The Gits documentary chronicles the life and death of a rocknroll band

By Sheba White
Published: July 7th, 2008 | 1:25pm

Formed in 1986, the Gits were four Antioch College friends who traveled West prior to the early-’90s grunge-rock heyday and quickly made a name for themselves in the Seattle punk-rock scene, particularly with vocalist Mia Zapata’s energetic performances. But just on the brink of signing to a label deal, the Gits’ musical prospects ended. On July 7, 1993, Zapata, who had been described by a label rep as a “raw, pitch-brilliant, blues singer,” was beaten, raped and strangled by a then unknown suspect.

Director Kerri O’Kane’s 2005 The Gits (theatrical release: July 7, 2008) gently touches upon the details involved in Zapata’s death but primarily outlines the rise and fall of the American rocknroll band she fronted. In previous interviews, O’Kane and producer Jessica Bender have stated that they wanted to make a documentary that emphasized the Gits’ artistic legacy, and in the DVD commentary, both agree that the initial draw to their subject, first and foremost was the idea of the band as a family. Yet the camera’s loving, intimate gaze on Zapata’s life and sharply drawn portrait of artistic influence on those around her tells another story.

The first half of The Gits does primarily adhere to the band’s everyman tale outlined through interviews with the three surviving Gits (drummer Steve Moriarty, guitarist Andrew “Joe Spleen” Kessler and bassist Matt Dresdner) and Zapata’s close friends and family. But as the documentary progresses, the focus subtly shifts until Zapata’s life is the predominant force. It’s then that it’s difficult to view The Gits as just another straightforward rocknroll opus.

Given the raw emotions that surround such a tragedy and the participants’ reluctance to talk about what for them is still an open wound (the pivotal moment — the eventual capture and conviction of the perpetrator in 2005 — occurred some time after O’Kane began filming), it’s understandable that O’Kane took such a sensitive approach in portraying Zapata’s life.

“I didn’t want her to die in vain,” O’Kane says in the DVD commentary, “with her legacy just being this murdered girl who nobody knew about. The Gits deserve better than that, and I think Mia deserves better than that.”

Ironically, where O’Kane’s documentary succeeds most is in the parallel struggles she and the interviewees have in talking about the tragic ending to Zapata’s life. It’s because of O’Kane’s reluctance to make the murder the focus that the audience is allowed to experience the betrayal of Zapata’s death with on an organic timeline that would not have been there were the focus solely on her murder.

For the viewer — just as she did for friends and family — Zapata arrives in a burst of distilled precocious moments, and then is just as abruptly gone. Whether intentional or not, O’Kane’s directorial decision makes a relevant argument for considering the entire arc of this brilliant life and painful death of Mia Zapata.

View more online at thegitsmovie.com