
THIS IS GWAR: Inside the infamous Art Collective turned Gored-out Shock band
All photos provided by Scott Barber and GWAR. ABOVE: GWAR group shot, photo by Adam Wallacavage, taken in 2006, photo taken on top of an old service garage next to GWAR’s Slave Pit headquarters.
GWAR was never an ordinary rock band. And in the recent documentary This Is GWAR, director Scott Barber digs into the past and present of the music and art collective that simultaneously defied categorization while infiltrating late twentieth century pop culture and continues to entertain fans today with heavy metal and elaborate—even gory—stage shows.
“Even if you’ve only done a brief amount of research about GWAR, you can tell that it would make an awesome documentary,” says Barber on a recent video call.
In the aftermath of the 2014 death of GWAR front man Dave Brockie (stagename: Oderus Urungus) and the 2015 release of Bob Gorman’s coffee table book, Let There Be GWAR, multiple parties approached the surviving members of the band/art collective about a potential documentary.
“It just didn’t seem to be the right time, and people’s agendas were about Dave’s death story,” says Gorman—who portrays Bonesnapper the Cave Troll in GWAR—who adds that the angle wouldn’t have done justice to the group. “It’s clearly a big part of the story, but it’s not the whole story.”
Enter Barber, the Houston-based filmmaker behind the documentary The Orange Years: The Nickelodeon Story. As a heavy metal-loving pre-teen in Texas, Barber was introduced to the band via Beavis and Butt-Head. “Beavis and Butt-head thought they were awesome, and they were,” says Barber.
Barber had wanted to make a documentary about GWAR and was able to connect with the band via a friend whose band was on tour with them. Gorman saw The Orange Years and found it to be “kind and sweet.” “He seemed like such a nice guy and he kept coming at us and wanting to come and film and talk about stuff, so we eventually said, let’s do it with this guy because he seems like he would treat us fairly with this,” Gorman recalls.
RATHER THAN BE A ROCK BAND THAT HAS WEIRD COSTUMES, WE’RE, AT OUR CORE, AN ART COLLECTIVE THAT HAS A MUSICAL ASPECT TO IT…”
ABOVE, CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: Current day GWAR, photo by Jeremy Saffer An ordinary staged decapitation, from the GWAR-B-Q 2015 Dinosaur prop in progress in shop, photo by Ted Sanderson for “The Swamp” in 1986 Black and white Illustration by Chuck Varga circa 1988 Slymenstra, photo by Mark Harvey, 1989
THEY DO WHATEVER IT TAKES… THEY’RE THE MOST BLUE-COLLAR, DIY BAND I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.”
“We didn’t want somebody who was going to do a hagiography or whatever, and at the same time we wanted it to be a real documentary,” adds Michael Bishop, who as Blöthar the Berserker is GWAR’s current lead singer. “But it was hard to find somebody who we thought would have a balanced approach. We were very lucky to get Scott.”
The resulting documentary, This Is GWAR is a fantastic ride through the group’s journey from the Richmond, Virginia punk scene, to 1990s talk show notoriety, to the present day. It benefits from a wealth of archival footage, as well as Barber’s keen storytelling skills, which helps contextualize GWAR’s work for those who might not have experienced late-twentieth-century pop and alternative culture.
From the get-go, GWAR was more of a multidisciplinary art collective than a traditional rock band. It’s origins are in mid-‘80s Richmond, where, in a dairy plant-turned-art space, artist Hunter Jackson was working on a film called Scumdogs of the Universe and Brockie was playing with a band called Death Piggy. They, along with their friends and collaborators, eventually joined forces to produce a sci-fi punk rock odyssey fueled by an eclectic mix of influences. Monty Python, comics, animation, fantasy art and Dungeons & Dragons are amongst the cultural touchstones that had an impact in the group’s formative years.
“As the collective, the musicians and artists work hand-in-hand conceptually and the ideas flow back and forth between camps, between what should be done musically to support what we’re doing on stage and what can be visually created to support the concepts and ideas,” says artist Matt Maguire, who plays Sawborg Destructo in GWAR. “It’s a very unique beast. I don’t think that there’s a lot out there that’s like us.”
“Rather than be a rock band that has weird costumes, we’re—at our core—an art collective that has a musical aspect to it because that’s a really great way to make money,” says Gorman.
With time, and plenty of DIY touring, GWAR became a word-of-mouth phenomenon. Their costumes and special effects grew more elaborate. They garnered famous fans, like Alex Winter and “Weird Al” Yankovic, both of whom were interviewed in the documentary.
In the 1990s, GWAR flirted with mainstream stardom. Their film Phallus in Wonderland was nominated for a Grammy. They appeared on a number of daytime talk shows, capturing the attention of teens watching after school or during vacations, and were included in movies like Mystery Date and Empire Records. And while the band didn’t much love in MTV’s regular rotation, they were the favorite of Beavis and Butt-Head. (“It’s… like… there’s too much cool stuff to keep track of.”—Butt-Head)
This Is GWAR is a revealing look into the life of a DIY art collective. Personalities clashed. Members came in and out of the fold. And when Brockie—GWAR’s most recognizable member—died, the future of the band was uncertain.
In the film, past and present members are remarkably frank about GWAR’s struggles. “I was really surprised by how open they were,” says Barber. “That’s really what makes the doc—is those men and women opening up the way that they did. If they hadn’t done that, it would have been a very different documentary.”
Because the documentary’s subjects are so refreshingly honest, This Is GWAR is also a story about persistence and making art for the pure love of it. “I don’t think that GWAR could have emerged from another place other than where it emerged, when it emerged, partly because the people that started it were very invested in punk and DIY,” says Bishop. He adds that the “don’t talk about it, do it” attitude of the group’s founders “really created this sense of commitment to the project and to each other.”
GWAR’s hard work was something that Barber wanted to highlight in the documentary. And he does so. Whether it’s painstaking effort that goes into building costumes that spurt bodily fluids, or the relentless drive to continue creating even when corporate America rejects, mocks, and doesn’t understand you. “They do whatever it takes,” says Barber. “They’re the most blue-collar, DIY band I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”*
BELOW, CLOCKISE FROM TOP LEFT: Margaret Rolicki working in the Slave Pit shop, 2019, photo by Matt Maguire Matt Maguire trying on Mr. Perfect costume in progress, 2013, photo by Meg Herbert Bob Gorman working on Flesh Column hands 1994, photo by Bob Gorman Polaroid of Cardinal Syn costume in progress, 1995, photo by Matt Maguire GWAR business card, illustration by Dave Brockie, circa 1987
See the trailer for the documentary on GWAR here.
This article first appeared in Hi-Fructose Issue 66, which is sold out. Get our latest issue with a new Hi-Fructose subscription here.
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