Ali Catterall How do you follow up a documentary that plays out like a tragi-comedy? Easy: make a tragi-comedy that masquerades as a documentary.After the brilliant Lost In La Mancha, a hair-raising account of Terry Gilliam's aborted efforts to film The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, directors Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe return with another tale of industry implosion - though this time the industry under the spotlight is the music business of the mid-1970s, characterised by pan-sexual hijinks, druggy indulgence, a burgeoning punk scene and, we're invited to believe, the most jaw-dropping double act of the decade. And that includes Bernie Winters and Schnorbitz.Unfortunately, Brothers Of The Head, suffused throughout with a sense of impending doom, is on a hiding to nothing: a cursory glance at the two previous attempts to adapt Brian Aldiss's works for the screen - Frankenstein Unbound, and Artificial Intelligence: AI - should have sounded klaxons. And, though no fault of his own, screenwriter Tony Grisoni's CV doesn't immediately inspire confidence; neither Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas or Tideland received the smoothest of rides, critically or commercially. Garnish this strange brew with a latterly unbankable director (Ken Russell, cameoing as himself) and it begins to look like deliberate self-sabotage.Conjoined twins Tom and Barry Howe (real-life identical siblings Harry and Luke Treadaway) grow up in an isolated cottage on the windswept shores of L'Estrange Head, on England's east coast. The twins are joined at the chest by a Cronenberg-esquire protuberance, and it's pretty much taken as read that a surgical procedure would more than likely kill them.When they hit 18, their father sells them to ailing music impresario Zak Bedderwick (Addfield). Recognising a lucrative novelty act when he sees one, Bedderwick wastes no time in installing the pretty things in his country estate and grooming them for stardom. "Hand on heart, I never exploited anyone who didn't want to be exploited" says Bedderwick. He's all heart.Under the tutelage of musician Paul Day (Dick) and the strong-arm tactics of their manager Nick Sidney (Harris) the pair are transformed into a fearsome live act, developing drug habits and egos the size and shape of Tower Bridge. Things get messier when journalist Laura Ashworth (Emery, Kent) falls for the gentle Tom ("If you're in trouble and you need a friend, Laura Ashworth is the last person you want coming round the corner," reflects Paul), as the more volatile Barry is caught in a jealous, voyeuristic bind. Splitting up due to 'creative differences' is not an option. It's going to end badly.With echoes of Hedwig And The Angry Inch, Velvet Goldmine and Peter Watkins' Privilege, Brothers Of The Head rankles so much because there's the potential for a similarly good film here. The music, bridging the gap between glam and punk, is marvellous, if suspiciously redolent of the more recent New Wave of New Wave (of New Wave) style, and the period documentary footage is terrifically authentic. The Treadaways make a good-looking team; their incessant huggy embrace both an act of physical necessity and a sly nod to the era's gender transgressions. Mick Ronson and David Bowie performing 'Starman' on 'Top Of the Pops' springs immediately to mind.Yet for all their supposed turbulent symbiosis, what we mostly get is Tom looking glum, and Barry acting up. There's no real sense of their inner lives, and the film relies far too much on peripheral characters, such as a surgeon popping up to tell us helpful stuff like "the emotional and intellectual lives of conjoined twins are combined in a highly intricate way." Well, duh.Toward the end, the film all but fizzles out like a faulty amp, while the belated revelation that Barry may or may not have harboured the remains of a third foetus in his cranium goes absolutely nowhere. Although Ken Russell gets some mileage out of it during a characteristically over-the-top sequence in his pretend-film-within-a-pretend-film, the Howes biopic 'Two-Way-Romeo'. "I think Ken Russell should stick to Women In Love," muses documentary-maker Eddie Pasqau (Bower) wryly, in one of the few genuinely funny lines.There's a hollow ring to this pretentious picture; a surface film about surfaces. The instinctive action at credits up is a shrug: is that it?

noizyme i loved the movie from about the middle to the end. (the beginning was kind of slow for my taste and confusing to catch on to) i thought it had great actors (who played as the acquaintances/friends/family) to play the supporting roles, as well as the two boys in the film. it was fantastically emotional in the right way (only slightly was it overdone). the photography was phenomenal and the story couldn't have been any more to-the-point and entertaining.again, the movie was a bit slow and direction-less in areas of the final, edited film, but the points in which the two boys were to figure each other out after hitting the "big time" were very interesting and kept me watching all the way through with no problem after the middle of the film.i gave it 8 stars, and i regard this a very cool film indeed. it feels like "velvet goldmine" mixed with a bit of brotherly rival-ism, which can sometimes prove fatal. great film to see with someone you love, but it might not lift so many spirits up as you might think.

SONNYK_USA There have been many self-destructive rock star movies over the years from "The Doors" to "Sid and Nancy," but what if said star was a 'twin' - a Siamese twin.'Brothers of the Head' could more appropriately be titled 'Bros of the Chest' since that is where the twins are conjoined. As you would expect, one twin is docile and plays guitar while the other twin is more out-of-control but does manage to write some of the band's better songs.The major problem with this movie is that the twins only produce three (maybe four) songs which leaves too much time for derivative rock star antics in between (re: drugs, alcohol, and groupies). Of course, the groupie thing gets a bit uncomfortable when only one brother 'scores' and the other bro is forced to watch from an all-too-intimate distance.There's also the issue of identity as to which twin is in control as detailed in the song: 'Are you YOU or me?' Not to mention the film itself has its own multiple personality issues as it slides from insider documentary to Ken Russell adaptation (yes, the director is interviewed within the film). The Russell segments are few and far between and add very little commentary when they are injected between the pseudo-'documentary' segments (and yes, there is a film-within-the-film pseudo-docu director is interviewed too).Overall, an extremely dark portrait of a freaks-gone-famous punk phenomenon that offers little solace for the audience and a scattershot approach to the mockumentary format that won't score points with genre fans. Don't expect any laughs or a feel-good ending either, this is mockery at its most dour. Welcome to the dark side of mock 'n' roll.

mail-2635 Directors Fulton and Pepe get full marks for the rare feat of making a film where the fake-verite style is not a distraction and takes a back seat to the story and characters.The film is very deftly crafted, especially considering the subject matter. After all, the film is about conjoined twins being sold to a music promoter who wants to make them into pop stars. (The mind boggles at the heavy-handed way such a story MIGHT have been told.)And, yes, there is an actual meat and potatoes story here. The fact that these brothers are conjoined is key to the plot, but mercifully, it is NOT a one-note gag that the whole film is hung on. The directors made many interesting and ultimately daring choices, such as shooting the film in a verite style. Unfortunately, this will beg obvious (but ultimately irrelevant) comparisons to other fake-verite films with musical themes.Another interesting choice was shooting the performance scenes in what appear to be live takes, rather than having the actors lip sync to a studio recording. This seems like an insane choice because of the extra casting and logistic hassles. You'd have to find actors that could actually play, get them to practice together and then who knows if they'll be a decent band. But they pull it off. The music is authentic-sounding pre-punk--an undeniably raw and vital soundtrack. (I'll buy the soundtrack for sure. They could even put this band on tour and I'd go see them.) So, here's to insane choices.There are modest, surreal sequences between some scenes, but the directors know when to say when on this. The art-house crowd (and the stoned) are thrown a bone. But normal people will not be left rolling their eyes or checking their watch. These parts don't feel like art for art's sake. The casting is amazing. Using two different actors to play the older and younger versions of certain characters is yet another interesting choice. A few of the actors bear such a striking resemblance to one another that you may find yourself scanning the credits to see if they're related.This is the first narrative film by these two directors and I wholeheartedly encourage them to make many more films.