‘This Is GWAR’ Is Often Hilarious And Surprisingly Poignant Chronicle Of Blood Spewing Metal Punks

Blood and guts and bodily fluids. Power struggles, betrayal and death. This Is GWAR, not House of the Dragon. Billed as “The True Story of the Sickest Band in the World,” the 2022 documentary recounts the four decade long history of the world’s premiere theatrical shock rock metal punk art collective / merchandising empire / band, and is currently streaming on Shudder. For those timid souls unaware, the typical GWAR concert is akin to Alice Cooper on intergalactic angel dust, with the costumed band churning out a scatalogical hit parade while fending off various monsters and executing an assortment of villains, politicians and celebrities.

At the center of GWAR’s live show are the gallons of fake blood, fake pus, and yes, fake semen, which are spewed in a never ending torrent upon the ever-appreciative moshing hordes. The film begins appropriately with the blood, the gigantic tanks which contain them, their maintenance and operation, while an unidentified roadie tells us, “Man, people love getting spewed on and I love doing it.” 

Richmond, Virginia, in the 1980s was a mish mash of dangerous ghettos and unfriendly conservative enclaves still proud of its legacy as the capital of the Confederacy. At the same time it was home to a thriving hardcore punk scene and Virginia Commonwealth University’s School of the Arts, which drew a steady stream of creative non-conformists from across the eastern seaboard. The gestational GWAR drew from both, beginning life as a shlock sci-fi horror film titled Scumdogs of the Universe, directed by VCU student Hunter Jackson (A.K.A. Techno Destructo) and featuring local punkers Death Piggy, led by singer Dave Brockie (A.K.A. Oderus Urungus), in ridiculous outfits influenced by pulp fantasy novels and comic books.  

“One thing that Dave had in common with me is he was willing to get up there and pretend like he’s jerking off in front of an audience,” says Jackson of his longtime collaborator and nemesis. Lifelong relationships are made of this. As the movie fizzled out, Brockie and an assortment of musicians began performing in their costumes under the nonsensical name GWAR. Like Frankenstein’s monster, it soon took on a life of its own.

While Jackson took a sabbatical, Don Drakulich (A.K.A. Sleazy P. Martini) and ​​Chuck Varga (A.K.A. Sexecutioner) took over as the group’s creative directors, fabricating outfits, stage props and story lines for the band. Jackson’s later return would ignite a creative tug of war which would last until his ignominious exit in 1999. Former “slaves,” known here on Earth as roadies, Bob Gorman and Matt McGuire would rise through the ranks, from stage techs and prop builders to playing a vital part at Slave Pit Inc., GWAR’s production arm.  

Brockie would be the band’s sole musical constant, with guitarist Mike Derks (A.K.A. Balsac the Jaws of Death) and drummer Brad Roberts (A.K.A. Jizmak Da Gusha) also serving impressive tours of duty from the late ‘80s onward. Other musicians came and went, inhabiting such roles as bassist Beefcake the Mighty and lead guitarist Flattus Maximus, whose character was retired following the tour death of guitarist Cory Smoot in 2011. Dancer Danielle Stampe (A.K.A. Slymenstar Hymen) served as Brockie’s on-stage foil until her retirement in 2000, delighting audiences with her spiked bra and soaking them in rivers of blood sprayed from her hoohaa.

As GWAR’s notoriety grew, it drew the attention of the very authority figures it ritually slew on stage. The sight of a perverted priest being sodomized with a giant crucifix proved too much for police in Charlotte, North Carolina, resulting in Brockie’s arrest and the confiscation of his cod-piece (A.K.A. the Cuttlefish of Cthulhu). As bassist Michael Bishop memorably notes, “They took Dave’s dick away in a 5 gallon bucket.”

After signing with Metal Blade Records, the band used their video budgets to film feature-length films. While 1992’s Phallus in Wonderland was nominated for a Grammy, subsequent VHS and DVD releases went straight to the cutout bin. As album sales stalled, the old guard left, some alienated by Brockie’s erratic behavior and tendency to consume all the air in the room. 

The 2000s saw a resurgence in GWAR’s popularity as they became festival fixtures and reached a new young audience. Unfortunately, they were dealt a crippling loss in 2014 when Brockie died from a heroin overdose at the age of 50. Following a Viking funeral, where his stage costume was set on fire in a longboat at the band’s annual GWAR-B-Q, the band returned with Michael Bishop taking over as lead singer under the moniker Blöthar the Berserker. As Brad Roberts says, “GWAR always goes on.” 

At almost two hours long, This Is GWAR is a bit of an epic but remains entertaining and engaging throughout. Similar to the blood gushing from the stage, the sizable cast of characters deliver a never ending stream of hilarious one-liners, however, their personal stories, the ups and downs of their interband relationships, give the film a surprisingly tender heart.  

Benjamin H. Smith is a New York based writer, producer and musician. Follow him on Twitter:@BHSmithNYC.