Documenting an artistic flashpoint

“A Wandering Path: The Story of Gilead Media” documents Adam Bartlett’s beginnings as a music distributor, slowly morphing into a record label, and finally into a highly influential tastemaker for extreme and heavy music in the 21st century.

The strain of the endeavor is the narrative core of the film, but the impact of the Gilead Media label on the bands and fans it united are at its heart. Though it may surprise some viewers, the connection and catharsis provided by Bartlett’s conversations and business decisions generated life-changing moments for musicians and fans.

Formed in Oshkosh, Wis., far from what many would consider a hotbed of creativity, let alone heavy music, Bartlett single-handedly helped shape the face of heavy music by releasing albums by Imperial Triumphant, Thou, Mizmor, Portrayal of Guilt, Krallice and others. While not bands that saw mainstream success, they are well known as influential in the independent heavy music scene.

Bartlett also staged multiple festivals, including the two installments of Migration Fest, which brought together bands from disparate geographic locations, uniting them into a singular experience on the festival stage.

The second Migration Fest, which took place in 2018, serves as the backdrop for the film and allows director Michael Dimmitt (and member of former Gilead band Mutilation Rites) to interweave the stories and music of numerous Gilead Media bands. Therein lies the film’s greatest strength. It is a portrait of musicians who, often inspired by personal tragedy and loneliness, create deeply personal music that speaks to listeners like nothing else can.

In turn, Bartlett, the musicians and fans unite around the label and festival in an honest, touching way that speaks directly to the lifegiving and lifesaving power of art. In a subgenre of music that is intentionally dark, visceral and sometimes intentionally off-putting, as if to dare the listener to engage with it, the heart of the film is surprisingly universal and touching.

The music may not appeal to all viewers, but the film is a powerful love letter for anyone who’s ever felt like a loner outcast and found solace in something others just don’t get.

“I’m not a good person. I’m a bad person. I’m a bad person who wants to do good real bad,” says Austin Lunn, sole member of American black metal band Panopticon. Lunn goes on to detail the role Bartlett played in assertively pushing him to both record as Panopticon, thus helping him process the death of his father, and to finally face his deep-seated fear of performing live and take the stage as Panopticon at the 2018 Migration Fest.

Stories like this are at the heart of “A Wandering Path.” Singer Megan Osztrosits of the band Couch Slut, details the catharsis her music provides to both her and other victims of sexual abuse. Members of bands Hell and Mizmor from Salem, Ore., detail their origins and how collaboration on their solo music projects bound them together in an area where they felt so isolated.

The film isn’t all pain and darkness, however. The laser-focus of Bartlett’s vision and the personal tensions it causes him drive the narrative forward, while the bands themselves provide moments of levity, particularly when director Dimmick’s former band, Mutilation Rites, take the stage.

As the subject matter demands, the film sounds great, too. Live footage of the bands is mixed in a robust fashion. If you aren’t lucky enough to see the film in a theater with a sound turned to the appropriate volume, don’t relegate yourself to TV audio if you watch it at home when it becomes available. Put on some headphones.

Visually, the film’s cinematography highlights the artists in their respective geographies, from the foggy forests of Oregon, to the scenic hills of Appalachia to the city streets of Brooklyn.

Another loving touch is the film’s titles and graphics, all of which provide viewers ample time to drink in band logos and album artwork, a crucial facet of the heavy music experience.

At a screening of “A Wandering Path” in Moscow in late June, director Dimmitt fielded questions from the audience.

“Will there be another Migration Fest?” an audience member asked with an anxious tinge in their voice.

“No,” Dimmitt replied flatly.

He went on to explain that Bartlett’s three brick-and-mortar record stores are financially successful and Bartlett is winding down Gilead Media and “re-homing” the various bands who need a new record label.

At the end of the film, Bartlett’s influence and impact on both a broad and personal scale are clear, and the importance of uniting people under their respective banners is beyond evident. In short, we all need a place, and Bartlett’s relentless vision and diligence generated an artistic flashpoint for folks who otherwise often find themselves isolated. 

Thompson, VHS.D, holds a doctorate of cult media in pop culture from University of Maine at Castle Rock. He delivers lectures on movies and other pop culture topics under the moniker Professor VHS. Find him on Instagram as @professorvhs and reach him via email at lcvrecordswap@gmail.com.