock ‘n’ roll awakening begins when he opens the trunk of his late father’s belongings. After trying on his dad’s old leather jacket, thumbing through his vinyl collection, and smoking a joint laced with cocaine, Dean feels the power of rock coursing through his veins. From this moment, Dean’s curiosity about the rock ‘n’ roll genre and his Métis (a group of Indigenous peoples in Canada) heritage grows, clouding his judgment with possibility and reckless abandon.
Aspects of this discovery turn him into an asshole, but only so much. Dean is all protection and heart regarding his sister Jen, played endearingly by Star Slade. Dean and Jen share a restored sense of place as revelations about their Métis background arise. Spence and Slade’s sibling chemistry is one of my favorite aspects of Deaner ’89. An ease between them gives the impression they’ve known each other for years. I could easily watch a road trip movie with the two of them searching for Métis people who knew Dean’s father.
Other memorable performances include Will Sasso (The Three Stooges, Happy Gilmore, Young Sheldon) as Dean’s adoptive father, Glen, and Mary Walsh (This Hour Has 22 Minutes, Broad Appeal) as May, Dean’s girlfriend’s aunt, who acts as Dean’s teacher in the ways of rock n roll. Sasso’s Glen is a sloth-like yet frisky figure at home and a well-intentioned hockey coach on the ice. Relying on clever line delivery instead of physical comedy, Sasso’s Glen represents a man trying to live a simple life with as little friction as possible. He won’t win any Father of the Year awards, but his heart is in the right place.
There’s no other way to describe Mary Walsh’s May than she’s an absolute pisser. She’s the relative of that weird friend you had in Junior High, the one whose dad sold you weed and let you drink in the basement. She brings comedy and good vibes whenever she’s on screen, even if the partying isn’t good for her health. Looking out for May’s best interest is Kitty, Dean’s no-nonsense girlfriend, played by Maddy Foley. Despite Kitty’s limited screen time, Foley plays the role well, with Kitty being the Bonnie to Dean’s Clyde in troublemaking and bringing him back to earth when he gets carried away.
Like any other 17-year-old, Dean is often angst-ridden, occasionally chauvinistic, and flat-out difficult to tolerate. While wanting to party with Dean, I also think he needs a good smack upside the head. Dean’s transformation from a hockey scholarship hopeful to a disillusioned youth contending with an identity crisis is anything but smooth. That’s to be understood, though, especially when a local biker gang stalks your every move. Biker gangs are real in Manitoba, and Deaner ’89 makes a point of including one as the film’s villainous group. They want Dean to throw his next hockey game, but he’s not about to listen.
While I appreciate the inclusion of the biker gang for authenticity’s sake, elements of the plot involving them feel like riding a motorcycle with flat tires. The gang is overtly goofy in how they disturb the peace, from ruining the local pie-baking contest to fixing high school hockey games for cash. While mildly amusing, their contribution to the story eventually runs out of gas.
People expecting a laugh-a-minute comedy like Wayne’s World or This is Spinal Tap will likely find Deaner ’89 to be surprisingly tame in its comedy. I laughed more at zany situations and entertaining character quirks than anything else. In a way, Dean and Jen’s search for answers to their Métis heritage adds a hint of “seriousness” to the film, though only Jen’s thirst for knowledge exudes urgency. Dean’s got too many new demons to focus on one thing at a time, including finding his people promptly.
Comedy is subjective. Everyone knows this. Deaner ’89 will only work for some, but it worked for me. As a child of the ’80s, I find Deaner ’89 nostalgic in ways I did not anticipate. Dean Murdock reminds me of older classmen I went to high school with, the guys with bandanas to catch their bangs, obsessing over muscle cars and lamenting Metallica’s downfall. They’d smoke at the bus stop, their ears covered with headphones, lost in Ministry’s “The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste” or Sepultura’s “Beneath the Remains.” My friend Matt used to hide a flask full of Jack Daniels in his jacket pocket, sneaking swigs during art and history classes—the salt of the earth.
Look. You’re reading a review from a guy who grew up wanting to be one of these knuckleheads, within reason. I killed multiple Sony Discmans listening to Megadeth’s “Countdown to Extinction,” Testament’s “Low,” and Opeth’s “Still Life” in my quest to scour the rock ‘n’ roll landscape. Deaner ’89 channels the transitional period between the release of Soundgarden’s “Louder Than Love” to Alice in Chains taking up the ’90s torch with “Facelift.” It’s an origin story with low stakes but demonstrates confidence when taking you back to a time and place with a specific type of person. It’s got a killer soundtrack, too. The song selection alone is a reason to watch the movie.
I’ve watched a lot of movies this year. Deaner ’89 stands out among the bunch—not for being a laugh-a-minute gas or blowing my mind narratively, but for its bizarre sense of heart, attention to detail, and portrayal of the life-altering effects of rock ‘n’ roll. For the record, I’d give this a 6.5 if we did halfsies, but alas. Check out Deaner ’89 and find out for yourself if you want to shotgun a beer and destroy speakers with Dean Murdock.
