During the sessions that would produce “Great Balls of Fire,” Jerry Lee Lewis famously fought with Sam Phillips about the sinfulness of rock ‘n’ roll. Phillips thought it could actually save souls; Lewis insisted it was worldly and corrupt. “I got the devil in me!” the Killer shouted. Many a Christian rocker since has played out that argument internally, trying to reconcile his relationship to Jesus and his relationship to the music.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Neither Hunter, who’s agnostic, nor Whinna, an atheist, grew up in a religious household, which may account for the film’s unjaundiced perspective: the filmmakers don’t have an ax to grind with Jesus. And neither of them had ever made a movie before. These days the longtime friends both work for Second City, Whinna as a room manager and Hunter as an accountant. Previously Hunter, a native of Missoula, Montana, was tour manager for Silkworm (she’s married to the band’s bassist, Tim Midgett), and Whinna, who grew up in Chicago, was a clerk at Reckless and an independent concert promoter.
The idea for Devil came from Whinna, who got curious about Christian bands through her boyfriend Steve Albini, who’s recorded several, including the Blamed and the Danielson Famile. “At first, I was interested because it kinda freaked me out,” she says. “When you’d find out a band was Christian, you’d automatically listen to them in a whole different way. I found it sorta funny and ridiculous that all [their] songs could be about one topic. That seemed insane to me. But then I found out separately about JPUSA.”
Despite the common view of evangelical Christianity as a monolithic culture, like the bloc of red states on the electoral map, it’s actually divided on issues like abortion and homosexuality, and Christian rockers often fall on the progressive side on those questions. “There is this outsider Christian community that isn’t very happy about the way homosexuals are treated and is willing to say that,” says Hunter. Among those preaching tolerance in the film are hipster evangelist Jim Bakker–son of Jim and Tammy Faye–and Andrew Mandell of Celtic punks Ballydowse.
Hunter and Whinna have received the kind of validation they were looking for already, during their first trip to Cornerstone. “This punk-looking girl came up to us and asked, ‘Are you the guys making the movie?’” says Whinna. “And with tears in her eyes, she said, ‘I want to thank you for taking us seriously.’ That’s really all we wanted to do.”
164 N. State
