Find a person who claims to have grown up in the 1980’s but never heard of ShowBiz Pizza or its iconic band of animatronic animal musicians known as The Rock-afire Explosion, and chances are you have encountered a liar. Possibly. I mean, maybe they were huge fans of ShowBiz’s much flashier competitor, Chuck E. Cheese. Both franchises were cut from the same cloth – a full-on experience of pure, uncut joy for the youth of America, complete with fun games and affordable pizza – but ShowBiz got there first. The 2008 documentary The Rock-afire Explosion, a true labor of love long unavailable on home video, makes its Blu-ray bow from those passionate purveyors of premium pop pleasures and perversities at American Genre Film Archive.
Director Brett Whitcomb takes us on a brief (72 minutes!) but informative journey from the humble origins of ShowBiz and its signature entertainment act to the painstaking and expensive efforts of devoted ShowBiz fans to keep its legacy alive. The film features interviews with most of the Rock-afire’s surviving creators and more than a few of its ardent admirers, archival footage of the animatronic geniuses at work, vintage ShowBiz commercials, and more.
ShowBiz Pizza and the Rock-afire Explosion were a pair of those quintessential 80’s experiences that were quite obviously of their time. Where else could you enjoy addictive arcade games and reasonably-priced food while enjoying the cutting edge musical stylings of a band of google-eyed robotic critters, all in total air-conditioned splendor on a slow summer weekend afternoon? Whitcomb’s documentary offers a good time for anyone who remembers those days, and a guaranteed interesting time for those rare interested parties from future generations who wonder aloud how their elders could have possibly found this entertaining (while they post pictures of their lunch on Instagram).
The love for the Explosion remains palpable decades later thanks to the dedication and ingenuity of its inventors and the impressionable kids they inspired to become responsible adults who never lost touch with their inner child. Through the well-crafted intermingling of archival and contemporary interviews with vintage news reports and performance videos, Whitcomb finds enough in the history of ShowBiz to sustain his film’s compacted running time. He’s helped along admirably by the infectious enthusiasm of multiple die-hard fans, some of whom went further in keeping the magic of the long-gone pizza chain alive than most fans of anything could only dream.
Despite the sheer amount of love on display, the doc isn’t always fun and smiles. There’s usually a dark side to most success stories, but thankfully the dark side of the Rock-afire Explosion doesn’t involve a deep dive into Billy Bob Brockali’s $2000 a day cocaine habit or Mitzi Mozzarella’s brief flirtation with the Unitarian Church. But there is acrimony and bitterness to be found, not to mention the inevitable dance with failure. It ends with a sense of reconciliation as the love of fans rally to inject energy into the legacy of ShowBiz and its legendary house band. Points off, however, for failing to include a single mention of Willy’s Wonderland.
Framed in its intended 1.33:1 aspect ratio, AGFA’s Blu-ray transfer of The Rock-afire Explosion looks as good as a low-budget documentary shot on high-definition video over fifteen years ago can look. The shifting video quality in the contemporary interviews and archive footage never feels jarring, but totally understandable. Detail and color are present and fine. I can’t complain about the audio track either – it won’t give your home theater a shot of adrenaline, but it knows its job and gets it done.
Extras feature a solid audio commentary with Whitcomb and writer Bradford Thomason, outtakes (39 minutes), Creative Engineering promotional video (3 minutes), “Tune Machine” skit (2 minutes), “Willy Wabbit” news broadcast (1 minute), Pizza Party promo (3 minutes), “Uncle Klunky” promo (33 seconds), a video photo gallery (3 minutes), and the trailer (3 minutes).
I had fun watching The Rock-afire Explosion, a documentary full of affection for its titular animatronic band that thankfully refuses to shy away from the more unpleasant aspects of the legacy of ShowBiz Pizza. A plethora of archival video extras make this newest Blu-ray from American Genre Film Archive a quiet overachiever worth watching for 80’s kids hungering for a quick blast of nostalgia.