Tribeca 2021 Review: a-ha: the Movie

a-ha: the Movie (2021) is a documentary film. It was written and directed by Thomas Robsahm.

a-ha is a Norwegian pop group, whose most significant claim to fame was the international 1985 chartbuster Take On Me. This is not to dismiss them as one hit wonders, by the way. In fact, not only have they had many successes throughout their career (though none as globally prolific as Take On Me), but they are Norway’s best-selling, and most noteworthy pop band.

It comes as no surprise that we now have a documentary film that chronicles their inception, rise to global superstardom, and their many highs and lows through to the present day. In fact, according to the post film Q&A session, the filmmakers had posited the idea of this film to the band themselves many years ago. However, the bad, as the film reveals, run hot-and-cold with one another, and the suggestion was made at a time when they were on the outs with one another. The filmmakers were not easily dissuaded, and chose to bide their time. Eventually, the band not only got back together, but gave the film the green light, and now here we are at Tribeca 2021, witnessing the film’s world premier.

At its core, a-ha is a trio of musicians. Pål Waaktaar-Savoy plays guitar, Magne Furuholmen is on keys, and Morten Harket sings. The band formed in 1982, worked steadily at their craft, and by 1985 they found themselves with a number one hit on the Billboard charts. While they have enjoyed the fruits of their Take On Me labors over the years, the band has continued to write and record new music, as well as perform together, albeit somewhat sporadically, ever since. a-ha: the Movie is their story.

Now that the backstory is out of the way, I feel I should say that as far as music docs go, a-ha: the Movie is a strictly for-fans-only affair. If you enjoy music documentaries the way I do, or if you consider yourself to be a fan of the band, then this flick is well worth checking out. For the more casual consumer however, a-ha: the Movie is a little dry, and is slightly disjointed in a way that will likely make the 100+ minute runtime seem oppressive.

At no point during the film do we ever get the sense that any of the three band members actually like one another. Nor do we get the sense that they are proud of their achievements. Instead, the film seems to portray a trio of musicians who would rather be playing on their own, rather than in this band with each other. It is almost a cautionary tale. “Be careful what you wish for, for you just might get it” should be the tagline on the poster for this thing. Sure, these guys are rich and successful. Sure, they play to crowds who number frequently reach 5 to 6 digits. Sure, they have one of the greatest selling earworms in the history of pop music. Trouble is, none of them seem happy about it.

For a band that is technically still together after all this time to be this unhappy together, yet to keep doing it, is more tragic than anything else. By the conclusion of the film, I was asking myself the question, would it have been better for Take On Me to have not been a hit? And not just because I personally loathe that song. It just seems to me that the story told here is one where a couple of childhood friends worked tirelessly at this goal they wanted to achieve, but once they had, they became chained to it, and ultimately were unfulfilled as artists as a result.

Perhaps I am unused to a Norwegian temperament, and as a result I am misreading things. I suppose there could be any number of reasons that the impressions I came away from a-ha: the Movie with were inaccurate. I mean, shit, if they’re still dragging that awful song out of the closet and performing it every night, there has got to be something more satisfying than money they are getting out of it, right? Cuz, if they’ve been playing Take On Me at every show for the last 36 years (and trust me, there is no way it isn’t getting played at every show), they have to be getting more than a paycheck for it, right? Like, they must still love that song, and love trotting it out every night for their adoring fans, right?

Typically, a documentary film that celebrates a band like this is usually a joyous, celebratory occasion. Even if the road behind has been fraught with tragedy and heartache, the fact that we are here talking about them means that there is something to celebrate, right? Sadly, that is not how this film feels. It feels like none of the people that love a-ha are actually in the band. And maybe that is what is fascinating about a-ha: the Movie. Maybe it is interesting to be told a story of a band, who has seen some of the highest heights that a pop group can see, and still be apathetic about it.

The trouble is, I walked away from the film feeling sad and unsatisfied. Never mind the somewhat disjointed nature of the film. Never mind that the film glosses over some important details of the band’s career (their cursory treatment of the Steve Barron directed video for Take On Me is practically criminal, considering that I find the notion that Take On Me would have taken America by storm without MTV running that fucking video into the ground for a couple years straight to be dubious at best, preposterous at worst). Never mind that this band still plays to venues and crowds, both packed and enormous. All of those things don’t really matter because the film itself is a cold, depressing affair. At least, that’s how I felt as the credits rolled.

This is why a-ha: the Movie is for die-hards, and musicheads only. It is a perfectly satisfactory tale of a band who has had more success than a lot of us had any idea about, and who definitely has a story to be told. However, casual or non-fans will likely find themselves put off by the icy touch of this film. I may come across as if I’ve a heart made of stone, but I can be won over I assure you. In fact, that is part of why I selected this film. I was looking for evidence that might change my opinion of a-ha for the better. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Unless you love a-ha, do yourself a favor and check out The Sparks Brothers (Edgar Wright, 2021) instead.

P.S. In case my disdain for Take On Me came through a little too heavily, I’d like to make the scales of musical justice a little more even. So here is an a-ha song I actually like, just in case you thought I was completely devoid of reason and/or taste.