For years, whenever I’d look through someone’s list of bootlegs, they always had this movie listed. I always wondered why and then I watched this movie.
Rockbitch used to be called Red Abyss and was, like most magic-based things in the UK, part of a matriarchal, polygamous pagan community. The band was called Cat Genetica before that and was started by bassist Amanda Smith-Skinner (“the Bitch”) and guitarist Tony Skinner (“the Beast”).
Somehow along the way, their music got heavier and they decided to start getting nude on stage, then pretty much putting on live BDSM sex shows while performing. Think The Genitorturers in the U.S., because they were also obsessed with female genital mutilation, eating disorders, body dysmorphia and menstruation.
After a notorious series of concerts, TVAmsterdam arranged a concert in Zaandam, recording the experience and adding extra footage to create this documentary. Rockbitch is an acquired taste musically, but if you like NWOBHM-style bands, you’ll probably like them. You may have some difficulty getting past their constant nudity, whipping and on-stage oral sex, but they subscribed to a feminist ideal that stated that women had just as much a right to own their sexuality and make a rock show out of it as the guys did.
While the band never broke any laws in the areas where they performed and often tried to only do private shows, they ceased performing live in 2002.
Amanda and Jo from this band went on to form Syren, who supported Hawkwind on some tours. Julie, the lead singer, still performs under the name Krow, with the majority of her output being “noise terror punk.”
Rockbitch comes off like a more serious, more overtly sexualized Cradle of Filth, but one who also had a message of empowerment at their core, not just titillation. In 2017, a Swedish documentary on witchcraft and its feminist connections became the first to ever get to go inside the still-active Rockbitch commune and their pagan roots.
While most of their audiences may have come to get turned on, I love the audacious in-your-face nature of the band. Rock and roll was once, well, something. And it was dangerous, too.
Jeff Krulik’s films — Mr. Blassie Goes to Washington, Led Zeppelin Played Here, Ernest Borgnine On the Bus — show a deep love and fear, often at the same time, for pop culture.
The film itself is simple: a group of young metal fans get inordinately wasted while waiting to get in to a Judas Priest/Dokken concert at the Capital Centre in Landover, Maryland on May 31, 1986. Everything captured is real and that’s what makes it pure magic.
This film was a VHS bootleg fave for years until music rights issues were cleared up. Since then, follow-ups and sequels — Heavy MetalPicnic and Neil Diamond Parking Lot — have been made. But the fact that you can easily find this movie now does not dilute its magical power. The sad truth is that probably all of these kids, including the ones who wanted to have rough sex with Glenn Tipton, have all grown up and are afraid of the next wave of music that came in its wake, as well as still out partying without masks or social distancing.
I will say, a youth of metal shows proves to me that none of this is fake. I lived this life. I had a girlfriend who tried to bring a pound of weed inside a glass jar inside a show once. I burned my feet because Three Rivers Stadium’s field was so hot during Monsters of Rock — yes, Rokken with Dokken. And while I’ve never been so drunk that I don’t remember a show, I used to have a roommate that would routinely piss his pants instead of leaving the front row.
Upon the advent of the DVD format into the VHS-driven (Betamax lost that analog throwdown) market, the rock ‘n’ roll documentary market became flooded with one smug and pretentious, paint-by-the-numbers vanity ego-doc unfurling at a mind-numbing pace with unrelatable and emotionless subjects spewing historically-skewed “facts” that were in desperate need of an editor: insert a brevity-lacking, babbling head here, a photo here, a backstage dust-up here, a performance clip here, etc., and so on. . . .
The end result: welcome to Walmart’s $5.00 electronics’ department cut-out barrels. Or be lost, swirling along the digital rims of TubiTV’s or Amazon Prime’s backwash.
That is not this movie.
Image of the 1991 reissue by Time Bomb Records courtesy of moosehorncorp/eBay
This is a movie that, if somehow Mike Ness and French filmmaker Jean Rouch, the father of cinèma vèritè (who was still alive and cinematically active at the time), became friends, Another State of Mind would have been the movie they made.
This debut effort by the writing-directing team of Adam Small (later the writer of Pauly Shore’s Son in Law and In the Army Now, Jamie Kennedy’s Malibu’s Most Wanted, Disney’s upcoming hidden camera experiment, Epic Offenders) and Peter Stuart (became a prolific TV documentarian) should be held in the same regard as American documentarian D.A Pennebaker*, who applied his truthful, vèritè eye to rock ‘n’ roll and gave us an inside look at the life of Bob Dylan in Don’t Look Back (1967). Small and Stuart should be as revered as the Maysles Brothers, who upped vèritè game with their chronicle of the Rolling Stones in Gimme Shelter (1970). If staunch independent filmmaker John Cassavetes filmed Faces (1968), his Academy Award nomination for Best Original Screenplay, not as a vèritè tale of a middle-aged couple’s disintegrating marriage, but of an indie-punk band’s disintegrating tour, it would be Another State of Mind: a tale that, although it’s classified as a documentary, has more of a three-act, dramatic-narrative arc (like the just released 2020 chronicle of the life of Suzi Quatro, Suzi Q).
Front image of the original 1984 VHS issues by Magnum Entertainment courtesy of Jim Idol/Depop.com
If you, like myself and everyone else of middle school and high school age at the time, were exposed to this — not via the poorly distributed Magnum VHS — through its mid-to-late ’80s multiple airings during the USA Network’s “Night Flight” weekend programming block (I watched it the first time and was hooked; the second time it ran, I taped it . . . segueing out of, of all things, the 1975 Dr. Who arc “Genesis of the Daleks,” courtesy of PBS), you know the story: a tale of how the good intentions of a group of friends disintegrates against life’s harsh realities of their career choices as musicians.
It all began when Small and Stuart became involved with The Better Youth Organization of Los Angeles, a family-operated record label (aka BYO Records) by the brothers Stern: Shawn and Mark of the band Youth Brigade**. Tired with the now poignant issues of police brutality (against youths) and the negative views by local city governments toward punk music and the scene (explored in the 2020 documentary Desolation Center starring ’90s alt-bands Sonic Youth and Firehose), the Stern’s decided to fight back: not with brawn, but brains.
The Better Youth Organization logo/courtesy of BYO Records
So the Stern’s decided to join forces with their friend, Mike Ness, who fronted his own band, L.A.’s Social Distortion**, on a cross-county tour of the U.S and Canada — along the way, they meet up with their friend, Ian MacKaye, who fronted his own band in D.C., Minor Threat** — to promote punk music and the burgeoning “alternative” youth culture in a positive light: to prove that not all “punks” are criminals; that they are caring, articulate, and responsible for the world around them.
The six week, ten thousand mile tour from Los Angeles, up through Calary, Canada, and into D.C., among the 11 friends comprised of bands members and roadies, quickly falls apart amid clashing egos, overbearing political pontificating, cancelled shows, and a broken down and unrepairable old school bus that leads to poverty and hunger. Not only did the tour destroy the friendship between Ness and the Stern’s: Mike’s band broke up and left him stranded in D.C. Everyone returns to Los Angeles with bruised egos and hard feelings, victimized by the very unity they wanted to promote to the world.
Back image of the original 1984 VHS issue by Magnum Entertainment courtesy of Jim Idol/Depop.com
As pointed out in my recent review of Liam Firmager’s perfectly brilliant Suzi Q: Adam Small and Peter Stuart eschew the predictable “talking head” pedestrian cookie cutters that slice away at so many doughy rock docs. They chose to tell a story that, while a “document” per se, it unfolds as a musical biographical drama. However, unlike other rock bioflicks, (the popular The Doors, Ray, and Walk the Line, along with emotionless-mimic Bohemian Rhapsody and the overly arty-pretentious Rocketman), Another State of Mind is a real story: one of no sugar-coated filtering to sweeten their subjects; one of no compression or compositing of characters or fabrication of pseudo-events for “dramatic effect” to present their subjects in a positive light. Rock stars aren’t the “superhero” savors of humanity: that’s the commercialized-attitude that crushed Cobain’s soul. Musicians are mortal human beings with hopes and dreams, success and regrets, joys and pain.
And that’s how you a make what many have said, is the “greatest rock ‘n’ roll documentary every made.”
Only it’s not a documentary. It’s one of the greatest rock ‘n’ roll dramas ever made — Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocketman be damned.
Where to watch: Say what? No official online streams? Not even on TubiTV? Bogus! This should be streaming alongside Surburia, which they carry. Not even on You Tube Movies alongside The Decline of Western Civilization, X: The Unheard Music, Ladies and Gentleman: The Fabulous Stains, and Breaking Glass (all USA Network “Night Flight” also rans)?
Eh, no worries! We found three clean (free) rips direct from the uncut VHS (not from the edited USA “Night Flight” broadcast) on You Tube to choose from HERE, HERE, and HERE (caution: mild, brief female nudity courtesy of the gorgeous, sandwich shop-working death rocker, Valerie). But if you want the nostalgia of the “Night Flight” version, you can watch it HERE.
Caveat Emptor, ye ol’ tosser: While the 1984 Magnum Entertainment VHS clamshell version is available in the online marketplace, they’re ultra-rare and pricey. The 1991 cardboard-sleeved Time Bomb Records/Filmworks reissue version is more readily available and affordable. The 2004 U.S. DVD version by the Bicycle Music Company is easy to find and affordable. Euro-customers can pick up the Time Bomb/Epitaph and Kung Fu Europe versions (but know your regions and shipping fees).
Oh, and if you’re a VHS purist (like me) and eschew the DVD format whenever possible (I still rather watch my VHS-taped-from USA Network’s “Night Flight” version over my official VHS), you may want to yield to the DVD version: Mike Ness, the Youth Brigade’s Sean and Mark, along with Small and Stuart provide insightful commentaries.
And if you’re wondering: there’s no LP or CD soundtrack available (official or bootleg; one was never issued). But no worries, I re-created it on You Tube for you to enjoy.
Uh, oh. Here comes the asterisk non-sequiturs:
* Speaking of D.A Pennebaker: Since this is “Rock ‘n’ Roll Week” at B&S About Movies — and we can’t get to everything — be sure to check out his rock chronicles Eat the Document (1966; also with Bob Dylan), the iconic Monterey Pop (1968), and David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. There’s a reason why Pennebaker was granted an Academy Honorary Award Oscar in 2013. If you’re a rock dog: watch these movies.
** “These are real bands?” face-squinches Cindy, my then Aqua-Net poufed, non-punk versed girlfriend, her adorable ears awashed in the AOR spews of Loverboy, The Cars, and Quiet Riot. She actually thought Another State of Mind was all made up. . . . Which reminds of my ol’ stoned, college buddy, Steve. He thought This Is Spinal Tap was a real document on a real band: “No, dude. I’ve seen their records in the cut out bins. I definitely remember seeing Intravenus de Milo.” And his brilliant insight (laughing) when Nigel Tuffnel broke out the violin bow: “What a loser! Look! He’s trying to be Jimmy Page!” What can I say: weed, followed by a two servings cheesy-jalapeno nachos and Mr. Pibb chaser, don’t mix well with mockumentaries.
Yes, Cindy. There really is a Social Distortion, Youth Brigade, and Minor Threat. And Santa Claus. Chicks.
Oh, and Steve runs a roofing company these days. Don’t call on him to fix your roof . . . not unless you want Jeff Spicoli swingin’ hammers on your abode.
About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Thanks to Paul Andolina for being part of our music week. Paul writes often on our site, most often about Nicolas Cage and pro wrestling movies. Now, he’s back to talk about Heavy Trip, a heavy metal movie from Finland. To read more of his work, check out his sites Wrestling with Filmand Is the Dad Alive?
Leave it to the Finns to make one of the best movies about heavy metal that I’ve ever seen. Granted I haven’t seen a ton of films about heavy metal but I have been a metalhead for a long time. The store that I used to frequent and buy used metal cds no longer exists but this film certainly brought back the magic of discovering a new band.
Heavy Trip is about a group of guys who have a black metal band that mostly plays covers. They long for a gig but refuse to get one until they have written an original song. They play in a basement space below a reindeer slaughterhouse that is owned and operated by their guitarist Lotvonen’s dad. Rounding out the band is the ever shy Turo, the vocalist, Pasi, the living metal encyclopedia that is the bassist, and Jynnky, who has been dead twice, their drummer. After some failed original riff attempts, Lotvonen is inspired by a reindeer carcass caught in the processor, and the boys finally have their sound. They are really pleased with their song, Flooding Secretions.
They happen to have a chance encounter with Frank Massegrav, the promoter of Northern Damnation, a huge metal festival in Norway, when he comes to the slaughterhouse to buy blood. He is accidentally doused in the blood and pissed, storms off but not before Jynnky chases down his truck and hands him their demo. Turo goes on to tell the local florist, Miia, about meeting Frank, and says that he has a gig in Norway. Things get totally out of hand when news of this spreads across their small town. Suddenly the band is no longer ridiculed and is openly praised by all the residents. Things end up going tits up at a local gig when it is revealed they don’t actually have a gig in Norway.
This movie has some absolutely nutters scenes, including the band taking their promo shot by speed camera, a mental patient that turns violent when met by sudden movements who can only be calmed by metal, a fight with a wolverine, Turo puking on the town’s mayor while performing the first time in front of a live audience, and the entire third act of the film is bar none the greatest road trip segment put to film.
This movie is not only a great comedy but probably one of the funnest movies I’ve seen that involves metal in any capacity. I would highly encourage anyone who is a fan of metal to check it out. It’s irreverent, it’s heartfelt, and it is entirely metal. You can check it out on Amazon Prime.
“That’s part of the problem with being a kid actor. When your show’s over, nobody informs you that your career’s over, too.” — Luke Halpin, aka Sandy Ricks on TV’s Flipper (1964 – 1968)
To become a child actor; a kid star, to paraphrase British modernist poet David Jones: it is both a blessing and a curse.
And for every Leonardo DiCaprio, who got his start as a kid actor on TV’s Growing Pains, receiving the industry’s blessing to transition into adult roles, there’s a Dustin Diamond, from TV’s Saved by the Bell, who’s destined to experience a fateful, Longfellowian rain fall.
Courtesy of Made for TV Movie Fandom Wiki/You Tube trailer.
And in the case of Luke Halpin (Shock Waves), his successful ‘60s doppelganger would be Ron Howard who, as a kid actor, got his start as Opie Taylor on The Andy Griffith Show (1960 -1968). If only Luke Halpin had been noticed by George Lucas and cast in one of the most profitable films in history, American Graffiti (1973; we’re reviewed the sequel, More American Graffiti), or booked a part on ABC-TV’s Happy Days . . . damn the cackling Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, that trio of witches weaving the looms of fate.
And the witches saw fit to weave Roger Corman into Ron Howard’s tapestry. And the B-Movie King and the strawberry-mop topped sitcom star made a deal: If Howard would star in New World’s hicksploitation romp Eat My Dust (1975), he would give Howard the opportunity pursue his dream of directing a feature film, which became Grand Theft Auto (1977; its theatrical one-sheet appears in Cotton Candy as George and Brenda go on a date to a movie theater). Both films duplicated the insane box office of American Graffiti: Eat My Dust grossed $5 million against $300,000 and Howard’s directing debut grossed $15 million against $600,000.
So with three box office bonanzas and a hit TV series on his resume, NBC-TV wanted a piece of the Howard action. So they gave Ron an opportunity to direct his second film—his first TV movie (the others were 1980’s Skyward, 1981’s Through the Magic Pyramid, and 1983’s Little Shots)—for his newly formed Major H Productions with his father Rance and brother Clint (Ice Cream Man!!!). The idea that Ron and Clint came up with was Cotton Candy: a TV movie-length pilot for a weekly series concerning the rock ‘n’ romance adventures between the rival high school bands (starring 30-year-old teenagers, as is the case with all teen comedies of the ’70s) Cotton Candy (the underdogs) and Rapid Fire (the chick magnets) making the race for stardom in Dallas, Texas. (The high school in the film was called-out-by-name Lake Highlands High School.)
Tad Painter, Morgan Ferguson, actor Mark Wheeler, Mark Ridlen (also a Dallas radio jock), and John Painter, collectively known as Rapid Fire, aka Dallas local band Quad Pi, formerly known as Lithum X-Mas/image courtesy of Clint Howard via Robert Wilonsky and The Dallas Morning News.
For his leading man, Howard cast his old buddy Charles Martin Smith (Toad from American Graffiti; he later directed the “No False Metal” classic, Trick or Treat!!!). Smith is George Smalley: a geeky high school senior who’s dogged by his mother about dating and girls and a dad (Alvy “Hank Kimble” Moore from Green Acres . . . Ack! Stop right there. This is B&S About Movies, buddy! We remember Alvy from Smokey and the Hotwire Gang, The Witchmaker . . . and The Brotherhood of Satan!!) who wants him to stop wasting his time with the guitar (oh, do I relate). So to get chicks and get dad off his back, he joins the school’s football team, but is quickly cut from the squad.
No matter. George hated football and was only doing it to please dad. What he really wants to do is music. So when one of the guitarists of the school’s hottest band (they do all of the school’s dances, mall concerts, hot parties, and get paid gigs!), Rapid Fire, leaves the group as result of a family move, George decides to ask for an audition after a show. And Torbin Bequette (an excellently dickish Mark Wheeler; portrayed Neil Armstrong for Ron in Apollo 13), the band’s popular singer and big man on campus, humiliates George in front of everyone.
So, together with his best friend (ugh, not another clueless, talentless dork with no musical or legal skills “managing” a band, riding his talented friend’s coattails: this is Ricky from American Satan all over again), Corky MacPherson (Clint Howard), they resolve to form a rock band to perform George’s original tunes and take down Rapid Fire at the big “Battle of the Bands” (Oh, the “Battles” at the local skating rink and the city park’s outdoor stage of the ’70s and ’80s!) competition at the real life, Town East Mall (Oh, those teen years of living at the mall! Orange Julius and Spencer Gifts!!) in East Dallas. Together, George and Corky recruit a set of brothers who play keyboards and guitar, a former gang member on bass guitar (Manuel Padilla, Jr., aka Jai from ‘60s TV Tarzan), and a very cute female drummer (Leslie King, she of the 1979 Drive-In T&A classics Gas Pump Girls and The Great American Girl Robbery; as a screenwriter she penned 1988’s To Die For for Deran Sarafin, yes, he of Jean-Claude Van Damme’s Death Warrant!).
The out-of-print paperback tie-in/courtesy of Amazon (this was the best available image).
So, what about the music, you ask?
It is pure ’70s pop bubblegum. But Cotton Candy ain’t the Knack or Sweet. So instead of “Frustrated” or “Good Girls Don’t,” or “Fox on the Run” and “Love Is Like Oxygen,” we get a rocky-upbeat version of the safe n’ sweet sounds of the Carpenters (girl drummer, hatch), with the George Smalley originals “She Rolls,” “Born Rich,” and “Starship” (damn it: not uploaded to You Tube).
As for Rapid Fire’s catalog: And you thought the Sebastians (of Rocktober Blood fame) securing the right to Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May” and Ted Nugent’s “Sweet Sally” for their pirate radio romp On the Air Live with Captain Midnight (1979) was a rock ‘n’ boondoggle? How in the hell did Ron Howard get the rights to Bob Marley’s “I Shot the Sheriff” via Eric Clapton? How did he get the rights to Billy Preston’s (Hammond organist on the Beatles’ albums) “You are So Beautiful” via Joe Cocker?
Clearly, Cotton Candy, while a bunch of clueless dorks who decide playing strip poker with their female drummer is the mature thing to do, is the more talented band. Sure, Rapid Fire has the slick, silk windbreakers, smoldering good looks and feathered hair . . . and can afford snazzy, three-piece suits and fedoras, you know, to carry through that “gangster” theme to go along with that awesome “Tommy Gun” band logo.
“Rapid Fire’s got to reload . . . we’ll be back in five.”
But Torbin and the boys can’t write music; they can only can butcher jukebox-from-hell covers that ’70s sound-alike budget album distributor Pickwick International would reject for release.
Yeah, it’s all very “Pickwick International” with Rapid Fire. If you went on a Sunday “Swap Swap” excursion with the family at the local Drive-In, you know the label. I got burned by Pickwick’s version of Tommy (You Tube) thinking I was buying the Who’s rock opera. Well, that’s Torbin Bequette and Rapid Fire: all the girls, none of the talent, and it ain’t Clapton or Cocker.
Yeah, this is taking me back to those bag-o-dicks from Mad Sire in their silk band jackets and platform shoes and flared jeans churnin’ out their covers of Rick Derringer’s “Rock ‘n’ Roll Hoochie Coo” and Styx “Renegade” at the school dances . . . and taunting Hot Rats, the underdog Ramones-inspired stalwarts as “Hot Rats . . . more like cold crap,” as we ripped out the originals “Rock ‘n’ Roll Stereo Kids” and “Scene Queen” (which later became “Bitch Queen” as we, pathetically, went “metal”) to a garage audience of five fellow lost souls that were a lot like Sam, my boss at B&S About Movies.
Ack! Tagents and non-sequiturs! Back to the movie. . . .
Because Howard’s TV movie debut tanked in the ratings, and both Ron and Clint expressed embarrassment over the years regarding the project, Ron has publically stated the film will never, ever see (a hard or digital) release. And once Ron’s career took off with the likes of the theatrical features Night Shift, Splash, and Cocoon, he didn’t want anyone to remember Cotton Candy; when the ‘80s video boom hit and stores were hungry for product, the film was never released to VHS.
So how bad is it?
Well, in our review of It’s a Complex World, we spoke of how revered it is among the movers and shakers of Providence, Rhode Island, where it was filmed—ditto for Richmond, Virginia’s denizens who remember the making of the failed Rock N’ Roll Hotel. And the rock denizens of Dallas, rightfully, feel the same way about Cotton Candy. It’s all about nostalgia on this one. If you were in middle or high school in 1978 when Cotton Candy aired, you’ll love it. If you never seen it before and, compare it against Howard’s later works, such as Apollo 13 . . . let’s put it this way: it’s not as bad as Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (is any rock movie?), but the proceedings will not be as cool as Eddie and the Cruisers, and not as awesome as Rock Star with Mark Wahlberg (” . . . stand up and shooout!”). Those who love it (moi): we are loading up our TV-to-VHS-ripped copies of Cotton Candy alongside Ladies and Gentleman: The Fabulous Stains and the Dennis Hopper Elvis-Johnny Rotton punk-tale oddity that is Out of the Blue (we’ve got to review that one!).
Cotton Candy recently had an 40th anniversary screening at the Lake Highland Alamo Drafthouse outside of Dallas, put together by Mark Ridlen of the faux Rapid Fire. But do not let that fool you into thinking a DVD restoration is forthcoming. . . .
The bootlegged VHS-ripped-from-TV (regardless of the flashy slip cases) on this one are impossible to find. Cotton Candy has never been officially released on DVD (by Howard or NBC-TV’s corporate parent, Universal) and hasn’t re-aired on TV since the mid ’80s—so watch out for those grey market TV-to-VHS-to-DVD rips in the marketplace. Yes, there are 1985-dated foreign VHS tapes in the marketplace (an image of the Swedish version recently, post-this-review, posted on the IMDb), but it’s doubtful those are from the original negative. Well, perhaps a PPV or VOD stream, Ron? How about a with-ads stream on TubiTV? That’s unlikely. After Howard’s Imagine Entertainment was acquired by Disney, the negative to Cotton Candy has been buried in their vaults ever since. . . .
So the best we’ve got to enjoy Cotton Candy are ’70s UHF-TV rips uploaded to You Tube. And it seems Ron Howard doesn’t mind, since they’ve been there a while. You have three uploads to choose from HERE, HERE, and HERE. Sadly, the ending of the film sticks on all of them before we can see the songwriting credits behind Cotton Candy’s tunes. Ah, but there’s nothing like a B&S About Movies review obscurity (see Arctic Warriors) to inspire those IMDb page updates. Courtesy of those updates, we now know that Joe Renzetti wrote those nifty Cotton Candy tunes with Charles Martin Smith. The Philadelphia-born Renzetti got his start as a film composer and soundtrack consultant alongside Smith in The Buddy Holly Story, teaching Smith and the rest of the cast to sing and play their instruments—live on camera—the first for a theatrical film. Another of Renzetti’s film gigs was instructing Kurt Russell as “The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll” on John Carpenter’s 1979 TV movie, Elvis.
* Our thanks to Advocate Mag and The Dallas News for preserving this beloved rock flick obscurity with interesting trivia bits in the preparation of this review.
About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook.He also writes for B&S About Movies.
As stated in our previous review of Cha Cha starring Herman Brood, Nina Hagen, and Lene Lovich, your enjoyment of this (admittedly) pretentious “art house” flick hinges on your appreciation of the music of Ian Dury (which, I’ll admit, is an acquired taste for U.S ears raised on the commercial, new wave refrains of America’s the Knack and the Cars and the U.K.’s the Police and Gary Numan), the world’s first disabled “rock star.”
If you were lucky enough to have a college radio station in your area or frequented the then trendy, big city new wave clubs of the times, then you’re probably familiar with Ian Dury’s most memorable album hits of “Sweet Gene Vincent” and “Billericay Dickie,” but you’ve surely heard his hit singles “Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick” and “Reasons to Be Cheerful, Part 3” with the Blockheads in a TV series, film, or video game in recent years. The title of this bioflick is, of course, derived from Dury’s biggest selling and most memorable single, 1977’s “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll.” And while MTV ignored Dury’s catalog, the burgeoning video channel embraced the music of ex-Blockheads Chaz Jankel and turned his single “Questionnaire” into a minor U.S radio hit (watch the MTV video link, you’ll remember it).
So, in regards to the “art house” aspects of the film: Don’t go into this expecting a fluid, commercialized Tinsteltown chronicle on Dury’s life, ala Ray (Ray Charles), Walk the Line (Johnny Cash), or What’s Love Got to Do With It (Tina Turner). In lieu of a traditional, chronological narrative (that’s punctuated with animated segments and kinetic editing typical of an arty, indie film), Dury (a fantastic Andy Serkis — who you know as Gollum in the Lord of the Rings trilogy and as Ceasar in the Planet of the Apes reboot series) appears as a colorful, brash carnival barker, telling his own life story from the concert stage via a series of flashback (e.g., his wife gives birth to his child upstairs, while he’s telling his story on a club stage; of how, as a child, he contracted polio from a swimming pool and was bullied for his leg brace; of how he met Jankel backstage at Kilburn and the High Roads (Dury’s band prior to forming the Blockheads with Jankel) gig, etc.).
Dury would go on to become an actor in his own right, with roles with in several British films and television series. Here, in the U.S., you’ve most likely seen Dury in Bob Dylan’s 1987 box office bust Hearts of Fire (hopefully, we’ll get to that one for “Rock ‘n’ Roll Week”), The Cook, the Theif, His Wife & Her Lover (I dragged my date to see that one at an art house theatre because of Dury; she hated it, but of course), but you definitely saw Dury in the sci-fi flicks Split Second with Rutger Hauer (1992), Judge Dredd (1995), and The Crow: City of Angels (1996).
You can watch Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll as a free-with-ads-stream on TubiTv; if you’d prefer an ad-free experience, it’s available on You Tube Movies. You can also get all of the music of Ian Dury you could possibly need — featuring album tracks, videos, and live performances — over on his official You Tube page. You can also catch Dury at the top of his game with his 1978 appearance on the live German television rock program Rockpalast (aka “Rock Palace,” a Euro-version of U.S TV’s The Midnight Special), also on You Tube.
About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S Movies.
Penelope Spheeris went back one more time to Los Angeles’ music scene and it changed her life. But for years, she didn’t want to ever revisit the three films that make up The Decline of Western Civilization.
According to The Verge, she wanted her daughter Anna Fox to take over the family business of making movies and managing their rental properties around the city. Fox agreed, on one condition: that her mom finally release a collection of the Decline trilogy. What followed was a year of pure hell, as she’d call it, and the last film proved problematic, as it is so depressing that it serves as a rough close to the otherwise joyous film series.
Using the money from Senseless, a movie that she hated making for the Weinsteins, she funded this movie all on her own. “When I did Decline III, it was totally life changing for me. I had no idea that shit was going on out there. At that point in my career I was really rich from being paid millions of dollars for doing studio movies, and I did not have a sense at all what real life was like. That’s when I went out and got my foster parent license. I had five foster kids to try to help a little bit — we all should, because it’s a fucking mess out there.”
Instead of focusing on bands as much — although Final Conflict, Litmus Green, Naked Aggression, and The Resistance perform and Keith Morris and Flea appear — this installment focuses more on the gutter punks who are roaming the streets of Los Angeles, lost and nearly all alone, save for one another.
This one isn’t as life affirming as the other films and while there are moments of humor, it is few and far between. That said, I still feel that this is an important watch and shows that across three different generations, problems may not have changed all that much, but hopelessness has only grown.
Editor’s Update: In October 2021, Dark Force Entertainment announced their Blu-ray reissue of this punk classic. Learn more with their Facebook announcement.
Your willingness to slog through this punk-inspired drama — that is admittedly artsy and boring, rife with a lack of narrative clarity, bad acting, and an overall production incoherency courtesy of its failed Fellini-esque noodling (Warhol’s a great artist, but considered terrible at filmmaking in most quarters) — hinges on your fandom of Richard Hell, the music of the Voidoids, and nostalgia for the ’70s New York East Village punk scene spearheaded by the Bowery-based club CBGB’s.
Or perhaps that willingness hinges on your tolerance for the serial killer-obsessed oeuvre of direct-to-video German horror schlockmeister Ulli Lommel (Tenderness of the Wolves, The Boogey Man, BrainWaves, The Devonsville Terror) and, for the film buffs, Lommel’s connections to the works of Russ Meyer and Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
But as a piece of cultural history for music buffs (especially of punk music), while amateurish in places, this Ulli Lommel and Andy Warhol co-production (they previous worked together on 1979’s Cocaine Cowboys; a tale about a rock band subsidizing their lifestyle via drug running) won’t disappoint. (Here’s Andy’s scene, on You Tube).
Now, before we get started . . .
Let’s clear up the fact that there are two films carrying the title of the influential Richard Hell and the Voidoids’ tune (that inspired the Sex Pistols to write “Pretty Vacant”). The First, prefixed with the definite article: we picked up as a VHS bootleg tape set inside a black hard-clamshell case with a Xerox’d cover on the shelf of our local indie punk record store (tucked between a Hallmark gift n’ card store and a falafel joint). The Second: most of us watched it for the first time during an early ’80s late night viewing on the USA Network’s Friday night “Night Flight”* music video programming block (alongside Hell’s other starring role in Susan Seidelman’s 1982 punk chronicle, Smithereens).
That first film, 1976’s The Blank Generation (again, carrying the grammatical article prefix), is a 16-mm black & white DIY documentary co-directed by Lydia Lunch and Patti Smith Group guitarist Ivan Kral and “No Wave” director Amos Poe (who went mainstream with 1984’s Alphabet City; starred Vincent Spano of Over the Edge, Matt Dillon’s first film). That film features grainy, live performances by Patti Smith, Blondie, Television, the Ramones, Talking Heads, the Heartbreakers, the Shirts (fronted by Annie Golden, later of Susan Seidelman’s 1985 Madonna-starring, Desperately Seeking Susan), Wayne County, and the Tuff Darts (featuring soon-gone original lead singer Robert Gordon) on the stage of CBGBs.
Original theatrical one-sheet **
The long since deleted ’80s VHS— copies are out there, if you want them, but run at $150.00
As for the narrative, dramatic version of the second film: Hell stars as Billy, an ascending musician and poet on New York’s local art scene that’s experiencing his first taste of fame across the pond; so Nada (Carole Bouquet, who starred as a “Bond Girl” in 1981’s For Your Eyes Only), a French filmmaker and journalist, comes to the States to interview him. Their journalist-subject relationship quickly progresses into a romantic triangle when Nada’s other lover, Hoffritz (Lommel), comes to New York to interview Andy Warhol (who cameos) — and Billy must choose between his career and love for Nada.
Uh, yeah. It’s a punk-tinged love story that’s more A Star is Born (1976; we reviewed the 2018 one) than a punk-rise-and-fall tale of the Breaking Glass variety. But what other film gives you the Voidoids (Robert Quine, Ivan Julian and Mark “Marky Ramone” Bell; later of Rock ‘n’ Roll High School) at the top of their game searing through “Liars Beware” and their punk anthems “Love Comes in Spurts” (featured in Christian Slater’s Pump Up the Volume) and “Blank Generation” from the stage of CBGBs?
None.
You can stream Blank Generation (1980) for the low, low price of $.99 on Amazon Prime Video, but guess what? We found a free stream over on You Tube, Midnight Pulp, and YuYu TV. As for The Blank Generation (1976): there’s no online streams or DVD reissues (official or grey market) in the online marketplace, but we found a free streaming copy on You Tube to enjoy. Uh, okay, that’s gone: try this one.
** B&S About Movies’ friend, Mike Delbusso, the proprietor of Michigan’s premiere rock art gallery, The Splatt Gallery, also talks about the film’s backstory and offers an alternate theatrical lobby card with this Facebook post. If you’re a fan of Detroit’s rocking past — or those ’60s and ’70s rocking days yore — spend some time with Mike amid the many wonderful posts at The Splatt Gallery, located in Walled Lake, Michigan.
About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S Movies.
Leave it to Australia — and experimental filmmaker Chris Löfvén — to transform Dorothy into a sixteen-year-old groupie who hits her head when traveling with a rock band. Now, she’s on the road to see the last show of androgynous rock god The Wizard, but a thug — she killed his brother — is chasing her.
The Scarecrow is now Blondie the stoned surfer (Bruce Spence, who was the chopper pilot in The Road Warrior), The Tin Man is a mechanic named Greaseball and The Cowardly Lion is a biker filled with self-hatred named Killer, based on Australian convict Mark Brandon Read, also known as Chopper, who had a movie made about his life in 2000.
While most of the bands on the soundtrack — Jo Jo Zep & The Falcons, Ross Wilson — may be unknown to American audiences, the concert that was used for the close of the film was really one for The Little River Band and AC/DC. In fact, their manager Ned Kelly played one of the bad guys named Truckie.
This film flopped in its native Australia but supposedly did pretty well here. I’d never heard of it, much less knew that a modern musical version of The Wizard of Oz was filmed two years before The Wiz.
George Armitage wrote Gas-s-s-s, Private Duty Nurses, Night Call Nurses and Vigilante Force before scoring mainstream success with Miami Blues and Grosse Point Blank. He told Film Comment, “I wrote Darktown Strutters in three days, and the script form is all one sentence, the entire script is one sentence.”
While he had wanted to direct this, William Witney ended up making it. Witney was a Hollywood vet, starting all the way back at Republic where he worked n movie serials. He worked a lot with Roy Rogers and at the end of his career, made a few movies with Gene Corman, including I Escaped from Devil’s Island and this movie.
This is less a narrative film and more a collection of hijinks as a gang of black bikers interacts with the police, all until Syreena starts to search for her missing mother, Cinderella. Turns out an evil barbecue chain — with an owner in full Klan regalia — has her.
Trina Parks from Beyond the Valley of the Dolls and Diamonds Are Forever is Syreena, backed up by a cast featuring former Ikette Edna Richardson, Roger E. Mosley (TC from Magnum, P.I.), Stan Shaw (Detective Sapir from The Monster Squad), Alvin Childress (Amos of the Amos ‘n Andy TV show), Zara Cully (Mother Jefferson!) and, this being a Corman family film, Dick Miller.
Get ready for a fairy tale mixed with blaxploitation, basically, with plenty of great tunes from The Dramatics as well as John Gary Williams and The Newcomers.
And remember: “Any similarity between this true life adventure and the story Cinderella … is bullshit.”
B&S About Movies 
You must be logged in to post a comment.