Media Studies Media Studies

Heavy Metal Parking Lot: On Subculture, Intention, and the Politics of Personhood

Produced by Jeff Krulik and John Heyn, [Heavy Metal Parking Lot] is rooted in personhood and dedicates itself to exploring a condensed version of the heavy metal scene. If read in such a context, there is an intrinsically political current running through the film, one which encompasses the heavy metal movement of the 1980s, and which hints at the criticism and fear faced by the subculture as a result.


By Sophia Fijman, Edited by Ben Glickman

The phrase “the personal is political” implies an inherent connection between personal experience and socio-political constructions, whether or not there is an intended political purpose. This extends to art and media, in pieces which are not necessarily supposed to be political, but can be viewed as such because of their context. Documentary filmmaking, in particular, is arguably capable of depicting humanity in its rawest state, from which political implications can be drawn. Heavy Metal Parking Lot (1986), a short documentary that comes in at just under 17 minutes, creates a portrait of concertgoers in the parking lot before a Judas Priest show. Produced by Jeff Krulik and John Heyn, the film is rooted in personhood and dedicates itself to exploring a condensed version of the heavy metal scene. If read in such a context, there is an intrinsically political current running through the film, one which encompasses the heavy metal movement of the 1980s, and which hints at the criticism and fear faced by the subculture as a result.

Heavy Metal Parking Lot is a concise and thorough painting of its titular suburban subculture. The short documentary was shot in Landover, Maryland on May 31st, 1986, outside a concert arena and is, according to its producers, “hailed as one of the greatest rock documentaries ever” (Krulik and Heyn). On their website, the two claim that the film is “a definitive cultural touchstone for the 1980s metal scene: spandex, big hair, denim, mullets, muscle cars, and beer” which “launched” its own genre of parking lot films (Krulik and Heyn). Though brief and a bit trite – the producers’ ‘story’ rings true to the film itself. Heavy Metal Parking Lot is in fact a kind of underground cult classic (if such a thing exists), with a wikipedia page and a number of popular published articles, yet far fewer references in traditional, peer-reviewed academia.

The personal aspect of documentary film such as Heavy Metal Parking Lot is unsurprisingly intertwined with its time period – the overall tone of the film is underlined by the technological developments and pop culture of the 1980s. Filmmaking in the 80s saw minor technological improvements from the 70s, alongside the continued popularity of location shooting and the significance of authenticity. While production is not entirely determined by such technology’s capabilities, it is indebted to their limitations. Commercially available technology became increasingly common well into the 1980s, as videocassette recorders became available to the public and people like John Heyn and Jeff Krulik could document their own scenes and distribute their projects. In fact, the documentary was allegedly shot on a camera borrowed from Krulik’s day job at a local public access station (Rettman). The implication of accessible cameras of the 80s and the influence of direct cinema on documentary film are both starkly present in Heavy Metal Parking Lot.  In discussing advancing technology as a forum for innovation, Professor Michael Brendan Baker notes that pop culture is historicized by documentary. According to Baker, critical moments in the evolution of popular music coincided with new technologies which, in turn “prompted the exploration of un- and underrepresented musical styles and communities” (Baker 152). He goes on to discuss how “amateur cinematographers and semi professional filmmakers could explore subcultural music communities” (152-3) as cameras developed. Baker names Heavy Metal Parking Lot and similar projects as part of a shift which debatably brought an “expansion of subject matter and representational strategies” (153) – projects intended to document a community, seemingly inadvertently linked to political movements. 

The personhood that is so poignant in Heavy Metal Parking Lot corresponds with Baker’s argument. That is, the film’s intentional focus on a very human experience is linked to its content and style. The states of being – of the subjects and filmmakers – have a kind of raw quality, and the camera itself feels conscious and individual. The film’s physicality is only possible because the camera can navigate the lot, and the project’s eventual reach and influence is a direct result of VCR. Heavy Metal Parking Lot is anything but fly-on-the-wall. The filmmakers interact with the population of the parking lot and move the camera through the crowd like a member of it. While the film includes a slew of one-on-one interviews, they’re done conversationally and on site – Jeff and John are simply filming their interactions with the crowd. In fact, the people being interviewed acknowledge the camera, but also seem to sometimes look over it to make eye contact with the filmmakers asking the questions, as if the camera is just another person. The film spends a notable amount of time panning over the crowd itself – groups of men standing shirtless against cars, people leaning out car windows to check tickets, drinking, screaming, and dancing. Around minute 14, it moves fluidly across a line of people waiting for the concert – a shot easily done because of smaller, portable camera advancements of the decade prior. Many of them wave to it, as if the camera is part of the conversation and representative of potential viewers. It’s carried through the crowd like a celebrity; many concert goers react to it, throwing up a ‘rock and roll’ hand sign, or another gesture. 

The lot interacts with the camera and filmmakers with the apparent knowledge that their words will be shared – their gestures, chants, and personal details representative of the local metal scene. Within the punk scene, there simply is no removing the music and subculture from anti-establishment, individual ideology. Heavy metal is often assumed to be of a similar nature. While they may share an overall genre and seem similar to the uninformed listener, punk music is largely defined by said ideology, and heavy metal by its aesthetic. In short: heavy metal is not defined by a certain mindset, yet this film indicates that it may still be viewed as such. Moreover, dedicated metal researcher and author Bettina Roccor, in speaking on the unification and fragmentation of the subculture, asserts that “the kernel of heavy metal is not a special kind of ideology but rather the music of heavy metal” (Roccor 83). According to Roccor, the subculture “is subject to the momentary political, local, social and individual conditions within which this kind of music is made and consumed” (83). Roccor insists that heavy metal, unlike punk, does not center itself on a ‘kernel’ of ideology. However, as she alludes, the scene itself is often viewed as political and associated with extremes. What’s more, she suggests that the context of a time period might pull metal music into an assumed ideology, and Heavy Metal Parking Lot is not devoid of politics. In one of the few explicitly political moments, a man with a shirt that says “FUCK OFF” points to the camera, then his shirt, and then the camera pans over to cops roaming the lot [1:35]. However, another moment depicts a man with an apparent confederate flag shirt who cheers “Praise rock and roll forever!” [15:08]. Though individual viewpoints are anything but cohesive, politics are present, leaning toward the far left and right. Despite the debatable true nature of metal subculture and possible intentions of the filmmakers, Heavy Metal Parking Lot is an interpersonal film which focuses on the metal scene, and may therefore be interpreted as a clandestinely political documentary.

As it films the group as a whole, Heavy Metal Parking Lot frames the crowd mentality of the fans. It captures them at their most dedicated, and the camera at its most personal. At one point, a man in all zebra print is asked about his “philosophy on life,” to which he responds “It sucks shit! Heavy metal rules! Heavy metal rules, all that punk shit sucks. It doesn't belong in this world. It belongs on fucking mars, man,” [8:54]. Another group is filmed as someone holds up a Judas Priest flag, and a large group begins chanting “PRIEST PRIEST PRIEST” [7:30], as if the fans are patriotic citizens of the band’s nation – the kind of mob mentality that the general public seems to fear when it comes to metal music. Independent scholar and author John Brackett touches on this concisely in covering the development of antirock discourse of the 1980s. He notes that the Parents’ Music Resource Center “argued that socially irresponsible songs and videos—particularly those associated with heavy metal—were a contributing factor in many of the hardships and challenges facing america’s youth” – including generalized sex, drugs, and violence (Brackett 273). Heavy Metal Parking Lot only adds fuel to the fire of 1980s parents’ satanic panic, yet its focus on such subject matter feels intimate; the film is simply a series of personal interactions which might be contextualized as political from an outside perspective.

Throughout the film, attendees are asked how they feel about Judas Priest or whether they’d like to say anything to the band – they frequently respond with passionate praise. Heavy Metal Parking Lot explores extremes, just as the metal scene seems to do. One of the first people interviewed is Graham, who introduces himself as “like gram of dope and shit” [2:50]. When prompted about where he’s from and what he’s doing in this parking lot, he responds with “I’m on acid, that’s where I am” and someone shouts about cocaine. At 3:41, Graham declares “they should legalize drugs. That is a fact.” Much later in the short, a man smiles and announces, “My goal tonight is sit back, run back my car, drink a few beers, and puke on some unsuspecting victims!” [13:20] and less than a minute later, a girl exclaims how much she loves a band member and yells “We wanna fuck your brains out!” [14:09]. A number of the featured interviewees of Heavy Metal Parking Lot fit easily into the metal subculture stereotype – the extreme taboo about which parents of the satanic panic age were concerned. Yet, as filmmakers Jeff and John mention on their aforementioned website, there is nearly 3 hours worth of content shot for this documentary – what they did include was done with a level of purpose (Krulik and Heyn). 

The content that does make the final cut of the short is that which the filmmakers subjectively felt embodied the personality of the scene. As a result, the documentary is informed by their own personal experiences, contextualized by their (potentially subconscious) opinions on the heavy metal scene. While it’s difficult to pinpoint their exact ideological beliefs before the production of this short, it’s entirely possible to speculate that the filmmakers have pushed a specific narrative in their presentation of the heavy metal scene. While Krulik and Heyn now consider themselves fans of the band, their choice to film the Judas Priest concert goers specifically was reportedly simply happenstance (Trutor). Their 17 minute documentary feels like nonstop chaos – and is arguably deceiving in this way. The editing choices made by Krulik and Heyn are motivated by what they assumed would catch the attention of viewers, painting the parking lot scene in its most outrageous moments from the perspective of an outsider. In tandem with its content, the physical production of Heavy Metal Parking Lot is inherently linked to its creators’ personhood and point of view. And, depending on background and previous knowledge of subculture, this shameless, extreme depiction of heavy metal might go on to inform the viewer’s own perspective.

There is another side to Heavy Metal Parking Lot which explores the emotional facet of metal subculture. Two people, when asked what they would say to singer Rob Halford, explain that they have backstage passes because a friend of theirs died in a car accident and his mother wrote to the band. 75 people in the parking lot that night had backstage passes and “a great big banner that says ‘Timmy loved Judas Priest!’” [10:14]. A bit later, an older man says into the camera, “Judas Priest, you play your heart out tonight for all these kids, okay?” [13:57], as if the camera can communicate his wish to the band itself. It’s unclear whether he asks this for any reason, but there is a heartfelt tone. The film gets deeply personal, with the camera in the throng of the crowd – all arms and skin and yelling – as the concertgoers rally. Frequently, the filmmakers ask their subjects about their hometown and how popular heavy metal is in those places, rounding out each of their individual human narratives and their connections to the scene. In a strange way, the film manages to incorporate both the heart and fire of metal subculture, as well as perpetuate the criticism-drawing stereotypical association with sex, drugs, and violence.

Heavy Metal Parking Lot, in just about 16 minutes, encompasses metal subculture of the 1980s – whether or not that is truly informed by the filmmakers’ outside perspective. The film is a portrait, and suggests in its nature and context that the personal and political are intertwined. A film about metal subculture, whether or not intentionally, cannot be entirely apolitical – just as many art forms today. It, in turn, begs the question of whether this uninhibited counterculture can still be documented today, without being quickly commodified by the exploits of social media and digital connectivity. This suggests a kind of online visibility which can be further analyzed via political personhood. Heavy Metal Parking Lot, in the context of its intention, sociological context, and as a pseudo period piece, encapsulates the personal human experience as it relates to subcultural music scenes, and is therefore politicized.

Works Cited

Baker, Michael Brendan. “POPULAR MUSIC AND SHORT-FORM NONFICTION: Is the Web a Forum for Documentary Innovation?” Reclaiming Popular Documentary, edited by Christie Milliken and Steve F. Anderson, Indiana University Press, 2021, pp. 139–56. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv21hrhxk.14. Accessed 3 Apr. 2024.

John Brackett. “Satan, Subliminals, and Suicide: The Formation and Development of an Antirock Discourse in the United States during the 1980s.” American Music, vol. 36, no. 3, 2018, pp. 271–302. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.5406/americanmusic.36.3.0271. Accessed 3 Apr. 2024.

Krulik, Jeff. “Heavy Metal Parking Lot.” Vimeo, Apr. 2024, vimeo.com/152843738. Accessed 1 Apr. 2024.

Krulik and Heyn. “HEAVY METAL PARKING LOT.” Heavymetalparkinglot.com, 2021, www.heavymetalparkinglot.com/index.html#story. Accessed 1 Apr. 2024.

Rettman, Tony. “Revisiting cult film ‘Heavy Metal Parking Lot.’” Ultimate Classic Rock, 2005, https://ultimateclassicrock.com/heavy-metal-parking-lot/. Accessed 13 Nov. 2024.

Roccor, Bettina. “Heavy Metal: Forces of Unification and Fragmentation within a Musical Subculture.” The World of Music, vol. 42, no. 1, 2000, pp. 83–94. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41699315. Accessed 3 Apr. 2024.

Trutor, Clayton. “A Rock Documentary That Won’t Die.” Nextavenue, 16 Jan. 2024, www.nextavenue.org/a-rock-documentary-that-wont-die/. Accessed 13 Nov. 2024.


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