Review of the music documentary 'Depeche Mode: M'
A scene from the Netflix documentary "Depeche Mode: M."

This music documentary newly released on Netflix focuses on the stunning Mexico City performances of the band Depeche Mode and their thematic link with that city



When I saw about a month back that a music documentary on the British band Depeche Mode was soon to be released on Netflix, I was highly intrigued. I have been familiar with the music of Depeche Mode for decades, but what intrigued me about the documentary was its setting. For it focuses on just one part of the band’s extensive tour that had taken them to a great number of cities across Europe and North America in 2023-4. The documentary is exclusively concerned with three sold-out shows in Mexico City that, in total, were attended by 200,000 fans in the grand stadium of Foro Sol.

I wondered what the special connection was between the British band and the huge Latin American megalopolis. So the day "Depeche Mode: M," directed by Fernando Frias de la Parra, was released on Netflix, I eagerly watched the documentary to learn the answer. In the documentary, one fan explains the enduring popularity of the band:

"I think Depeche Mode belongs to a different time. Depeche Mode is tattooed in the heart of three of four generations, and that lets them connect with new generations. What I think is hard for a band nowadays is to last as long as Depeche did."

Nonetheless, similar sentiments could probably have been found in any other of the places in which the band performed on their tour. Also, whilst the trisyllabic chant of "Depeche Mode” given by the crowd sounds a lot like the proud national chant of "Mexico,” this could not be the particular reason for the special connection between the band and Mexico City either. However, it is soon clear in the documentary that it is the latest album by Depeche Mode, which the tour was promoting, that explains the link.

The name of that album is Memento Mori. For those who do not recognize this Latin expression, it means, in the translation given by the documentary "Remember You Must Die.” Depeche Mode have never been a bubbly band by a long shot, but from the documentary, it is understood that the obsession with death reflected by the new album is inspired by the loss of one of the founding band members, the keyboardist Andrew Fletcher in 2022, as well as the global focus on mortality inspired by the recent pandemic.

Geographically though, there is possibly no place on earth to which the recognition of death is more associated with than Mexico City. For every November, this city has a mass celebration for the Day of the Dead in which the remembrance of those who have passed is carried out in a spirit of festivity rather than mourning, and in which Death itself, through a parade of colorful comical costumes and floats, is effectively rendered a figure of fun. The colorful skulls with "Joy” written upon them in the documentary surely reference this festival.

This would seem to explain why, as a Mexican fan puts it, "people here ‘get’ their music. We feel it. We have a lot of that undercurrent of death.” The connotation of Mexico City with death goes deep into the city’s history and predates its transformation into a Spanish-speaking Catholic city following its conquest from the Aztecs by the Spanish in the 1520s. For what is perhaps still best-known about the extinguished Aztec culture was its practice of human sacrifice.

The documentary opens with panoramic views, in the resolution of a late 20th-century video cassette, of the natural beauty of Mexico, and also its natural power through its active volcanoes. Speaking over this is a voice explaining the Aztec, or Mexica, faith:

To ensure the sunrise through an offering of blood. This was the premise of Mexica human sacrifice. A daily sacrifice by the individual to guarantee the community’s well-being. The location for the sacrifice, atop a pyramid. The connection between art and offering was absolute for the Aztecs, and with these actions they were consecrated. Therefore, in Mexico, pre-Hispanic cultures stood out for their humanism. Mictlan, the Underworld, the land of the dead. Each one recalling their honorable actions in this life. Nine levels to pass through on the way toward the soul’s full liberation. And Death would say, I am that charming and mournful magician, who in reaping love and joy, forever douses the fevers of pain.

That the song "Wagging Tongue” with the lyric "another sun is rising” features in the documentary is thus surely not accidental. However, there is ambiguity in the exposition of the Mexica/Aztec faith, for is "humanism” really an apt description of a culture that killed multitudes of people by cutting out their hearts whilst they were still alive? And the "art” referred to, is that the monumental architecture of the pyramid or perhaps the "art” of human sacrifice? Nevertheless, this introductory commentary connects the idea of death, art and struggle in a way that the lyrics of their music suggest Depeche Mode regard their calling, as well as linking it to a fundamental idea deep in Mexican history. And even though the days of human sacrifice are long gone, Marina Azahua reveals in the documentary that "we realize that the funeral rites in Mexico are extremely complex and this is still part of everyday life.” As such, the importance of Mexico City in particular to Depeche Mode is made evident.

Depeche Mode in concert at the Ziggo Dome, Amsterdam, The Netherlands, May 16, 2023. (Shutterstock Photo)

Perspectives on death

The Aztec conception of death also carries what is perhaps a more profound understanding of it than the opposite of "memento mori,” that is, a fear-based desire to avoid thought of it at all costs. For in the Aztec presentation, death is at worst effectively neutral, in that it extinguishes the joy in life for sure but it equally ends the pain that life seems to be so replete with. And if it is accepted as truism that the intensity of joy rarely if ever exceeds than the intensity of pain, then death, in releasing us from pain, is effectively benevolent.

Yet this documentary on a band that likes to probe the profundities of life appropriately does not present a didactic message. The question of whether death is a transitional state is raised by the stages the soul passes in the Aztec afterlife. The new song from Memento Mori "Soul With Me,” also suggests that death is not synonymous with annihilation. Rather, the lyrics of this song refer to an "ever after,” which commences with the "golden stairs” that are climbed in "the open sky.” The new state stands in positive contrast to the world left behind, as here "there are no cares” as opposed to the personal "problems/ And the world’s disasters” experienced in life.

Yet, this is not the only approach to death put forward by the band. A different view is presented in the documentary from a much earlier Depeche Mode song that was also included in the Memento Mori tour. And this 1990 song, "World in My Eyes” is clearly presented as a tribute for Fletcher as it is in the performance of this song that his image is projected above the stage and poignantly held in a paper version by thousands of fans. In this older song though, the lyrics include "let me take you on a trip/Around the world and back,” and on this trip will be seen "the highest mountain” and "the depths of the deepest sea” but all that is seen "That’s all there is,” "the world in my eyes/That’s all there is,” strongly implying that death is the final end.

By including this song in the tour and especially by linking it to Fletcher, the band seem to be adding to their espousal of constant awareness of death some kind of doubt as to what death actually means.

Mexico City, its culture of death

As suits a band that poses profound questions, the relationship between Mexico City and death, though the ostensive reason for the documentary, is also called into question. This was both unexpected and highly commendable.

Though the Day of the Dead is a day of festivity and fun implying that the Mexican people have no fear of death, and even, on the contrary, seem to literally enjoy laughing in the face of it, the documentary introduces other voices to question this. One, that of Claudio Lomnitz, avers that the "nationalization of death, and glorification of Mexican attitudes toward death, are a 20th-century phenomenon.” That is, that it is not a real Mexican tradition at all, rather an invented one. Luis Felipe Fabre also finds something odd in "the idea of a candy skull” symbolizing that "Mexicans laugh at death” for he notes that the real tradition of Mexico, which can be found in "old Mexica poems,” shows that "they are not making fun of death, no. I mean, there is a hyper-tragic sense of existence.”

In the middle of the documentary, further comment is given in which it is directly questioned as to whether "death” is really "a national symbol” of Mexico at all. And in this commentary, it is argued that the Day of the Dead, for instance, is a Catholic import much as the Carnival is in Brazil and that it has no authentic cultural roots in Mexico.

Other questions raised by band

Profound questions unrelated to death are also posed by the band. One song from 1990 but also included in the tour, "Enjoy the Silence” gets the listener to consider whether what is most important to the human experience actually lies outside of the ability of language to convey it. It also examines the role language plays in causing "harm" through miscommunication.

Then there is also the first song featured in the documentary, which is also the first track on Memento Mori, "My Cosmos is Mine.” This is brilliant in that it not only puts forward the existential importance of personal autonomy and authenticity to one’s own inner self, but then twists the expectations of it. The idea that "My cosmos is mine” and that I can believe whatever I want and live my life accordingly is a fundamental human right. However, once the song reaches the lyrics of "Don’t knock down my shrines/Don’t alter my headlines/My cosmos is mine,” the danger of each person living in their echo chamber is strongly implied. Then the following "No war, no war, no war, no more, no more, no more,” however sincerely pled for, is rendered ironic, for it is these echo chambers that obviously make conflict more not less likely.

I think the greatest song in the documentary is "Wrong” which I heard for the first time in it, though it was actually released back in 2009. The adjective of the title is repeated throughout this song like a peel of doom, speaking of everything being wrong from birth to all the decisions made in life and the way they have been acted upon. It is a song with direct appeal to anyone who has ever felt themselves in deep melancholy.

Then there is the moral outrage that Depeche Mode songs can convey. For a band that was formed at the beginning of the 1980s, their formation pretty much coincided with the beginning of the dismantling of the postwar social system in the U.K. and the U.S. that has continued down to this day. The old system was replaced with the promotion of the idea that what is good for the individual is right, and thus greed became the new virtue of that decade as reflected in films such as Wall Street. Then began, what Depeche Mode call "a competitive world” in their song "Everything Counts,” which is also featured in the documentary. This song strips away "the lies and deceit” under which this supposed ideal of individualism operates to reveal that it is simply a case of "the grabbing hands grab all they can.” One only needs to look at the international news these days to see that such hands are no less active today than they were in the 1980s, and are arguably much more so.

Attraction of Depeche Mode

The documentary does not simply show why Depeche Mode is such a big deal in Mexico. It reveals why they are still such a music powerhouse nearly half-a-century on after their forming. Of course, the main reason for this is their continuing to produce music, such as Memento Mori, rather than relying upon their successes of the past. They are also experimental. Depeche Mode is known for their electronic music and this is something that they have continued to produce. However, the documentary also clearly reveals that their musical scope is far wider than this. "Condemnation” is not in their usual style and "Soul With Me” is, as its title suggests, actually performed soulfully.

Another element to Depeche Mode has already been touched upon, and that is the way in which the band imbue their songs with power through their use of monosyllabic repetition, such as in "Wrong” and "My Cosmos is Mine.” There is also monosyllabic power in "Personal Jesus,” which is the last song of the documentary before the credits roll. Anyone who has felt a religious compulsion, regardless of which religion that is, can surely relate to the simple potency of "reach out, touch faith.”

So far, pretty much I have looked at here concerning the band could be discovered simply by listening to their albums. Yet, the other important aspect that the documentary reveals is how impressive Depeche Mode is onstage. In particular, the lead singer, Dave Gahan, not only have the requisite voice for his role in a major band, but he is also a consummate performer. As he sings, he owns the stage in such a way that the eyes of every member of the audience must be riveted to him. He engages with the crowd, he whirls, he drops to his knees, enhancing the power of his lyrics with his performance.

All in all, the music documentary "Depeche Mode: M," though surely far inferior to the experience of actually being present in Foro Sol, is a delight to watch. Among the commentaries, the occasional lack of consistent relevance and the odd cliche presented prevent me from giving this documentary a perfect score, but I still highly recommend it to anyone, especially those who enjoy modern music.

Review 4½ from 5