Metallica from the couch

In 2001, the heavy metal band Metallica hired documentary filmmakers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky to get up close and very personal. Founded in the ear-shattering wake of monsters such as Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin, in the 1980s and early 1990s Metallica had become a popular, profitable and critically sanctioned metal band. In the past decade, though, various devils including ego, booze and Napster took their tolls on the band.

“Metallica: Some Kind of Monster” is a record of confession, redemption and head-banging entertainment from start to finish. By turns exasperating, appalling and surprisingly empathetic – sometimes all in the same moment – singer and guitarist James Hetfield, drummer Lars Ulrich and lead guitarist Kirk Hammett quickly emerge as the main attractions, but not for the reasons you might expect.

Something happened during the two years that Berlinger and Sinofsky kept the cameras going. Metallica had cultivated a bad-boy reputation (band members’ hard partying earned them the sobriquet “Alcoholica”). Now with the musicians approaching their 40s, they were facing the challenge of a middle-age breakup.

There’s nothing overtly shocking or juicy about “Some Kind of Monster.” No one shoots heroin or cracks open someone else’s head with a broken beer bottle; the worst acting out involves bear hunting and some questionable music. Controversy isn’t the point, and if the soft-pedaling seems at odds with our current scandal-seeking climate, it’s also a relief. The film is, finally, a vanity project.

But like Phil Towle – the pricey “performance-enhancement coach” who charges the band $40,000 a month for the sort of advice Oprah gives away for free – there’s something irresistible about Metallica’s efforts to share the musicians’ bid at self-improvement.

They still may be hustling records, but they’re also clearly trying to break on through to the other side.