A multi-channel paean to Pavement eschews the traditional music biopic format and celebrates the alternative rockers who have built a loyal following outside the mainstream.

In Alex Ross Perry's exuberant tribute to Pavement, Tim Heidecker offers a succinct description of what made the band a fixture on college radio in the '90s: "For kids who thought everything was stupid and everything sucked, they were your band." In an era when rock stars spent hours in the makeup chair doing up their big hair and instead wearing the flannel they wore off the streets, the Stephen Malkmus-led band cultivated a fan base that cared if they looked like they didn't care at all, and stood out during the grunge era for their wry aloofness and a general lack of pretension that belied the sophistication of their songwriting.

Though passion doesn’t necessarily seem to be part of Pavement’s persona, Perry feels compelled to overcompensate, calling them “the most important, influential band in the world” in the opening minutes of his charmingly unashamed celebration — perhaps to curry favor with the uninitiated, but just as likely to convince the band of their own greatness. It’s impossible not to be won over by the director’s efforts, which encompass at least four separate production feats: a recording with the band as they prepare for their first concerts in 12 years in fall 2022, an off-Broadway musical “Slanted! Enchanted!” starring Michael Esper, Zoe Lister-Jones and Kathryn Gallagher, a gallery exhibition “Pavements 33-22” set up like the Whitney Museum where some of the band once worked as security guards, and a brazen, award-winning biopic “Range Life,” starring band members played by Joe Keery, Nat Wolff, Griffin Newman, Logan Miller and Fred Hechinger.

The decadent displays of affection may be a sign of Perry's enthusiasm for Pavement, but they also serve a sly function. The director, who works primarily in fiction, found plenty of suspense in taking audiences backstage in his previous narrative feature, "Her Smell," which tracked the implosion of a band with a volatile lead singer. Yet Perry clearly knows that the reality of most bands is far less dramatic. Malkmus seems like a naturally mild-mannered central figure, and the only major setbacks in Pavement's history involved the firing of their first drummer and an infamous Lollapalooza performance that ended with the audience being pelted with mud. They called it quits in 1999, simply because they were bored.