Lemmy, the result of three years of trailing the man with a camera through concert halls and his preferred grungy L.A. environs, meanders in a very different way from his band's two-minute songs. The first few scenes alone offer a beautifully odd portrait of a 65-year-old rock god, frying potatoes in his smallish rent-stabilized apartment, ambling down to Amoeba Records to buy a Beatles box set, and dominating a trivia game's high-score list at the Rainbow Bar and Grill. A quietly witty film, much like the dude himself.