One of the oddest and most compelling aspects of "Metallica: Some Kind of Monster," the new documentary by Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky ("Brother's Keeper"), is watching a band notorious for upholding a spit-in-your-face machismo display a teary-eyed fragility which, at points, seems remarkably sincere.

Filmed over the course of three years, "Monster" chronicles the members of Metallica while they struggle to write and record St. Anger, their first album in years, and attempting to regain the fervor identifiable with their earlier work.

Caught in their most desperate state yet — longtime bassist Jason Newsted has quit the group, citing emotional abuse; drummer Lars Ulrich turns away fans by battling Napster over music rights — the remaining members, in hopes to repair seemingly irreparable damage, hire a therapist.

In the sessions, it unfolds bandmates hardly know eachother, let alone themselves, despite over 20 years together.

Looking older and even astute, frontman James Hetfield speaks of missing his daughter's birthday to drink vodka in Russia and upon returning, recognizes the family life he's subconsciously wanted for so long. Concurrently, Hetfield decides to check himself into rehabilitation and — for seemingly the first time — be a father, in effect leaving the band's project untouched for several months much to the chagrin of Ulrich.

Although each member copes with their respective insecurities, allowing for plenty of touching moments, "Monster" abstains from merely congratulating the group for trying to coexist, but instead offers a more complex sketch of the rock outfit.

Much of the footage portrays them as disillusioned, enacting situational hilarity akin to anything from "This Is Spinal Tap." Feigning integrity, Ulrich expounds on his love of art, comparing his infatuation to that of Jackson Pollack's. Later, we see him drunk on champagne, howling in the back room of an art gallery as his collection auctions off for millions.

And though "Monster" technically follows the band through its completion of St. Anger, it's hardly accurate to describe it as a portrayal of the meticulous hammering-out of a rock album, as seen in such lyrical artist-centered documentaries like Wilco's "I am Trying to Break your Heart."

For one, Metallica is a much different band than the aforementioned gem. Where Wilco displays a palpable sense of struggle to reach sonic precision, Metallica seems merely to struggle, forcing an album haphazardly rather than perfecting it.

Without the narrative expertise of the filmmakers, "Monster" would've been about as engaging as a behind-the-scene investigation of "Will and Grace," or any other highly regarded/marginal-in-delivery phenomenon today.

Fortunately, the importance of the record's actual production — despite lucrative earnings that will surely follow — diminishes over the course of the film, fading out of focus, putting the spotlight instead on the utterly human qualities of the band, creating a profundity of self-reflection rather than adoration.

Grade: AB

"Metallica: Some Kind of Monster," is currently running at the Oriental Theatre, 2230 N. Farwell Ave. For showtimes, call 276-8711.