Last Friday, yours truly pulled DetroitBuzz’s esteemed editor away from a round of Tiger Woods’ PGA Golf on Playstation to see Metallica’s “Some Kind Of Monster.” This article isn’t so much a review of the movie, but more of a reaction to the hurt I felt afterwards. It was the hurt of knowing that my all-time favorite band could be such wusses and the hurt of watching band members talk about their art collections. This movie left me with an unsettled, yet intrigued, feeling.

“Some Kind of Monster” is a recount of Metallica’s inner struggles from January 2001 to July 2003 while making their latest album “St. Anger.”

To me, “Monster” reminded me of a far more serious version of “This Is Spinal Tap” (unfortunately, there was no ‘Stonehenge’ scene.) We watched as lead singer/ guitarist James Hetfield struggled through rehab and his post-rehab four hour work schedule.

We watched as Lars Ulrich made creepy facial expressions, which caused me more nightmares than the zombies from “28 Days Later.” We also watched as Metallica enlisted a therapist for a whopping $40,000 a month, to help them talk about their feelings.

Listen, Metallica is at the top of the pecking order of bands that I live to see, but I don’t want to listen to Lars Ulrich’s nasal tone discuss his feelings for two hours. If you want to pay someone $40,000 a month to discuss your feelings, give me that money. I will set you straight. Let me tell Metallica this; you are Metallica, one of the baddest groups of all time. Let Matchbox Twenty hire therapists. Settle your issues like men and confront each other.

Watching “Monster” was interesting, but it made me cringe at certain points. Witnessing former Metallica guitarist Dave Mustaine cry about how “everything he did turned to shit” is priceless. Even more priceless than watching the CD skip on Milli Vanilli many years ago. As funny as it was, it was also alarming for Mustaine’s macho and violent persona crushed like the Boston Red Sox’s pennant chances in the span of two minutes. Now, if I ever see a Megadeth reunion concert, I will have to think about Mustaine sobbing like a two year old. Thanks Dave!

Everyone’s favorite drummer, Ulrich, won’t make any new friends after “Monster” either. Ulrich is the Barry Bonds of heavy metal; great talent, but a jackass with a large ego and unappreciative towards the people that got him to where he’s at today. This guy tries to endear himself to us by and taking us on a voyage to a New York auction house to sell off his art collection, for up to eight figures per piece, while he gets drunk and says how much it pains him to part with his art. You know, if I were you I would have pleaded with the directors of the flick to keep that on the cutting room floor. Your credibility in the rock world is forever tainted. First Napster, now Van Gogh? Damn you Lars!

Guitarist Kirk Hammett and producer Bob Rock, filling in on bass during the recording of the album, come off like almost a non-entity in “Monster,” mostly just letting out deep sighs and wondering where their next creative thought will come from.

One of the few people that happen to save face is Hetfield, but just barely. The one guy that you can always depend on for the full-out, footprint gas pedal to the floor Metallica experience, goes through the biggest change.

James’ becomes worse than a factory line worker; watching the clock until 4 P.M. so he can stop recording and make it home in time to have dinner with his family. I am all for spending time with your family, but running out like a wimp after four hours of recording hardly makes me think that you are putting your all into an album. Hetfield eventually regains his voice within the band and saves the album, and saves us from watching Ulrich become an art dealer permanently.

“Some Kind of Monster” made me realize that just because a movie is about your favorite band; it doesn’t mean it will further your respect for the band. For years, I had this concept of Metallica being a heavy drinking, wild living, hard rock band. And I am sure that through, let’s say 1997 or so, the Metallica I believed in existed.

I understand people do get older, and with time and age, people settle down. Most bands finally see the errors of their ways and begin to clean themselves up. You don’t want to be Courtney Love forever, now do you?

I had this same feeling when I watched the first episode of “The Osbournes”. Ozzy becomes doting father figure to bratty kids? Not exactly what I wanted to see. Watching Ozzy now is like watching an empty shell of a person go through life.

I feel that sometimes ignorance is bliss and that I didn’t have to see this, but my curiosity finally won out. I have to think a little of my innocence was taken away Friday when I saw the Metallica I grew to love turn into sensitive, appeasing people. Damn you Metallica!

Art Michalski hopes your summer is going as crappy as his and doesn’t want to see anymore of his beloved bands do documentaries. Please feel free to call him an elitist snob or anything else you wish to at arthatesyou@detroitbuzz.com.