Roger Waters and The Scary Potential of Professionalism

When Pink Floyd first released The Wall in 1979 it drew a lot of criticism from some of the more radical critics of the time for being 'self-indulgent' grammar school angst, and so on at a time when progressive rock was seen as not politically correct, to say the least!Needless to say, while The Wall has now become established as a major achievement in rock history, the critics that hated it have been all but forgotten. In the new film release of The Wall performed live by Roger Waters and his band, we get a superb demonstration of how professionalism can push creative ventures way beyond expected levels of satisfaction into truly remarkable territory.

Heroes and performers can disappoint of course. The sports stars that fail to turn in a world class showing on the day that it matters are a good example.But professionalism when taken to its height can result in a level of consistency that almost defies belief. The Wall starts with a dramatic crescendo and builds from there, in a display of audacity and imagination on a scale very few artists can contemplate. As the concert progresses, interspersed with the narrative of Waters himself driving down to southern Italy to discover his father's war memorial, one wonders how such a down-to-earth seeming guy could pull off such a spectacle. Back in the stadium, the imagery becomes more potent, symbols overlaying symbols as we are taken further into the existential battle zone of Pink, the rock star protagonist's tortured world. Grandiose, yes. Subtle, no! Just when you think things can't get any more intense, we are taken to a new level. Waters clearly having the time of his life while turning in a performance of measured perfection.

Should we care about the fate of a successful rock star that has made a mess of his life? The Wall as a symbol takes us deeper, as Liam Neeson points out in the tribute/ introduction to this spectacle. For him, it represents the barrier he built between himself and the world, freezing out the possibility of a meaningful connection with existence. The Wall is an inner wall that we build as protection from a threatening and unmanageable world, between what we see as our vulnerable selves and a world that we must at all costs keep excluded. When seen in this way, Water's exaggerated characters, including the protagonist, fall into place as archetypal rather than specific. At the same time, the connection with Water's own circumstances are made ambiguous by the parallel story line, the loss of father and grandfather in two world wars and his obsession with wartime imagery.

The concert finale of The Trial brings us the magnificent animations of Gerald Scarfe's wife, mother and judge projected in monstrous proportions on a wall that covers the entire stage. Waters holds his nerve flawlessly to the end with the excellent back up musicians going with him the whole distance.

If you haven't acquainted yourself with the phenomenon that is Roger Water's The Wall, this new release is the perfect opportunity. War, loss, Oedipus, isolation, mental disintegration, neo-fascism, drug addiction, oppression, dictators, despair. It's all here. What more could you ask for?