British
guitarist and bassist Noel Redding had a storied career in some heavy hitting
bands in the early 1960s and mid- to late-1970s, such as Fat Mattress and the
Noel Redding Band. That being said, what he will be immortalized for, fairly or
not, is the three years (1966-69) that he was the bassist of a trio known simply
as The Jimi Hendrix Experience.
Noel Redding and Jimi Hendrix
For
nearly all of the 40 minutes of this interview, he discusses his role playing besides
Hendrix, and how he was bought out and then denied any royalties from his three
albums with the Experience when Jimi died without a will.
The
interview is a one camera deal with it nearly unmoving other than the rare fade
in to close-up and fade out to long shot. He sits on a couch and is questioned
by an unseen Brit (Will Scally, I am assuming). Where this is taped (seems like
VHS quality) and for what purpose / show is not mentioned. It just starts with
Noel and ends with Noel, though the occasional stock footage of black and white
London scenes from the ‘60s is sometimes interspersed.
It
takes a while for the monotone-ish Noel to get past his pre-Experience – er –
experience, as he talks about earlier bands and how he put down the guitar to
pick up the bass for this group just before meeting Hendrix. By 20 minutes in
(the half-way point), it actually starts to get more interesting as he discusses
the exhaustion of touring, the drug use around him, his own role in the band as
beat-keeper, and Hendrix’s way of playing the guitar upside-down.
Amazingly,
he wasn’t fond of most of the band’s most popular releases (e.g., “Purple Haze”),
and goes on to list songs he thought were good and the ones he didn’t care
about.
This
isn’t a deep conversation. And while Noel is stoic, sitting on the couch, he is
also apparently a bit fidgety, almost like he just does not want to be there
(the watch checks are a good indication). However, as a historical document
about one of the most discussed and written about musicians in the modern era
(including by Redding, who wrote an autobiography called Are You Experienced?) from someone who was actually there rather
than second hand stories alone makes this important.
I
would say you probably need to be a hardcore Hendrix fan or music historian to
get sufficient amounts out of this, but if you are, you should.
Noel
Redding died in 2003 at the age of 57 of cirrhosis of the liver. Foreshadowing
this, it is noteworthy that as the interview ends, and you can see him checking
his watch often. Towards the end of it, he mentions, “Time for a pint” as the
camera is turned off.
Watching CBGB’s: The Movie (yeah, I’m just getting’ to it now, you wanna
make somethin’ of it?), and here are some comments that I’m sure most of which
have already been logged elsewhere before, but I’m just riffing.
While I believe they should have used Please Kill Me as a reference, as it is the source of information of the period.
Using the Punk mag framework is
interesting. The ‘zine came out, however, after the scene had already started,
so… how can they posit that they originated the music revolution after the
Ramones were already playing over a year?
Johnny Galecki does a decent Terry
Ork, but I remember Ork being a lot more twitchy, quirky and effervescent. We (I
and Bernie Kugel) used to stop by Cinemabilia, the film memorabilia store he
worked, and buy his singles directly from him.
The stage is on the wrong side of the
club, as it wasn’t moved to the right side until a couple of years later (the first
band I saw play on the new stage was Blondie). Early on, the pool table was on
the right, where the stage ended up.
The sound system started out as crap,
until Hilly infamously bought a way-expensive and incredibly sounding one later
in the ‘70s. It was top of the line for it’s time considering how the club
looked so run down.
When we meet Television, the focus
seems to be on Tom Verlaine, and they definitely undercut Richard Hell’s
personality, which was equally as strong. And I remember Hell being twitchier
on stage, jerking around and weaving back and fourth, rather than leaning
forward aggressively.
The soundtrack is the best thing so
far, but they’re too ambitious, just playing the opening notes of Lou Reed’s
“Heroin” and the Flamin’ Groovies’ “Slow Death,” for example. As much as I love
the song, the placement of the Count IV’s “Psychotic Reaction” confused me. Much
of the music in the film is, of course, out of sequence chronologically, but
I’ve heard that complaint before…anyway back to it.
Oh, and Jonathan, the dog, was way-way
uglier. He was a friendly pooch who mostly left you alone, though he really did
shit all over the place. I always kept away from the pinball machine near the
door because underneath was a favorite place of his to release the hounds of
bowels.
Talking Heads first show as in June
1975, opening for the Ramones (first show I saw there). Blondie opened for the
Ramones a few weeks after that. There were maybe twelve people in the audience.
I never saw a full house until a couple of years after that. The first time I needed
to make a reservation was early ’77 when the Dead Boys were opening for the
Damned. The actor who plays Debbie Harry is mangling her New Jersey (not New
York) accent. When Talking Heads played, bassist Tina Weymouth was focused on
Byrne with big, staring eyes, not unfocused off in the opposite direction.
Byrne waved his head back and forth when he sang, though in the first show I
saw he moved the front of his head instead of the back, so his voice had a
Doppler effect.
I never ever saw Patti Smith booed for
doing poetry on stage. She usually read until the band was plugged in, tuned,
and ready to play. Of course, “Because the Night” wasn’t performed until much,
much later, as it was co-written with Springsteen, and she would not have ad
access to that large an A-list talent at the beginning. By 1975, when Patti
played the Bottom Line (the first time I saw her play, but hardly the last),
she rarely was at CBs anymore, though infamously – and it’s mentioned at the
end of the film – she was the last to play on its stage.
The best part of the Punk interview with Lou Reed was when
they mentioned how Handsome Dick Manitoba of the Dictators called him a creep
in the song "Two Tub Man," thoughthe line was actually written by Adny/Andy Shernoff, and they never
mentioned that it was a lyric), and he became irate. I never saw Johnny Ramone
rush off the stage in anger, but did see DeeDee do it a couple of times after
getting electrical shocks.
Much as I love Wayne/Jayne County, and
give her props for helping the scene in its most nascent stages, I think of her
more as a Max`s person, probably because she wrote (and performed) the
definitive theme song for the other club, and DJ'd there often.
The Dead Boys' portrayal seems pretty
decent to how I remember, though it would have been cool to show how Stiv
climbed inside the bass drum, as he did sometimes. However, this scene is
definitely based on a 1977 film clip of the band that is available on YouTube.
Ron Weasley's Cheetah Chrome is quite good, though; it was the first thing that
made me smile in the film. Check out Cheetah`s version of the events in his
autobiography (reviewed HERE).
As for song-time being accurate, it is
correct that they had Blondie doing "X-Offender" in that period. While I know
Debbie and Iggy had a bond through both being ex-users, and were friendly, I
never heard of them playing together on stage at CBs; in fact, I don`t remember
Iggy ever on stage there at all, although I could be wrong about this. I wasn`t
there every night, after all.
Joey Ramone reading a contract? He was
way smarter than most people gave him credit for, but he also had incredibly
bad eyesight, and received most of his news from television (as opposed to
Television).
I`m an Alan Rickman fan (been so
especially since Kevin Smith`s Dogma
in 1999, though his stance on being anti-Israel is weighing heavily on me), but
even he can't help the dragging second and third acts. Hell, even Johnny Blitz
getting stabbed seems…whatever. And what about the Blitz Benefits? They were
amazing; went to two of the three, and saw Belushi fill in on the drums with
the Dead Boys.
Oh, and Teenage Jesus and the Jerks
were also mostly a Max`' band (though they may have played CBs, too). They were
one of the worst interviews I ever did; total assholes.
And what about the Live at CBGB's double LPs No mention of
that at all. I have a distinct memory of driving there on my way to somewhere
else in the rain, just to pick up the copies directly from the club. Yes, I
still have them.
The Police were as boring live in real
life as they were in this film. Saw them play the Diplomat Hotel basement for
about 100 people around the time of "Roxanne" and thought they were absolutely
terrible (The Vapors, who I also saw there, were so much better). My good
friend`s future ex-wife never forgave me for hating them and wanted me banned
from being Best Man at their wedding. Nice.
It was nice to see Genya Ravan
portrayed. Her rightful distaste of the Dead Boys' use of Nazi imagery is well
documented, and the actor playing her, Stana Katic, did a decent job, despite
the poor New York accent, but where was Castle? Check out Genya's excellent
autobio, Lollipop Lounge (2004).
The Dictators' music is represented
and there is a little Dictators sticker at the beginning, but they were the
first CBGBs band singed, despite the nada physical depiction on film. Johnny
Thunders and Walter Lure, while being mostly (again) related to Max`s, rarely
played CBGBs in their various forms, such as the Heartbreakers, the Heroes, the
Waldos, etc.
Thee were also many strange acts to
play there, that one would not normally thing of, such as Peter Tork and Tom
Petty and the Heartbreakers (I had some words with him about that name: HERE).
Overall, yes, it was important for me
to watch this, but mostly, yeah, it was a bad film.
Postscript
by Phyllis Stein:
I
don`t remember Iggy ever playing with Blondie at CBGBs. Although Iggy did hang
out one night in the summer of 1977 with Thunders, Sable [Starr], and me. The
Blitz stabbing was fiction in the film. The rest of the Dead Boys were not even
with Johnny Blitz when he was stabbed. Blitz was with his girlfriend, Michael
Sticca, and Marcia Leone, Billy Rath`s girlfriend. The soundtrack is a joke.
The New York Dolls never played there ever! And the Talking Heads song they
included was much later from 1978. Jonathan was a Saluki. In the film, they
cast Jonathan as an Afghan hound. I could go on and on, but I`m sure you get my
point.
RBF: Please feel free to add your own
corrections below in the comment section. Note that what you write will not
show up until I approve it, to fight SPAM.
Text by Robert Francos / FFanzeen, 2014 Images from the Internet
The Sex Pistols on TV: The TV Interviews
(Un)Censored Directed by Mark Sloper Odeon Entertainment A2B Media / ITN Source 120 minutes, 2010 www.mvdvisual.com
Before I
start the review, first some wavy lines of a flashback: when VHS first started
to be mass marketed, there were a series of tapes of popular groups like the
Beatles and Elvis that just showed press conferences and news pieces, without
any music by the artists they covered. The reason was simple in that music
meant royalty fees. Fast forward to this release.
I need to
cover this review in two pieces, first the content and then a bit deeper.
Perhaps not on a Greil Marcus level, but here we go. Wheeeee.
There is no real flow here, just a
semi-chronological order as we follow the boys through their careers. Smartly,
it starts with just a brief clip from
the infamous Bill Grundy interview that everyone who is interested in this has
probably seen soooooo many times EV-rywhere. Thank you for that, director
Sloper.
Separated by
title cards displaying year(s) and focus of a particular set of clips, we are
shown television shows and interviews with the group, some band members, or
those associated with them. Clips run from pretty short at a couple of minutes
to extended pieces, resulting in 2 hours of all-Pistols-and-Pistols-related-all-the-time.
Which has its good and bad points.
The good is
that there are many clips here I’ve never seen from British shows, including those
culled from music news programs, something the US did not really have during
the Pistols’ tenure (unless you want to count the ridiculous segments on the
likes of Tom Snyder’s Tomorrow Show,
or Phil Donohue). There’s a couple of
Janet Street Porter, a tall woman with big teeth and a thick north U.K. accent,
for example, trying to get a decent answer out of Lydon (I admired when Johnny
then-Rotten gives an bemused, off-hand side comment on how her obviously dyed red
hair is the same color as rhubarb; see video below). Mostly they’re met with
derision while being accused of being devious. It’s a joy watching Lydon take
the piss out of them, never storming off the set, but just sauntering off after
acknowledging the bias against the band. Then again, he walks around with a
joyful metaphorical target on his vest.
The bad part
is that all of the news stories are somewhat taken out of context. Captions
stating the names of the programs or interviewers would certainly have been
most helpful. I’m sure the audience in England will know the program(me)s, but
we Yanks may not. I found that really annoying. Also, all music is taken off,
even if set in the background, and replaced with a generic piece that has sort
of a Pistols feel to it, albeit with all the life sucked out of it. It is also
repeated throughout the whole collection. By the end of the two hours, it made
me question whether I will ever watch this again.
Of course,
there are some news clips that were used in some previous documentaries about
the Pistols, especially on the US tour (let’s see the redneck jocks makin’ fun
of the punkers, before they would realize that they could inflict some serious body
damage in a mosh pit if they joined in). And there are the New York City news
reports of Sid’s death, especially my favorite one of Roger Grimsby (ABC News)
pronouncing that it all happened at the “Chel-sah” Hotel. See, I knew that one
because it was local for me. Anyone outside of NYC would not have a clue; even
then I wanted some caption so everyone can know.
The quality of the pieces ranges from sharp to obviously
taken from old home-recorded off the television VHS grainy. Yes, there is a lot
of information in this, and it is especially interesting to watch Rotten stay
the same and yet evolve at the same time as far as using the media as much as
it used him. With the exception of Sid and Johnny, nearly all the others
(Jones, Cook, and Matlock) get very brief vocal time. There are also no clips
talking about Rotten getting slashed with a knife on the street (perhaps it was
before Grundy? No, I’m not going to look it up).
As far as
face time goes, more is given to Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood than to
the rest of the band. Sure, Rotten gives some snide comments about them here
and there, but he and Sid are the focus of this. Gotta say, though, I did see
Matlock’s Rich Kids - which is never mentioned here, though Lydon’s post-Pistol’s
PiL is - a couple of times, once opening for Sylvan Sylvan’s 14th
Street Band at Hurrah’s, and they weren’t all that interesting. I remember
Jones being on a “stay away from drugs kids” commercial and a couple of mentions
in a book by the lovely Miss Pamela DesBarres, but the rest of the band didn’t
really have much other than the Pistols.
Some of the
news segments include the aforementioned PiL, a couple of the Pistols reunions,
brief pieces on the US tour (mostly the southern end rather than California),
and a pretty interesting section from the early 1990s on how they affected
Manchester by playing there, leading to the formation of bands like the
Buzzocks. There are interviews with Howard Devoto, Steve Diggle, Pete Shelley,
and members of other bands as well. There is even a news story on the making of
Sid and Nancy.
What I found
most interesting, however, is a 20-plus minute interview in a bar near the end with
a jetlagged Lydon-Rotten where he is actually answers questions (the next
interviewer – or previous one, it’s not clear – was not so lucky). He happily
and intelligently talks – and often talks over – without giving in to the usual
“ask an intelligent question” mode he tends to fall into. He seems to be having
fun, and is quite informative. This piece alone is worth the watch, though as a
whole it’s an important piece of collected history; this one, however, is the
keeper.
One last
thing before I become more of an academic: why does Sloper call himself the
director? He should, more likely, be called the curator or producer, as he does
not really have anything to do with the content, other than grouping them into
sections with titles, and digitally replacing decent music with a terrible one.
I’m sure it’s a lot of work, but calling it “directing” is a misnomer. He does
more actual directorial work on his next film, Sid!, of which a really nice 20-minute preview is given on this
DVD.
Switching
gears a bit (okay, a lot), I was paying attention to what Lydon was saying
through the years, and came to realize that he was a Media Ecologist.
Whether he’s read it or not, he aligns well with the likes of Neil Postman,
Harold Innis and Daniel Boorstein, discussing how mass media such as news organizations
are interested in a pre-set bias and agenda, and focus on made up, or non-events
(Boorstein calls them “pseudo-events). He constantly posits about how the media
is rubbish, the focus of their stories are more on sensationalism than reality,
and that the questions they ask are meaningless other than to be “shocking” (or
what he calls boring). Of course, I’ve always seen him being grumpy at
reporters, especially when he’s heard the same question over and over (e.g.,
“how are you guys getting along?”), but I really listened to what he was saying. Much like Bobcat
Goldthwait, there is more beneath the demeanour that just acting out. He’s actually
saying something important; something that is becoming more so all the time as
the Tea Party tries to steal the United States and set up a theocracy through
lies and distraction.
Now, Lydon
keeps saying that the rest of the band is into the reunions for the money, but
not him. Honestly, I don’t know how true that is, but it really is irrelevant,
isn’t it? I mean, the whole group
kind of took the wind out of that sail by calling their rejoining “The Filthy
Lucre Tour.” But that doesn’t stop the questions. This only feeds Lydon’s
fervor and avering about the true focus and bias of mass media.
A quick
couple of comments and then we’re outta here. First, it drives me crazy when
news reports state that the Pistols “started punk rock.” Well, they don’t call
it the British scene “second wave punk” for nothing. By the time the Pistols
formed, the New York scene had been going on for two years, with hundreds of
bands. Yes, however, they did transform it into something else, as did the
“third wave,” hardcore, shortly after the Pistols broke up. Second, the bias
against the Pistols is shown clearly by the often reference of “Sid killed his
girlfriend Nancy,” especially in the British press. This has never been proven,
and there are enough contradictory stories to this line of thought to put forward
serious doubt. Personally, I believe she was stabbed by a drug dealer that she
refused sex while Sid was passed out from “sampling.” My theory is no less
credible than theirs, and is actually based more on people who knew them than
the press or police reports.
On a
positive note, one of the most touching moments is Lydon discussing the death
of Joe Strummer. Through the years there has been the hint of animosity between
them, but Lydon clearly sets that straight.
As a
collective historical document, this is an interesting-to-say-the-least
release, and possibly an important one to have all of this info at hand in one
place. That being said, there are substantial problems with it, and I have
avered above. If you’re a Pistols fan, it’s good to have all these clips in one
spot.
Sandwiched
between the Phillip Glass and Rosy Parker period in the early-mid ‘80s and
Zooey Dashenall of the modern era, singer-songwriter Suzanne Vega was known as
what would probably be called today “Williamsburg cool.”
She
definitely had “a look” that was as immediately identifiable as Patti Smith’s
white shirt and half-opened tie. For Vega it was a long-tail jacket over a
plain uncollared-shirt, straight shoulder length hair (sometimes tied in a
mini-ponytail) and bangs, pokey ears that held the hair out of her eyes, and
those cheekbones and killer dimples. She also has a voice that is idiosyncratic
and immediately identifiable. She is everything that Liz Phair was hyped to be
that never materialized.
Back
in the day, she would perform often around New York City, in hipper, intimate
showcases, as well as some of the mid-sized venues, like actors who play in
mainstream films to pay for their theater projects. Everything about Vega said
cool. If she was born in another era, she probably would have been the darling
of the Beat poetry set or the flappers.
Thanks
to MTV, she rose above the “in-the-know” crowd and had some major hits on her
hands, such as “Luka” and “Tom’s Diner.” That gave her the leverage to do what
she wanted.
As
someone who tours often, she played at the Rome Auditorium in 2003, sharing the
stage with electric bassist Mike Visceglia and Italian singer-songwriter Valerio
Piccolo. The gig, presented in its
entirety, shows Vega playing her acoustic, and between some songs, she reads
short poems that Piccolo translates into Italian.
He
also translates Vega’s song descriptions before she sings, and boy, she has not
lost a thing over time. She sounds as sharp as ever, and her pieces retain all
their punch. One of the themes of Vega’s output is minutitude. Okay, that isn’t
really a word, but it’s time it was coined. They are slices of life, but
looking at a small moment that effects a lifetime. It could be an event, and
emotion, a dream (of caramel and cinnamon), a computer game, almost anything. I
would posit it’s sort of a version of chaos theory, but done in a beautiful
form. She even describes her own life in this way, in her poem “Anti-Hero,” saying
that her voice (i.e., poetry) is a small one but deserves to be heard.
I
don’t know how fair this is, and is not meant as a negative but as a
descriptor, but I always thought of Vega as the “anti-Laurie Anderson,” or to
put it another way, where Anderson is digital, Vega is analog, her voice like a
warm blanket, or honey that coats her words as she projects them out to her
audience. As you wade through her songs, be it about first love or a
battlefield – or, yes, child abuse – she makes you feel like you have wind in
your hair and you are floating just a little bit above your seat. Sometimes the
contrast between this and the song subjects are more counterpoint than with the
grain, which makes them stand out all the more.“Left of Center” probably says this about her life better than I could, being
it’s in her own words, as she puts down her guitar and is backed strongly by
the bass.
Along
with new songs, such as “Solitaire,” she also does “Gypsy” and, after an
audience request, “The Queen and the Soldier.” She seems very comfortable on
stage as she goes though the numbers, acknowledging both Piccolo and Visceglia,
sometimes checking to see if they are keeping up. Yes, she does her two biggest
hits at the end, and while they sound great, I’m sure there will be those who
just want to hear them due to familiarity, but I strongly recommend sitting
down, and paying attention, as it will be worth your while. Here, I actually
prefer this version of “Tom’s Diner,” which is a cappella, with handclaps and
whistles as accompaniment. I always though her voice and message became lost in
all the stuff going on behind her on the record, for which she deserves better.
There
is an interesting 12-minute interview of her by Piccolo in the extras, basically
stating she would probably not be comfortable with the beginning of this
review, as she does not like people discussing the way she looks. That being
said, her appearance is so iconic,
one is hard pressed to do otherwise. There are a number of topics covered, and
the interview flies by as she talks about her music, her poetry, and her perspective.
There is also a repetitive slideshow that lasts less than 4 minutes over the “Tom’s
Diner” hit rather than the live one here.
Whether
you prefer to describe her as folk, modern folk, singer-songwriter, or hipster
goddess, it’s all good. Her messages are worth hearing, and she presents them
in a manner that is pleasing to the ear (and, sorry Suzanne, the eye). Get your
“doo-do-do-do” on and give a listen.
Song list:
Marlene on a High How to Make a Poem (poem) Small Blue Thing Caramel Italy in Spring (poem) Some Journey Penitent When Heroes Go Down Anti-Hero (poem) Gypsy Left of Center Solitaire The Queen and the Soldier In Liverpool (poem) In Liverpool Luka Tom’s Diner
For this “All Access Edition,” the Hard Core Logo film has been joined with its sequel onto a single blu-ray disk. Not
having a blu-ray player, it took me a while to get to these, but thanks to my
friend Wilf, as they say in the Canadian prairies, I was able to “get ‘er
done.”
It’s been well over 10 years since I’ve seen this film, and
I had forgotten how brilliant it is. Yeah, I’m showing my hand at the
beginning.
For those who have not seen it, and you really must without
seeing too many clips and ruin it, I guarantee you will be impressed on so many
levels. This is a fake documentary (not a “mockumentary” because it does not
make fun of these characters, it explores them) about a Vancouver hardcore band
called, well, Hard Core Logo. They’re on tour heading through the Rockies to
play Calgary, Regina, Winnipeg, Saskatoon, and finally Edmonton. Like Henry
Rollins’ book Get in the Van: On the Road
with Black Flag (1994), or Joey “Shithead” Keithley’s I,
Shithead: A Life in Punk (2003), the film explores their lives playing and
traveling on the tour.
There is a lot of
tension within this group, who had broken up and have reformed just for this
tour of duty. They all have their own issues (anger, hope, drugs and
schizophrenia [aka lack of drugs]),
and we get to know each one intimately, and even with their fucked up personality
tics, we care about them, as they are framed in director Bruce McDonald’s
vision, who plays himself as the director of this meta feature.
The acting is simply superb from beginning to end. There is
no wondering if this band is real, like in Josie
and the Pussycats, these guys bring it. The main focus of the story is on
the lead singer/guitarist Joe Dick, a rough and tumble punker with a Mohawk,
played by Hugh Dilon, nearly unrecognizable in his later and award winning role
as the bald cop on the television series, Flashpoint.It’s not surprising he brings such reality to
the role as he actually fronted a hardcore band called the Headstones, who
released six albums. Making Dick fearsome and also adding some pathos is worth
applauding.
Dick started the band with lead guitarist Billy Tallent,
engagingly played by Callum Keith Rennie, who would go on to many, many
credits, including regular stints in Battlestar
Gallactica and Californication.
The love and tension felt between these two is palpable, and they keep dancing
between keeping the band going and disbanding again.
John Pyper-Furgeson is soulful as the twitchy and poet
bassist, John Oxenberger (the only one without a nom de band), and Bernie Coulson plays Pipefitter, a drummer so in
Keith Moon territory that he no longer remembers his real name. Both of these
characters are on the edge in different ways for opposite reasons, but they are
given life by these two actors so that they are not support roles, but rather
presented equally by McDonald.
One of my favorite characters is Dick’s mentor, Bucky Haight
(get it?), chilling presented by Julian Richings. With all the strong characters
in this film, Richings’ unusual looks and sheer strength makes him stand out
even among a cast of this caliber.
How good is everyone in this film? All one needs to do is check
out the sheer girth of the actor’s credits, which in itself speaks in volumes.
Sure it’s a nearly all boys film (other than a groupie with a possible secret
past and a couple of girlfriends who barely last a scene), but… punk rawk!!
Sorry, I panicked.
I didn’t get a chance to see the extras, unfortunately, but
they include a commentary track by McDonald, music video and an obscure
trailer. I couldn’t really tell the difference between blu-ray and – er –
regular ray, but that should not stop you for a second from choosing to see
this.
From beginning to shocking end, this is a beautiful film,
easily one of the best rock’n’roll fiction films to date (though there are some
real musicians, such as Joey Ramone, and bands, such as D.O.A., in the film as themselves).
Even if you’re not into hardcore, this is a fascinating study of a band of,
well, not exactly brothers. And yes, that is a cover of the Dead Boys' "Sonic Reducer" at the end of the trailer.
Whatever wonders director Bruce McDonald picked up from
making Hard Core Logo, apparently
somewhere in the 15 years between that and this sequel, he apparently has if
not lost it, then certainly had it misplaced.
Actually, it might have been traded for his ego. You see,
even though this supposed documentary is about an actual band from Toronto called
Die Mannequin, fronted by Caroline “Care Failure” Kawa, who play themselves
within the framework of the film, they don’t seem to be in it much. The fiction
part is that Failure believes herself to be possessed by the spirit of Joe
Dick.
For the film, McDonald joins up with fictional filmmaker and
Wiccan nut Liz Moore (Shannon Jardine) and heads out to film Die Mannequin as
they record an album at Manitou Beach, Saskatchewan (at a town called Watrous),
a place I’ve been to a few times. We see the hot springs (a truly wonderful, if
sulfuric smelling and tasting place), and the infamous Dancehall, where most of
the “action” takes place.
The key problem is that whereas with the previous release,
we get to know and care about each of the four members of the band Hard Core
Logo, now the key character of the film is McDonald himself, and personally, I
couldn’t care less about him.This
premise was handled better in the true documentary, It’s About You (2010), where filmmaker Kurt Marcus becomes the
locus of his following a super rock star, thankfully making it more interesting
than its subject, the overrated John Mellencamp.I was more interested in Die Mannequin than
the person behind – and too often in front of – the camera in this case.
Even though the members of Die Mannequin are its actual musicians,
we learn almost nothing about them, including its supposed center and front
person, Care Bea…I mean Failure. As the (lack of) action happens, we hear
McDonald’s narrative and it ignores what the film is supposed to be about. There was a level of excitement and danger in
the first film, but here we get to see the drummer get annoyed because he has
to go get Care out of her rented cabin. Ooooooo.
More attention is paid to Anthony “Useless” Bleed, the (real) bassist who, in
the story here, has left the band, than to the other “current” members. There
is a shot of him in a kitchen of what is hinted to be Saskatoon’s infamous
Amigos Cantina (where I saw D.O.A. play a couple of years ago), though none of
the film is actually shot in that city. None of this is the fault of Die Mannequin, but rests squarely on the shoulders of the ego-burdened director.
Oh, as a sidebar, why would the band
fly into Regina and drive two-and-a-half hours up to Watrous, when they could
have flown into Saskatoon, which is only 45 minutes away, especially in the
dead of winter?
Another annoying element of the film is its heightened
religious undertone, though not for or against. You have the aforementioned
Wiccans, a Christian television show that McDonald directs (with a nod to Gary
Glitter), Bleed wearing a tee-shirt for a non-defunct Canadian Christian-based
puppet show, and Failure is always wearing numerous crosses (which she
apparently does in real life, as well). This all was a major distraction to the
story, what ridiculously little there was of it.
There was little of the amazing camerawork and editing of
the first film, no tension whatsoever, and such a total misdirection, that even
the only resurrection from the previous release, other than McDonald and
interspersed clips, Julian Richings as Bucky Haight, is lost and wasted. As we
watched it, we kept waiting for something-anything to happen. To give you an
example of the lack of imagination present, the last shot of Failure and Bleed
is of them leaning against a large dumpster that is almost identical to the
iconic shot from the film Sid and Nancy
(1986). The entire ending of this film is a groaner and cop-out.
At the end of the credits for the film, there is a notice
about how the film was funded by the province of Saskatchewan film board. The
current premier of the province has cancelled this, coarsely constricting any
future large-scale film industry. Reminding me of that got me more agitated than
the entire rest of the 100 minutes that had just passed..
After watching the original Hard Core Logo, I can understand why someone would want to see the
supposed sequel, but I have to say, it won’t be worth it. Also, I will not put
up the trailer for this film because it has too many spoilers in it for both
films. Even that was a failure. Instead, I will put up a clip of Die Mannequin,
which is not related this film at all.
Bronies: The Extremely Unexpected Adult
Fans of My Little Pony Directed by Laurent Malaquais 87 minutes, 2013 www.broniedoc.com www.mvdvisual.com
You
know, we live in pretty amazing times. I remember going to the first ever Star Trek convention at the Hotel Pennsylvania
in New York, back in the early 1970s. I’ve been to comic cons, rock cons, and
horror cons. I’ve always been amazed at the dedication of fans for a particular
topic.
As
time has passed, the subject of cons has become more focused, including anime,
porn (yep, the AVN in Las Vegas, and no, I’ve never been), and I have a cousin
and aunt who used to go from Edmonton to New York to attend a con for a soap
opera.
These
kinds of cons are similar to trade shows and in some ways use them as a model.
There are products to be tested and bought, meet with people in the same industry
(or same interest), and make some backroom deals (I’ve saw an interesting mass buy
of bootlegs in years gone by in the rooms, though for the life of me I can’t
remember who was involved 30 years later). The difference is there is a larger
element of talent. For example, at a plumbing show, they may hire a Kardashian to
get the guys sweaty, but for a con, it’s more artistic and people who are
actually associated in some aspect with product (for example, at a Beatles con,
I saw a presentation by their limo driver, Alf Bicknell).
One
socially interesting aspect of these cons I find is that most of the ones I’ve
been to started out as mostly male fan boys, and as time went on, more and more
women joined in (with the exception of the Beatles and Monkees cons run by Charles
F. Rosenay!!![sic] in
Connecticut, which has always been pretty
even). Sort of like how Penny is starting to quote Star Trek more on Big Bang
Theory.
A
more recent fixation that has laser focused into the form of conference loci is
a show meant for the demographics of young girls, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. However, the die-hard fans of
this show seem to be male, ranging from teens to full grown adults. And that is
the focus of the film.
Right
off the bat, the director, Laurent Malaquais, wisely addresses the core issues by
presenting visual soundbites of people being interviewed who are not fans of the show, stating how if men
like the series, they must be pedophiles, gay, or mentally ill.
It
is on this question that we are introduced to a collection of Bronies (that’s a
mixture of Bro and ponies, so it’s pronounced broh-nies not brown-nees) from all over the world, including the US (Maine and
North Carolina), Germany, Holland and even Israel. We meet these guys (and in
one case a girlfriend equally devoted to the show) and their families, who
occasionally struggle to understand just what is the male fascination of a
tween girl show.
It
is interesting to see how these guys are outsiders who have found a single
thing to be fascinated by that is just outside the accepted norm (remember when
punk was like that before the jocks joined?). The most noteworthy to me is the
gender blending. A question that is raised in the film at nearly the half-way
point, which is the most germane to me, is that wonder of what it is about
males enjoying a female show that other members of society find so scary; would
it be the same if a girl would be fascinated by, say, GI Joe?
As
for the female fans? This, too, is addressed in the documentary, in My Little Pony adapted cartoon form,
stating that even though ‘bro” is used at the beginning of the term brony, it
also applies to female fans, as well, and is not proprietary. Good to know.
Personally,
I find the whole idea of this level of this type of obsession interesting. I
mean, I have my own, which are varied (just look though this blog), but even my
devotions pale in comparison. There are, of course, unhealthy fixations when something
becomes too much of power thing (jingoism, some religious zeal, some sports fanaticism,
the occasional star fandom), and then there are healthier ones that become
outlets. In the case of the Bronies, their focus – at least the people in this
documentary – is the same as the show: friendship can conquer anything,
positive triumphs over the negative, and
the like. For some who are lonely, or are in need of something in their lives,
this positive message is important, no matter where it comes from, and if it’s
accompanied by music (remember the psalms?), it can go a longer way. When you
are feeling like a misfit, a kinship is also an opiate of the masses. This can
also work in other ways within culture, such as music.
The
star of this documentary, and yes it does have one, is John De Lancie. You
know, the guy who played Q on Star Trek:
The Next Generation. Apparently, as a once forgotten gig, he voiced Discord,
the “evil” character that is defeated by the positive energy of the ponies.
Since then, he has been embraced by the Bronies (One of us! One of us!) and has taken the role as a symbol of the
movement, helping to mentor the younger ones. Here, he comforts a conservative
dad to help him see that being a Brony doesn’t mean his 16 year old son is not
a man.
Most
of the other voice actors are interviewed individually, but the main focus is
on Lauren Faust, who created the show, and Tara Strong (landsman!), the Canadian
who voices the central character. They swirl around the Bronies at the New York
Brony Con, lighting up faces along with Lancie, who really seems to be enjoying
himself. He even voices the animated wraparound musical pieces of this film.
But
the New York con is not the only one we take a boo on. There’s also one in
Manchester, and another in Stuttgart. The theme to all of them is peace,
harmony, being good to one another. And buying plushies and posters.
The
third act of the documentary is also about focusing outward, as well as in. We
see how one of the aims of the cons is to raise money for charities, and to
promote original art and music (with a Ponies
theme). The viewer meets musicians, laser artists, and some with the talent to
draw the Ponies in ways that make
others very, very happy. People dance, they jump, they fist bump and hug, and
mostly they let everyone be themselves, including the 60 or so Bronies from the
US Armed Forces. In other words, everything Robert Bly was trying to accomplish
in the 1980s.
The
two extras are interviews with voice talents and an overview of the BUCK con in
the U.K. (6 min.) and the Galacon in Germany (10 min.) Both are well paced and
varied enough to keep it going.
While
it may be a bit of a head scratcher as to why, especially
as I am not a Brony myself (is there a My
Little Ramonie?), this is definitely a feel good film from beginning to
end. Yes, it could have been a bit shorter, but love is all around, and
watching this may make you 20% cooler.
My apologies for the delay in new reviews, etc. My hard drive crashed and I am in the process of getting the recovered. And, may I say sincerely, siiiiiiigh.
Currently living in Saskatoon (email at RBF55@msn.com for address). From 1977-88, I used to publish a print version of a music magazine in New York called FFanzeen, which dealt with the wide-ranging independent music scene. I also photographed many bands from the period (and since). Now I write this blog. And the beat goes on.
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