'Spinal Tap II: The End Continues' review: Mild sequel to uproarious classic

None more black, "Smell the Glove," the miniature Stonehenge — even if you’re unfamiliar with these now-classic gags, you probably know what it means to turn something up to 11. They’re all from 1984’s "This Is Spinal Tap," a satirical rock-doc that hit its nail so howlingly on the head that life began to imitate art: The fictional Spinal Tap released real albums, went on tour and became synonymous with dimwitted rock and roll excess.

Forty-one years later comes the sequel, "Spinal Tap II: The End Continues," bringing back Christopher Guest and Michael McKean as guitarists Nigel Tufnel and David St. Hubbins, respectively; Harry Shearer as bassist Derek Smalls; and director Rob Reiner as their bemused chronicler, Marty DiBergi. Can they recapture lighting in a bottle? Will this comeback be the equivalent of Elvis Presley’s electrifying 1968 television special, or more like Led Zeppelin’s ho-hum album "Coda?"

Alas, it’s the latter, but take heart. With this much talent in the room — notably Guest, the king of improvised mockumentaries ("Waiting for Guffman," "Best in Show") and Reiner, whose comic timing is still intact — "Spinal Tap II" manages to score a handful of laughs. They’re mostly gentle chuckles, and many come from lightly disguised versions of previous routines. Think of "Spinal Tap II" like a Rolling Stones concert: You’ll show up willing to take what you get.

The band members — presumably in their late 70s or beyond, like the actors — have fallen out and gone their separate ways. We learn that Tufnel runs a Pythonesque cheese-and-guitar shop, St. Hubbins recently composed a hold-music jingle ("It won a Holdy," he boasts) and Smalls launched a failed cryptocurrency bid. A contractual obligation forces them to reunite for one last show in New Orleans, joined by a brave female drummer (Valerie Franco as Didi Crockett) and overseen by the sociopathic promoter Simon Howler (an excellent Chris Addison). Howler is clinically unable to appreciate music — the movie’s one sharp dig at a money-driven industry.

Given the seismic changes in music over the past 40 years, this movie can feel trapped in amber. If you were hoping to see Spinal Tap go TikTok, or K-pop, or even just streaming, you’ll be disappointed. The handful of cameos — including Garth Brooks, Trisha Yearwood and Questlove, all video-phoning it in — are not exactly Gen Z. What’s more, the two top-billed guests, Paul McCartney and Elton John, are so overexposed these days that it’s no big surprise to see them. McCartney joins the band for "Cups and Cakes," a lesser Tap track, while John’s selection is worth keeping secret.

And so, art imitates life: Like many a real rock band, Spinal Tap has delivered a post-heyday project with only glimmers of the old magic. Longtime rock fans will know what to do with this: Get in the mood, open your heart and try to enjoy it.

By Rafer Guzmán

rafer.guzman@newsday.com