Critics reviews

Short-sighted [and] soundbite-intensive... A lot of egocentric generalizations and weird omissions typifies [Meet Me in the Bathroom]—and make their premature encomiums for recent history seem even more unnecessary.

Meet Me in the Bathroom‘s winnowed focus turns what could have been a vibrant behind-the-scenes doc into more conventional, surface-skimming fare.

[The film features] revealing glimpses into the early work of artists who would morph into entities that were slicker and ostensibly cooler... The most interesting narrative thread is that of Murphy... in which Murphy elaborates on the title condition, was born out of genuine desperation rather than ironic drollery.

[The film] will make you feel nostalgia for the bygone heyday of millennial indie rock... but [it] leaves us hanging from there. In other ones, “Meet Me” is music to the ears of their fans but will probably mean little to anyone else.

Meet Me in the Bathroom succeeds when viewed as a celebratory snapshot of the Big Apple’s pre-9/11 rock youth. Still, the overall approach feels off and somewhat uninspired. There are plenty of second-half sound bites that would’ve worked well as first-act tone-setters, and the filmmakers repeatedly use montages to create energy that the music itself should provide.

For fans of 00s post-punk, Meet Me in the Bathroom’s intimate archive footage will scratch a nostalgic itch. But given that the film trades on the spectacle of pain rather than saying anything meaningful about it, I couldn’t help asking, ‘Is this it?’

Although seamlessly edited, Bathroom‘s a muddy viewing experience, bouncing unevenly between different aspect ratios, its aesthetic more à la the warm English beer of their international tours than coke that fueled enthusiasm and egos.

Meet Me in the Bathroom offers an exhilarating time capsule... [but it also] manages to be more than just a nostalgia trip, examining the impact of the scene within the almost-unrecognizable music industry of today and how the youthful energy that defined these bands has mellowed as they become something closer to legacy acts.

Blasting through concert clips, home movies, and contemporaneous interviews, the filmmakers zero in on as many capital-M moments as they can... without filling in all the details that surrounded them. The result is a warm but hazy guided tour of a scene as it’s most vividly remembered, rather than how it was.

What’s most compelling about the documentary is the archival footage (some previously unseen) of the bands during their first fledgling efforts, though the presence of the tangible music that shot these musicians to stardom remains elusive. Even so, the footage is less of a veritable well than a shallow pond—incredibly limited and revealing little depth.

Considering everything that Lovelace and Southern have to compress into this documentary from Goodman's book, it's impressive how well they're able to do this period and the music justice... Meet Me in the Bathroom is a tremendous document of one of the most integral musical periods of our time

Understandably, the film tries to convey and cover off the scene as a whole – a big ask, with New York a character in its own right. But the jumping about from one band narrative to another can feel a little jarring at times... [Meet Me] works well, though, as a fascinating time capsule of millennial cultural history.