The White Stripes
The White Stripes: Under Black Pool Lights (V2)
by Marc Hirsh

originally published in Amplifier, March-April 2005

At what point does the White Stripes’ aesthetic eclipse their music? The White Stripes: Under Black Pool Lights argues that it doesn’t, but there are times when it becomes a shooting war between the two. Shot on Super-8 in England last January, the film has the faux-vintage appearance of grainy bootleg footage from the early ’70s. If you’re trying to pick up guitar-playing tips from Jack, then this isn’t the video for you (whereas if you’re trying to pick up drum-playing tips from Meg, then… geez, I don’t know what to tell you). Even through the studied artlessness and the Stripes’ ostensibly low-fi lineup, though, the sound is spot-on; it’s as though Jack and director Dick Carruthers were willing to be artistes as long as it didn’t interfere with the music. Otherwise, the White Stripes pretty much do everything the White Stripes do: Jack spits and frenzies, skittering across his guitar as he howls in his affected yelp, while Meg cocks her head and looks serene and gorgeous, proving that what makes her invaluable isn’t her technical skill but her sympathetic ability to cue off of Jack. There are times they seem to forget that there’s even an audience watching them, such as the moment during their cover of Son House’s “Grinnin’ In Your Face” when Jack picks the microphone right next to Meg’s drums and the two of them simply sing to each other. Viewed as a simple document and not the artistic statement it wants to be, Under Black Pool Lights succeeds in spite of itself.

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