Jawbreaker’s music has meant a lot to me over the years. For someone with my upbringing – a punk rocker who came along in the early ‘90s – there wasn’t any escaping albums like “Unfun” and “24-Hour Revenge Therapy”. Whether you were going to basement shows full of hardcore kids or pop-punk shows full of Converse shoes and chain-smoking (or a combination of both), Jawbreaker (Blake Schwarzenbach, Chris Bauermeister, and Adam Pfahler) built musical bridges regardless of whatever posturing may have been going on in the scene at the time. Their authenticity and musicality crossed divides while their relatable and poignant lyrics could put a smile on the face of even the most jaded of punks.
They were amazing. In fact, if you were to press me to name a band that fully encapsulates what ‘90s punk sounded and felt like, I would – hand downs – say Jawbreaker. Not corporate faces like Green Day or Rancid. Jawbreaker (well, them and Born Against).
But, as things usually go with bands like Jawbreaker, personal strife and conflicting attitudes get the best of things just when they get rolling. In retrospect, they probably lasted about as long as they were meant to (they broke up in 1996). Had they continued, their output likely would have suffered and they never would have achieved the mythical status they currently enjoy. Still, I was sad when they called it quits.
The bones of Jawbreaker’s story may be nothing new, but the way it’s presented in Tim Irwin and Keith Schieron’s film is. These kinds of stories have a recognizable formula – one fully acknowledged by the band members: rags to riches to rags. What’s different this time around is that the crux of Don’t Break Down doesn’t lie in a slew of talking heads lamenting on how great the band was (even if it does have that), but on a near-secret reunion between the members after an 11-year hiatus.
In 2007, the filmmakers and the band got together in a studio to listen to the masters of their old recordings. What follows is a beautifully awkward and honest examination of what happened to the band and the animosity still felt by some of its members. The need to forgive and forget hangs heavy in the air, but the offending parties don’t seem quite willing to go the distance. It’s clear that they all hold a deep reverence for what they’ve created and the legacy left by their music, but are still on different pages about what to do with that legacy or where they’re willing to let their relationships go.
What the cameras captured in that recording studio reunion is full to the brim with understatement and hesitation. As the band’s saga unfolds via archival footage, stories from those who were there, and remembrances from the band in separate interviews, we keep coming back to the studio and the uncomfortable tension within. There are no blowouts, no arguments, and no raised voices, but there is a tightness that’s felt rather than seen. And then, just when you think it’s all going to fizzle, we’re given a wonderful catharsis when they finally pick up their instruments
On a surface level, Don’t Break Down may not offer much for those with no interest in ‘90s punk, but there is much more to this film than just the story of a semi-obscure band. It’s an atypical film that tells a typical story about a group of musicians far ahead of their time, punctuated by some of the best music the 1990s has to offer.
Better than any documentary I’ve seen (except maybe for Irwin and Schieron’s other amazing doc – 2005’s We Jam Econo: The Story of The Minutemen), Don’t Break Down offers a look at the psychology of a band, not just its story. What does it take to make a band work and what causes it to fall apart? And more importantly, can anyone ever be truly honest with themselves about their role in its success or failure? With the enthusiasm over Jawbreaker’s recent run of reunion shows, I’d say honesty is not only possible but seems to be a much healthier alternative.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.