Depeche Mode film ‘M’ review – Under the Spell of the Letter M
Review Depeche Mode film 'M' - Under the Spell of the Letter M
(By János Janurik) It has been almost three years since Depeche Mode released their latest album, Memento Mori-a record dedicated both to a painful loss, the sudden passing of Andy Fletcher, and to the fragile transience of life. Since then, Depeche Mode – and its fanbase – have lived under the spell of the letter M. And with good reason: the now-duo has delivered what may well be their strongest album of the past twenty years, placing it confidently on the table – right next to the skull.
Despite its mournful, philosophical title, the album and the accompanying tour never turned into a travelling requiem. While Fletcher’s memory was honoured, Memento Mori became the proof that, diminished but unbroken, Depeche Mode is alive and very much celebrating life. Death may cast its shadow – like the giant M looming over the stage – but the fire still burns, to quote a beloved line from “Insight.”
Now we receive all of this in image and sound. The former comes courtesy of the 46-year-old Mexican director Fernando Frias, whose film I’m No Longer Here was once pushed toward the Oscars by supporters like Guillermo del Toro. The latter is shaped by Marta Salogni, who also mixed the Memento Mori album.
The title Memento Mori practically predestined the idea that if a concert film were to be made, it should be filmed in a place where honouring the dead and celebrating mortality has ancient roots. And where Depeche Mode, too, is revered. Skull-shaped sugar candies, bread decorated with bones, José Guadalupe Posada’s skeletal figures, and the literary tradition of the calavera – all express a smiling confrontation with the inevitable, the celebration of the passage between life and death. Mexico hears something familiar in this tone – something Europeans might not immediately associate with synth-driven gloom.
Yet Depeche Mode concerts have always been communal rituals, capable of lifting even their darkest songs. When thousands sing their sorrows together with Dave and Martin, the experience is incomparable – nothing like listening alone at home, wrestling with melancholy. Once the vibe catches you, it never lets go.
Mexico has welcomed Depeche Mode with open arms since their first visit in December 1993, when they played two sold-out shows at the Sports Palace. After a brief hiatus, they returned regularly from the Touring The Angel era onwards, becoming fixtures at the Foro Sol stadium. Such devotion deserved to be immortalised. The theme was lying on the ground – all they had to do was pick it up. Where else would a Memento Mori concert film be made, if not in a country where skull motifs have been part of the culture for three millennia?
M for Mode; M for Mexico City; M for movie; M for “music till we die.”
This is what M, the film, is about: Mexico, Mode, Memento Mori, and the stage shaped around all of them.
Many agree that Depeche Mode’s legendary concert films – The World We Live In…, 101, Devotional – never truly found worthy successors. Anton Corbijn’s One Night in Paris came close, but the rest always lacked that elusive something. Fernando Frias seems ready to join this canon, at least when it comes to capturing the visual essence of three sold-out Mexican nights.
The camera work is striking: intimate close-ups showing every wrinkle and silver hair – reminders that time leaves its mark even on icons – and artistic montages and collages. What the film shows of Mexico, its death-culture, and the fan obsession is intriguing but could have gone deeper. We see fans – some looking as though they might be heading to a Marilyn Manson or death-metal show – but we rarely hear what binds them to this very European sound.
The fans in 101 – sometimes annoying, but authentically American – represented a generation rebelling by making a pilgrimage to an electronic band in the heartland of country music. A similar deep-dive into Mexican devotion could have been even more fascinating. Instead, we hear only that the word once spread via VHS tapes – something every Eastern European fan nods at knowingly, united by a shared cultural déjà vu across continents.
The passion of Latin and South American fans, however, would have easily warranted a deeper dive – especially since several other synth- and dark-pop icons have experienced the same devotion, from Erasure to the Pet Shop Boys to The Cure.
And it would have been great to hear Mr. Martin L. and Mr. Gahan speak about this leg of the tour: how they see their Mexican fanbase, what this intensity means to them – ideally accompanied by a few backstage or on-the-road moments. Instead – aside from a stylised closing scene in which the “M” becomes one with Madrid’s train station – we only get their on-stage presence.
Still, none of this diminishes the film’s impact. The goosebump moments are all there: the touching tribute to Andy Fletcher during “World In My Eyes”; Dave Gahan spinning and posing like an energy bomb, as if even his Pilates instructor would applaud; and Martin Gore cheekily tapping out the main motif of “Everything Counts” with one finger, fully aware that this simple melody has been electrifying audiences for forty years. “Speak To Me” still hits straight to the heart, “Wrong” clenches the fists with its helpless rage, and during “Stripped” we watch a forest of mobile phones with a blasé stare as Dave sings: “Let me hear you make decisions / Without your television…” – and the crowd, naturally, misses the point. Not so during the “Never Let Me Down Again” arm-wave – but that’s been a sacred ritual for more than thirty-five years.
The camera doesn’t overlook Christian Eigner and Peter Gordeno either: the director subtly emphasises that they too are crucial parts of this musical machine – even if the core of Depeche Mode remains Dave and Martin.
Depeche Mode’s ‘M’ is about remembering mortality
All in all, Depeche Mode’s “M” turned out well. And now that the new track “In the end,” previously heard only during the end credits, has officially arrived as a teaser for the upcoming Depeche Mode M / Memento Mori Mexico City release on December 5, fans like me are anticipating the chance to relive the ritual – in sound and vision – and to experience the Mexican concert in full.
Remembering mortality, yet trusting that Depeche Mode is still driven by the same impulse: music till we die.
And the good news is: with the wide range of audio and video formats on the horizon, everyone will find the edition that suits them best. Pre-orders are already open across the usual online music retailers.
Chief editor of Side-Line – which basically means I spend my days wading through a relentless flood of press releases from labels, artists, DJs, and zealous correspondents. My job? Strip out the promo nonsense, verify what’s actually real, and decide which stories make the cut and which get tossed into the digital void. Outside the news filter bubble, I’m all in for quality sushi and helping raise funds for Ukraine’s ongoing fight against the modern-day axis of evil.
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