A Word from AMN: Although this documetnary focuses on Nintendo based music and does not fully represent the chiptune scene, it is still an excellent look into the 8-bit music genre. Chiptune music is older than 20 years, but for those like the author of this article, D'Antares, it opens a whole new world to an underground culture many people have never heard, let alone been exposed to.  D'Antares wrote this excellent review from the perspective of a newcomer on the scene

A REVIEW OF REFORMAT THE PLANET
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If you’ve ever rocked out to some Chiptunes, plan to become a Chiptune musician, or are already part of the Chiptunes landscape, Reformat the Planet is essential viewing.  It’s no Woodstock documentary, but it is as intimate a portrait of the front lines of the 8-bit music scene as one could expect from any music documentary worth its weight.  Focusing primarily on the 2006 Blip Festival in New York City, and interlaced with a blazing (if primarily LSDJ-driven) soundtrack, the film treats the genre with a respect and reverence that makes it accessible to the viewer.

Most footage was shot on location inside The Tank in NYC, ground zero for the three-day Blip Festival, and is supplemented with an array of interviews, factoids, stunning visual art created by brilliant 8-bit minds, and interspersed with footage from Pulsewave, The Tank’s weekly showcase of 8-bit musicians.  As the nucleus of musicians that got the Blip Fest ball rolling describe it, that weekly showcase led to a desire to do “something bigger”, and they began contacting other Game Boy musicians around the world.  Thus was birthed, almost by accident, 2006’s inaugural Blip Festival, an event that featured nearly 40 Chiptune artists from several continents, and drew a crowd of 1,300.  Some for love of electronic music, some for love of the Game Boy and what can be done with it, and some out of mere curiosity.

Given the scope of the daunting task of communicating the vibe of an entire music scene, it is perhaps not a surprise that the movie focuses almost exclusively on the Nintendo-based music; likewise, it focuses on the gathering of musicians, rather than on the lives of the musicians themselves.  Because of its narrow focus, the film only briefly and casually mentions other areas of the Chiptune scene such as Ataris, Commodores, and circuit bending (for instance, the Bent Festival is not covered, but Tristan Perich’s 1-bit circuit with 11 ‘tappable’ songs is featured).

Part of the pure enjoyment of the documentary is the brief shots of the diversity of musical creativity exploding with even the simplest of exploited musical tools – the manic crowd-happy energy of Tokyo’s Hally, the ethereal soundscapes of classically-trained musician Bubblyfish (Haeyoung Kim), the feel-good demi-blues by banjo plucker & Game Boy exploiter Bud Melvin among them.  And each artist is given the spotlight for a brief moment, to explore and communicate that diversity to the audience so they can understand the movie’s central point: artists aren’t up on stage playing video games.  They’re turning old video game hardware into sequencers and synthesizers to create music.  Sometimes it’s a bit-happy rendition of the Eagles’ Hotel California tweaked out, sometimes it’s a live music set (ala Anamanaguchi) that includes a NES cartridge-hack soundtrack as an integral part of the songs.

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Another remarkable aspect of movie and the movement is the amazing array of visualizations rendered by the likes of Dan Winckler and Paris.  They’ve turned the NES systems inside out, not as instruments, but as hardwired computer-animation tools, to create “a whole environment” that creates a “synesthetic experience.”  Employed to sick and hypnotic effect through sound-coordinated hardware hacks output on screen, you can imagine the visuals are what Mario’s and Luigi’s dreams are made of.
And as if to give additional visual homage to the movement itself, the documentary’s video effects seem sometimes surreal, experimental, and abstract (multiple digital copies of a performer that fade out in 8-bit blocks; defocused lensing).  But they are sparsely and inconsistently used, and sometimes distracting, sometimes disorienting.

Still, with a slamming soundtrack, front-seat concert footage, stunning visuals, and candid interviews sans pretense, the movie is perfectly designed to document the enjoyment of the veteran, promote the scene among the curious, and invoke and convey its addictive spirit to the newcomer, all while exploring the concept’s brilliant simplicity.

And perhaps that’s why the sparse and unpredictable use of video-editing effects are left in – not as a mark of novice cinematography, but as an honorarium to the landscape the film travels: abstract, concrete, simple, colorful, narrow and infinite.

Reformat the Planet documents the “departure point” that leads to a “broader level of experimentation in music” well – and for anyone exploring the landscape, it’s a necessary waypoint and key to understanding the movement.  It may not roll mainstream in the conventional sense of Top 40 hits, but it’s clearly a part of the worldwide evolution of music.

Filled with over two dozen songs from the artists featured in the film, Reformat the Planet immerses you so quickly and deeply in the sounds of the scene, you can’t help but instantly feel a part of it. “This is ours,” Bubblyfish reminds us, “it’s not about making money…it’s about creating.”