By now, most of you should realize I’m talking about the guys that brought you 2005’s excellent, comprehensive study of all things metal, Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey. Now the guys are off around the world to delve into cultures where metal has made an unlikely impact – far beyond Europe and North America, and into countries where until recently, playing or even displaying an affinity for metal could get you into big trouble – or worse.

When I think of exotic metal these days, a billion bands come to mind. (That’s what happens when a fun Sunday afternoon for you is visiting every Estonian and Latvian band site listed in the Encyclopaedia Metallum.) However, it all started for me with Sepultura. When I was first getting into metal in my teens, Sepultura‘s Arise and Beneath the Remains weren’t just exotic because of their awesome Lovecraftian artwork or their dirty, raw hybrid of thrash and death metal – it was because these guys were from Brazil, of all places. Made them feel even more unique and special, and Dunn echoes that exact statement as he flies down to Brazil to check out the rabid scene there, where Sepultura are basically national heroes. Through interviews with fans and band members (Angra and Sepultura included), we hear how metal – this fresh, vibrant, exciting music – exploded in the underground consciousness just as the Brazilian dictatorship was ending in 1985, and how it instantly created an entire generation of metal faithful.

This phenomenon of catharsis exploding from within the confines of societal and political repression is a constant theme in the film, as Dunn finds the same thing happening in places you might not expect to find fellow metal fanatics: China. Indonesia. Iran. India. Seeds planted in foreign – and sometimes bitter – soil are bound to produce strange fruit, and as expected, the bands in these burgeoning scenes are not just content to ape the external influences trickling in from the West. They’re making their own statements with the music, whether it’s the politically-explosive death metal of Indonesia’s Tengkorak, the war-zone chronicles of Israel’s Salem, or the surprisingly unhinged, brutal black metal of China’s Ritual Day. (On a related note, I also recommend a documentary called Heavy Metal in Baghdad, about Iraq’s only metal band, Acrassicauda.)

Now, while I didn’t hear anything in the film that qualified as a new genre or a dramatically new take on metal in general, I’m sure we’ll be hearing something fresh come out of these scenes before long. My bets are on India, with some kind of perverse metal antithesis to their relentlessly happy, colorful Bollywood musicals.

As we all know, metal isn’t just a style of music, it’s a culture. A thriving, healthy culture that’s constantly growing and mutating, even as it maintains the core elements of aggression, catharsis, theater and individuality that have made so many of us true believers. In fact, it’s not too far off to call Metal a religion, and based on the legions of screaming fans in just about every country on the planet (half of them wearing Maiden T-shirts, it seems), it’s here to stay.

I could have watched ten hours of this, and I hope Sam Dunn and Scot McFayden can continue to make metal documentaries for as long as they’re able.