"The Gits": Seattle band's rise came to an abrupt end

Stories about the determined rise of a rock 'n' roll band are often uniquely embedded with dramatic potential. It helps when the characters are fully rounded and the context includes elements of an American Dream touched by destiny, and perhaps tragedy.

All those dynamics rise to the fore in "The Gits," a candid appraisal and sharp celebration of a band that left a singular mark on pop music at a time and place when people were obsessed with similarity.

The Gits were often overlooked by virtue of their distinction in a larger rivalry that strove to pigeonhole music into a genre with a catchy name. When the world pounced on Seattle and the marketability of grunge, the Gits had been sweating and struggling for years. They were a punk band with an emotional pop voice and a female lead singer who alternately channeled Bessie and Patti Smith. Mia Zapata also brought the band iconic status by dint of a persona that was utterly exclusive.

"The Gits" fawns over Zapata as the charismatic front, but her individuality was not unique. Beginning with their formation in college, the band remained fiercely loyal to one another, and it's clear they would not have thrived without each contributing a specific piece. In a patchwork of interview segments with guitarist Andy Kessler, bassist Matt Dresdner and drummer Steve Moriarty, the film captures a remarkable sense of intelligence that sparked their drive.

The archival footage of the band is also wide-ranging and packs a stunning punch. Seeing Zapata belt it out with such ferocious, bluesy power makes clear why the Gits' legacy hasn't lessened, unlike the diminishing authority of many bands that made a big noise during the same era.

When the steamroller of the early-'90s Seattle scene was in full rev, the Gits made the same rounds as other bands that were exploring variations on a sonic theme. It may sound disingenuous when Kessler says it, but the film gives evidence that the Gits were not part of grunge. What separated the Gits was a purer, faster ethos that may have made them a harder sell than the guitar-fuzzed longhairs that became record-label darlings.

The Gits were on a cusp in 1993, finally making their own mark with recordings and larger tour bookings, and distinguishing themselves from other bands — notably 7 Year Bitch, whose members also are interviewed — that were part of a more exclusive circle. But in July of that year, the impending success ended when Zapata was murdered.

The film devotes a somber third act to the crime and its aftermath, a segment that is far less engaging despite the inherent drama. Comments from friends, Zapata's family and the Seattle police detective who cracked the case 10 years after the fact are integral to the story and provide completion, but the film falters with the change in tone.

Even though the Gits' influence on pop-music history was never in question, "The Gits" clears up any confusion about who they were and why they still matter.

Ted Fry: tedfry@hotmail.com