Documentary Review: Chet’s Last Call!: A Story of Rock & Redemption

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2019
Live images © Robert Barry Francos
Other images from the Internet

Chet’s Last Call!: A Story of Rock & Redemption

Directed by the Vitale Brothers (Dan Vitale; Ted Vitale)
CPW Filmworks / Lively Entertainment
85 minutes / 2019
www.facebook.com/Chets-Last-Call-Documentary/

Every city had its “own CBGB” (or Max’s Kansas City), a seedy place where rock and roll (and variations) was played loud and made a national name for itself. For Boston, of course, there was the Ratskeller (fondly known as the Rat). And as there must be an (relative) A-level club, there must also be the smaller, lesser known ones, such as Club 82 in New York, or for Boston, there was Chet’s Last Call.

The thing about the smaller, locally known clubs, there was a bond between the bands and the fans that became a kind of family. While it was open to everyone, the regulars all knew each other, and it was a place where many musicians would go to just hang out after gigs, when the other bars were closed by curfew. They were, for their times, places of magic.

I hung around in Boston quite a bit in the first half of the 1980s, and one of the last times I was there, local scene photographer Rocco Cippilone took me to Chet’s to see Salem 66, who do not appear in the documentary, but do in the photos in this review. However, I did get so see a few of the bands that appear here, such as the Neighborhoods and the Dogmatics, albeit in other venues.



Salem 66 at Chet's (pic (c) RBF)

During the 1980s, Chet’s Last Call lasted through most of the decade, closing in the autumn of 1987; it was near the Boston Garden arena where the Bruins play, and above a mafia bar. Chet’s was a seedy, dilapidated and relatively tiny bar, but hosted some of the top bands to come out of Boston in that period. Honestly, I don’t have much memory of the actual place (I saw a lot of bands in a lot of bars in my life), but respect its history.

 

As important as the club was, this documentary shows that equally important was the man who owned it, larger than life Richard “Chet” Rooney (d. December 2015). There are many descriptions of him, such as intimidating, quick tempered, and extremely friendly. Despite his girth, he was also quite agile at throwing people out the door when need be. He was willing to give nearly any band a chance, and then keep them as regulars if he liked them. As the scene deepened and coalesced into a bonding experience for its regulars, it became a center of drug use – which was quite common in clubs back then – and Chet himself became equally a devotee of that.

I have seen a few documentaries about smaller clubs that became insular, and nearly all of them have similar themes: bar opens, bands play, the regulars bond, and then drugs and/or violence breaks up said scene. Chet’s appears to be no different in that regard, but what they managed to do in that time period is astounding. The level of musicianship and the variety of genres (mostly rock, punk and ska) can be gleaned from this film.

What we are presented with here are a smorgasbord, or buffet of music and musicians from the Boston scene, such as Kenne Highland (the Hopelessly Obscure, a band I helped name and handclapped on their first demo), Rick Barton (cult fave the Outlets; Dropkick Murphys), Dave Minehan (The Neighborhoods; The Replacements), Joe Harvard (d. March 2019), Tim Burton (The Mighty Mighty Bosstones), Ed “Moose” Savage (Moose and the Mudbugs), Billy Cole (The Real Kids), Barrence Whitfiled (Barrence Whitfiled and the Savages), and multiple members of the likes of Pajama Slave Dancers, Harlequin, and the Dogmatics, to name just a few. There were some I was surprised were missing, such as Salem 66 and Willie Alexander.

For the past few years, there has been a yearly concert dubbed Chetstock, where some of the old bands get together and perform. We get to see clips from a bunch of the groups (usually a couple of minutes’ worth) at the last Chetstock, such as Ken Kaiser’s the Beachmasters, the Dogmatics, Pajama Slave Dancers, The Liz Borden Band, Dogzilla, Bim Skala Bim (featuring one of the directors of this release) and the Hopelessly Obscure (doing Kenne’s classic, “Jailbait Janet” from his the Gizmos days).

What interested me as much was some of the classic footage from the period from the likes of the Neighborhoods (who should have been bigger), Scruffy the Cat, and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones.



Salem 66 at Chet's (pic (c) RBF)

What’s equally compelling is much of the staff is also interviewed, including the bouncer, the front door person, the sound guy, and the bartender. Their stories and anecdotes fill in the gaps of what it was like at the place beyond those who came and went, to give a broader picture of what the bar Chet’s was like, and also insights into Chet, the man.

 

With all the interviews and stories, the Vitale brothers do a really great job in keeping the stories from getting repetitious, and manage the flow going throughout. It was easy to sit through the whole documentary and not lose interest, even with the bands with which I was not familiar (e.g., Xanna Don’t, Chelsea Clutch).

It’s no surprise the club burned hot and relatively fast, considering Chet’s predilection for substance abuse, and also the multitude of infractions with the law (underage drinking, drug use on site, dilapidation of the space, etc.). Who knows, perhaps the old bar beneath was tired of the noise. These factors led to its quick shuttering, which leads to the last chapter of the story, namely the “redemption” part as Chet – now back to Richard – gets his life in order and does good for the last couple of decades of his life helping others. This part is just as interesting.

Chet’s may never be as well-known as some of the other bars at the time, but that does not minimize its importance. Luckily, the Vitale Brothers manage to bring the zeitgeist of the place to beyond its time period, so Chet’s Last Call does not need to be its last notice. Thanks for that.