Metallica: This Monster Lives by Joe Berlinger, Greg Milner Page B

shooting at the Presidio; that riff was literally the first new Metallica music we documented. It’s easy to miss it in its embryonic form, but that riff eventually became the song “Some Kind of Monster.” Over the next couple weeks, “Monster” became the first real song to emerge in a rough state. Bob Rock played a special role in its creation by suggesting the lyrical theme and zeroing in on the riff that eventually became the song’s chorus.
As soon as “Some Kind of Monster” began to coalesce, I thought it would make a good title for our film (even though at that point our “film” was still officially an infomercial). The titles for our other movies have emerged very late in the filmmaking process, so I soon grew bored with this one, even as it began to catch on with Bruce and the rest of the crew. Toward the end of filming, I started leaning toward Madly in Anger , a line from “St. Anger.” But during the editing process, we all began to notice that Some Kind of Monster was a perfect title, considering what Metallica was going through, especially James’s struggle with the “beast” that was his band. So the title stuck.
The song would continue to evolve throughout the recording of St. Anger. As much as I like the final incarnation, I prefer the Presidio version. There’s a rawness to it that’s missing from the finished song, which I think sounds a bit too manipulated and “produced.” I think my preference is partially due to the emotional response the original song triggers in me. It takes me back to those days at the Presidio, when I was so thankful to be working again and excited to be in the presence of people who seemed like they knew the secret of creating art as a collaborative unit. Of course, I—and they—had a lot to learn.
“Monster” was a natural choice to play over our closing credit roll, though it was ultimately too monstrous for us: the song clocks in at over eight minutes, five of which were edited out so that its length matched our end credit sequence.
    As I said before, I’m all for documentary filmmakers spending time with their subjects. But as with any other meaningful relationship, that trust has to be earned. After months of bonding with the Wards while making Brother’s Keeper , we knew we’d reached a turning point when Roscoe named some of his turkeys after us. With Monster , we were dealing with celebrities, an entirely different situation. I really didn’t consider Lars to be a personal friend at that point—a professional acquaintance, sure—so to hit the town would have made me feel like a fan being tossed a bone by a rock star, which is the last way I wanted Metallica to perceive me. If we were to have a relationship, it would have to be based on mutual respect. There are several people in Metallica’s inner circle who started out as fans. They’re now part of the team, but some of their old roles endure—kind of like a former assistant who, despite a promotion, is still treated like an assistant by the boss. I felt like the only way Bruce and I were going to get the access we needed was if Metallica saw us as professional filmmakers, not celebrity hangers-on.
    So, while it took a lot of willpower, I told Lars, no, thanks, I had a plane to catch the next day (which was true). A part of me felt like I had blown a fun opportunity but I told myself that if a friendship was going to develop, this wasn’t the way to start. I also wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t here because I was into those sorts of perks.
    I flew back to New York the next day with a lot to think about. It had been an interesting couple of weeks, but I still felt I needed to make sure that if I continued with this project, it would be for the right reasons—not just because I needed the money or wanted to work again. I conceived of this as a modest project, but it was still one that would carry my name. After Blair Witch 2 , this was a very important consideration.
    I also owed