Imagine a film so plagued with legal and productions issues that even the pseudonymised Alan Smithee doesn’t want to take a credit—and it took almost 30 years before the film screened to a mass audience.

Such a film is Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel . . . yes, we know the hotel’s sign uses an ampersand, while film title uses the contraction . . . that’s just one of this film’s many problems.

And those problems began in the fall of October 1982 in Richmond, Virginia, at the once opulent Jefferson Hotel, a location where French director Louis Malle previously completed his 1981 independent comedy-drama My Dinner with Andre (which Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert gave “two thumbs up”). By the time Hollywood came a-callin’ in Richmond for its next film, the hotel fell into urban decay and became the home of transients.

But no one ever got a chance to give a thumb—up or down (but probably a lot of middle fingers)—for Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel. Well, they did . . . 27 years after the fact, in 2010. But more on that later. . . .

Executive Producers Howard and Francine Schuster, along with producers Peter Rodis and William Gilmore (who saw the film as a “tax-shelter” movie), and Stiff Records’ signee Rachel Sweet and her father/manager (who envisioned the film as her transition from music into film) rose about a $4 million for the project. None had produced a film prior—or since. And speaking of “taxes”: the reason Richmond was chosen over the also-scouted locations of Atlanta and Orlando was Virginia’s generous “tax incentive/tax break” program for film and television productions.

The film’s genesis was rooted in the 3-D craze sweeping cinemas in the early ‘80s with the likes of Amityville 3-D, Comin’ at Ya!, Jaws 3-D, and Friday the 13th 3-D,” and Treasure of the Four Crowns cleaning up at the box office. The Schusters, along with cinematographer and stereoscopic film expert John Rupkolvis, were behind the development of a new type of inexpensive 3-D filmmaking called Arrivision—and the Schusters wanted to make their own movie to showcase the new 3-D technology.

The director the Schusters chose for their “3-D rock ‘n’ roll teen horror musical”—a “director” who never directed a film before—was film composer and arranger Richard Baskin (Nashville, Welcome to L.A., Honeysuckle Rose), a Baskin-Robbins ice cream scion, Barbara Streisand’s then live-in boyfriend, and brother to Saturday Night Live writer Edie Baskin. Richard Baskin’s street cred as a songwriter and composer for films is what got him the job on this planned musical—actually a long-form MTV-style rock video. The set director, just starting out in the feature film business, was noted music video director Mary Lambert (the Go-Go’s, Madonna, Motley Crue, Janet Jackson), who became a film director in her own right (1989’s Stephen King’s Pet Cemetery). Also on the set as the film’s music consultant was Seth Justman, the longtime keyboardist and songwriter for the J.Geils Band.

Okay, so all of these people have skills. So far, so good. . . .

The script, described as “unfinished and unfocused” and “unyielding” over the years by those involved in the production, centered on the career of the Third Dimension, a young n’ sassy, new-wave rock trio fronted by Lisa, portrayed by Akron, Ohio, born and U.K.-transplanted singer Rachel Sweet, who issued European hit singles on the Stiff Records label (home to Elvis Costello and Nick Lowe). The faux band also featured Johnny, a leather-jacket clad guitar player portrayed by Judd Nelson in his feature film debut (two years away from his back-to-back breakthrough roles in The Breakfast Club and St. Elmo’s Fire), and Rick, a scarf-clad bassist portrayed by the big screen-debuting Matthew Penn, he the son of director Arthur Penn (Bonnie and Clyde, Alice’s Restaurant, Little Big Man). (These days, Matt is a prolific TV series director with over one hundred fifty credits.)

The cast was rounded out by older, fading actors brought in as fading classic ’50s rockers: comedian Dick Shawn (It’s a Mad, Mad World, The Producers), now ubiquitous character actor Joe Grifasi (Brewster’s Millions, Honky Tonk Freeway), and Broadway singer-actress Donna McKechnie (TV’s Dark Shadows), who replaced Stella Stevens (The Poseidon Adventure). Also starring was Bruce Springsteen’s E-Street Band saxophonist Clarence Clemons (himself a Chesapeake, Virginia native) as a motorcycle-riding disc jockey, along with MTV VJ Colin Quinn as a fast-pattering DJ.

The plot—such as it is—is your typical good vs. evil story centered around a rock ‘n’ roll battle of the bands contest held in the old, sinister “Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel.” Sweet’s new wave-inspired Third Dimension are, of course, the good guys; the washed-up ’50s rock-crooning the Weevils, fronted by Shawn and backed by the cougaresque McKenchnie and the piano-playing Grifasi, are determined to win the contest at any cost.

As you’ll can see from the two trailers and promotional video we’ve linked-up below (at the end of the review): everything is way out there—and not making a whole lot of sense, as continuity and narrative are out the window.

It seems the sinister, evil classic ’50s rockers, the Weevils (escaping from Brian De Palma’s Phantom of the Paradise), have perfected the skills of hypnotism, have control of three white-clad tempting Fates to lure men to their sexual demise (always on the make for Nelson and Penn), and have access to a time machine—which comes in handy when you need an inebriated Beethoven and stoned Jimi Hendrix to show up for few laughs; Frankenstein lumbers around the halls amid zombies; there’s a dancing chorus of haunted pants; an old, snoring corspe takes a nap in front of a television; there’s a wheel-chair bound, rat-faced talent agent; Shawn’s Weevil King of Evil sashays around in wares typical of King Ludwig II of Bavaria; Joe Grifasi cops n’ mocs Elton John’s wardrobe and stage antics. There’s sad trombone “Wah-Wah-Wah” fanfare-styled humor that would give T.L.P Swicegood (The Undertaker and his Pals) pause. There’s a ten-minute, song-and-dance car crusin’ number with Nelson and Penn shredding guitars as Sweet sings. There’s homages to Devo paired with Shawn crooning ’50s rockabilly tunes. Oh, and everyone is shoving things into the camera to play up the the “3-D” effects.

So, yes . . . the mise-en-scène kinetics of The Rocky Horror Picture Show is definitely a touchstone in the rock ‘n’ roll tomfoolery, as Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel wears its hopes as another Rock ‘n’ Roll High School on its sleeves. The more discerning rock flick connoisseurs will reference Allan Arkush’s Get Crazy (1983; his gonzo tribute to the closing of the Lower East Side New York rock club, the Fillmore East), Menahem Golan’s crazed, futurist rock tale, The Apple (1980), and the Weinstein’s Miramax debut release, the obscure Playing for Keeps (1983; which also deals with the shenanigans at a “rock ‘n’ roll” hotel). Then there’s the VHS aficionados who will go deeper with It’s a Complex World (1991), a nutty tribute (Elvis and Captain Lou Albano show up) to Providence, Rhode Island’s late rock club, Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel.

No way this is going to work. . . .

Almost immediately, Baskin, it’s been said, found himself in way over his head—and all hell broke loose over the script, shooting schedule, and budgets one week into shooting. And the production shut down for a week. Then Seth Justman—who was also new to feature film directing—took the director’s chair based on his heavily-rotated MTV videos for J.Geils’ “Love Stinks” and “Centerfold,” along with “Shake it Up” by the Cars. Of course, by this point, the screenplay, written by Russ Dvonch of Rock ‘n’ Roll High School fame (and worked in various capacities on Roger Corman’s Deathsport and Avalanche), was rewritten by an unknown writer-friend of Justman’s, Janice Shaprio (with no other credits to her name since).

Needless to say, the new director and script doctoring didn’t help.

The film disintegrated in a flurry of lawsuits, speculations and accusations. There were claims the original negatives were lost or stolen, lost in a lab accident, or it was because the film lab processing the negative went bankrupt. The ensuing lawsuits quickly bankrupted the Schusters—and they fled to Australia. Other rumors claim the film was cut up by Bob and Harvey Weinstein and spliced into Playing for Keeps (1986), their debut feature for Miramax Studios—which was another Matthew Penn-starring film (thus assuring some sense of continuity) that also served as the leading lady debut of Marisa Tomei. (The practice of cutting a failed, unfinished film into another also occurred with the Runaways feature film, We’re All Crazy Now, which ended up in the film duBeat-e-o.) And why was that assumed? Because the Weinstein’s film also centered on a trio of New York high schoolers who decide to turn an old, grand mansion into a “Rock n’ Roll Hotel” (a claim which has been reportedly disproven, at least according to the materials-research I’ve read).

In truth: The Sweet and Nelson-starring film finally appeared in a March 1983 issue of Variety—released under the auspices of another set of filmmaking relations: Menahem Golan (who just directed an equally wacked out rock flick, The Apple) and his cousin, Yoram Globus, for their Cannon Pictures. The press release stated they were set to debut the film at the Movie Lab on Santa Monica Boulevard in Los Angeles on March 9 and 10 at 3 p.m; and that it would have a New York showing at the Waverley Theater on Sixth Street during the weekend of March 11 and 12.

But alas, the showing weren’t a serious attempt to distribute the film, but simply to fulfill the terms of the project’s “tax shelter” agreement to investors that that film must appear in a major city over the course of a weekend (see Tom Sizemore’s Zyzzyx Road and Christian Slater’s Playback for examples; Roger Corman’s abortive 1994 version of The Fantastic Four also applies). At that point, Rachel Sweet and her father shanghaied the film and claimed they “finished it,” shooting new footage and shifting more of the film’s focus on Rachel—and that the film aired on HBO in the mid-eighties (a claim which the programmers of HBO deny).

Then, in February 2010, Craig Hodgetts, one of the set designers on the film working under Mary Lambert, discovered a raw VHS tape labeled “‘Rock and Roll Hotel,’ 83 min., 1986,” in a box of production sketches and photo stills from the film in the archives room of his architectural firm in Culver City, California. And that copy does, in fact, carry a “Richard Sweet Productions” title card. So, it seems, the Sweet’s claims that they finished the film and that it aired on HBO are true. And this is the version that has no director credit—not even Alan Smithee.

So what happened to the original 35mm “3-D Wondervision” version showing off all that great 3-D camera work? What happened to the print shown in Los Angeles and New York in 1983? Where’s the 1986 version?

Today, all that exists is the digitized, low-tech 2-D direct-from-VHS copy that occasional plays around the Richmond area in an art house-drafthouse environment and the occasional U.S film festival—the one found in a box in Hodgetts’s closet.

TRAILERS ‘n’ CLIPS: Yes, we have ’em! But you know those ‘ol HTML bugs and video sharing sites. Code breaks and “unofficial” uploads by fans — and not reissue shingles — are sometimes deleted. So, you can link-out to watch this trailer and promotional video on You Tube and another trailer on Vimeo.

MANY THANKS: To Dale Brumfield of Style Weekly Magazine, Cinedelphia Film Festival (as of 2021, the site is currently dead/festival no longer exists), and James River Film Journal for their efforts in preserving the memory of this truly lost rock ‘n’ roll film that assisted in preparing this review for our first “Rock ‘n’ Roll Week” at B&S About Movies.

MORE THANKS, 2022: Just when you think your review-writing was for naught, only to be lost somewhere, forgotten on a file server . . . someone discovers it, shares it on social media, and the subsequent readers reach out to express their enjoyment of the piece. So, thanks to those half-dozen or so that FB’d me (including two who worked on the film!) with their gratitude. Yeah, it is fun to reminisce with these films and chat them up with the fans and the crew. Your vibes keep me bangin’ at the keys! Turns out it is not as fruitless as it sometimes feels (my “Exploring 50 Grunge Films” piece received the same, positive social media responses).

MORE MOVIE LINKS: Oh, and since Rock ‘N’ Roll Hotel qualifies as a Box Office Failure—hey, everyone gave it their best, for sure—be sure to check out out recent, week long February tribute week to “Box Office Failures.” Do you need more faux rock band flicks? Sure you do! Then check out our “Ten Bands Made Up for Movies (and a whole lot more)” featurette.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

You’re Penelope Spheeris and you amazed the disenfranchised punk and metal hoards with your debut feature film: 1981’s epic punkumentary The Decline of Western Civilization. (Yes, we did DoWC II and DoWC III). Yeah, we know her most popular film—and the highest-grossing film of her career—is the rock-centric (and very cool) Wayne’s World. But that’s for the mainstream Queen and Alice Cooper fans. (Okay, so for two Halloweens I dressed up as Wayne: once recruiting my blonde sister, then my blonde girlfriend, as Garth.)

For guys like me and Sam (he bullied for wearing a Samhain t-shirt to school; me, The Clash), this dark tale of two Los Angeles brothers escaping their alcoholic mother and a runaway escaping her pedophile father that come find solace in the surrogate family formed by a band of punk-rock squatters, who end up battling the local rednecks for supremacy of an abandoned housing tract, is Penelope’s best known film.

. . . And if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, so says the Scottish proverb. And if VHS-repeat viewings (today, it’s DVDs and online streams) were dollars, Suburbia would be Penelope Spheeris’s highest-grossing film—so goes the B&S About Movies analog edict. That’s right, Wayne. Don’t let the door on Stan Mikita’s Donuts hit you in the arse on the way out . . . and party on.

The formula that makes Suburbia work is the same formula that makes Jonathan Kaplan’s juvenile delinquency rock fest Over the Edge (1979) work: Instead of casting the ubiquitous 30-year-actors as “teenagers” that is typical of a major studio, teen-centric flick (outside of two newbie-trained actors, OTE’s teen cast were first timers), Spheeris not only cast real teenagers, she cast the film with non-professional street kids and punk rock musicians to play all of the roles. One of those punks (the pet rat-loving and stray doberman-training Razzle) was Flea, who would later star in Spheeris’s punk-inspired western, Dudes (1987); he soon surpass the musical careers of D.I, T.S.O.L, the Vandals (all who perform and act in the film) as the bassist of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. (D.I performs “Richard Hung Himself,” T.S.O.L “Wash Away” and “Darker My Love,” and The Vandals “The Legend of Pat Brown.” The Vandals would also appear in Dudes to perform “Urban Struggle.”)

It’s that neophyte casting that feeds the cinéma vérité narrative style of Suburbia and lends to natural actions and authentic dialog that, while scripted and staged, ranks Suburbia alongside Adam Small’s punkumentary Another State of Mind (1984) as one of the greatest punk films—and teenagers-in-revolt (i.e., juvenile delinquency flicks)—ever made. Yeah, we watched Francis Ford Coppola’s adaptations of S.E Hinton’s beloved early ’70s young adult novels The Outsiders and Rumblefish—both released the same year as Suburbia—but while competently crafted and acted, neither rings with the true sounds of celluloid liberty.

Courtesy of Shout Factory reissuing Suburbia as part of their Roger Corman Cult Classics DVD series in 2010, you can’t not find a copy. In fact, two of my local county library branches carry it. That’s more than I can say for the old Vestron Video VHS: I was a member of six video stores (three mom n’ pops, three chains) and only two carried it. And the two stores that did, thanks to New World Pictures’ dopey post-apoc artwork, they filed it in the sci-fi section—right next to copies of duBeat-e-o. Thankfully, the subsequent DVD and soundtrack CD reissues retained the original artwork of the theatrical one-sheet and Engima Records’ soundtrack LP (images via IMDb/Discogs).

You can stream that Shout Factory version for free on TubiTV, which also carries Spheeris’s follow ups to Suburbia: 1985’s The Boys Next Door (Tubi), itself a juvenile delinquency classic (that also ranks alongside 1979’s Over the Edge), and 1987’s Dudes (Tubi) . But if you’d rather ditch the ads, there’s a rip of Suburbia on You Tube. You can also listen to the soundtrack in its entirety on You Tube as you read the liner notes over on Discogs.

Music trivia flotsam and jetsam: Alex Gibson led L.A.’s BPeople for several years in the late ‘70s; the quartet started out as the Little Cripples (never recorded) with bassist Paul B. Cutler. When BPeople (a somber Joy Division-styled quartet with synths and saxophone) disbanded as result of lead singer Michael Gira relocating to New York to form the Swans (doing shows alongside Sonic Youth (Desolation Center), Gibson embarked on a solo career; Paul B. Cutler formed 45 Grave with Don Bolles of the Germs.

We all came to know 45 Grave with their death-punk classic “Party Time” from their debut album Sleep in Safety (1983; Enigma) via its inclusion on another punk flick classic, Return of the Living Dead. And we know the Germs courtesy of their appearance in The Decline of Western Civilization, which featured songs from their Joan Jett-produced debut, GI (1979; Slash).

The Vandals and D.I (an outgrowth of the Adolescents) each continued recording into the mid-2000. As The Vandals contributed songs to several more soundtracks (Glory Daze), drummer-bassist Joe Escalante made his leading man debut in the direct-to-video punk flick, That Darn Punk (1996).

T.S.O.L, through a plethora of roster upheavals and style changes (hard core, metal, and back again), continue to record. They also performed “Hit and Run” in another L.A. punk flick, The Runnin’ Kind (1989), as well as provide songs to The Return of the Living Dead and Dangerously Close. They also provided “Flowers by the Door” and “Hear Me Cry” to Hear Me Cry, an ’80s installment of the CBS Schoolbreak Special (yeah, we found it on You Tube).

Gibson parlayed his scoring work on Suburbia into a career as a music editor, most notably for the resume of Christopher Nolan, which culminated with his winning an Academy Award in 2018 for sound editing on the film for Nolan’s Dunkirk.

And good ol’ Roger Corman, never one never one to waste a set, costume, or frame of footage (Battle Beyond the Stars into Galaxy of Terror into Space Raiders; Eat My Dust recycled into Grand Theft Auto), used the concert sequences from Suburbia in White Star (1983), a Dennis Hopper-starring German rock flick that New World repurposed for the U.S. VHS market under the lame title, Let it Rock.

Update, May 2023: Our thanks to the gang at Film Scene for pull-quoting our review as part of their promotional materials for their May 10th showing of Suburbia as part of their Late Shift at the Grindhouse Film Series. It happens every Wednesday at Film Scene at the Chauncey in Downtown Iowa City.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

“Thanks for killing my mom.”
“Hey, no problem.”
— Kitty Carryall and Patch Kelly

What do you get when you shoot a film for less than $300 on Super-8 film with a bunch of your friends from the L.A. punk scene (Dez Cadena of Black Flag and DC 3, Jeff and Steve McDonald of Red Kross, Vicki Peterson of the Bangles)? You get Dave Markey’s amateurish — but much loved — campy mirco-classic about the rise and fall of punk rock band.

When the mothers of lead singer and guitarist Kitty Carryall (know your Brady Bunch trivia!; portrayed by screenwriter Jennifer Schwartz), bassist Bunny Tremelo (Hilary Rubens), and drummer Patch Kelly (Janet Housden; later became a legal consultant on films) decide that punk rock isn’t proper for young ladies, the trio runs away to fulfill their rock ‘n’ roll dreams.

Out on the (comical) mean streets of Los Angeles, the Lovedolls are forced to fend for themselves against gangs (Kurt Schellenbach of the Nip Drivers) and rival bands. Also working against them is their sleazy manager Johnny Tremaine (Steve McDonald of Redd Kross) who uses them for sex and his own personal gain, and a rival girl gang, the She Devils (Annette Zilinskas, then of the Bangles and later with Blood on the Saddle; became a film animator) who work at sabotaging the Lovedolls. The girls finally decide they had enough and decide to strike back at those who wronged them.

Director Dave Markey has made this available as a free stream on his official You Tube channel, along with the director’s cut of the sequel Lovedolls Superstar, also on his You Tube channel. You can enjoy a playlist re-creation of the soundtrack to Desperate Teenage Lovedolls on You Tube and an upload of the soundtrack to Lovedoll Superstar on You Tube. Both the DVD and CD of Desperate Teenage Lovedolls are readily available in the online marketplace, as well as used copies of the ’80s-issued VHS and LP versions. (Thank the analog gods for comic books stores renting odd-ball VHS titles, and record stores carrying used vinyl . . . why did I sell the album? Ugh! Oh, because of bought it for $10 and sold it for $80 because the car needed gas.)

You also also can watch Markey’s punkumentary, 1994: The Year Punk Broke — starring Nirvana, Sonic Youth, Babes in Toyland, and Dinosaur, Jr. — on Daily Motion and (as a 15-part upload) on You Tube.

You need more grunge flicks? Be sure to check out our “Exploring: 50 Gen-X Grunge Films of the Alt-Rock ‘90s” featurette chronicling a wealth of films from the era.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.

Anyway, to school ye masses on which bands are real and which bands are fake: Check out our “Ten Bands Made Up for Movies (and a whole lot more)” featurette. You need more rock flicks — both of the real and fake variety? Then check out our “Exploring 50 Gen-X Grunge Films of the ’90s” featurette.

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.

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.

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.

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.

* Check out our “Drive-In Friday: USA’s Night Flight Night!” feature on those days of cable yore.

** 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.

Jello Biafra of the Dead Kennedy’s goes Repo Man in this post-apoc sci-fi romp that reminds of Death Race 2000‘s political-parody intrigue — and it’s backed by the music of DOA, Keith LeBlanc, and Nomeansno, along with Biafra himself fronting DOA and Nomeansno for a pair of tunes.

Oi! I’m sold! Hey, ho! Let’s go!

Canadian acting mainstay Peter Breck (appeared in a wide array of U.S cop and western dramas in the ’60s and ’70, as well as starring as Nick Barclay in ABC-TV’s The Big Valley; you’ve also seen Breck in 1958’s Thunder Road, 1960’s The Beatniks, and 1963’s Shock Corridor by Samuel Fuller) stars as Ross Glimore, a media entrepreneur who serves as the corrupt, evil mayor of Terminal City, a decaying dystopia that manipulates the masses through television — and bans things such as rock & roll and meat — that renders the citizens addicted to consumerism that financially benefits the government.

When Alex Stevens, a punk-youth newspaper delivery boy, witnesses Glimore commit a hit-and-run accident, Glimore dispatches Bruce Coddle (Biafra, in a pisser of a role), a maniacal agent of Terminal City’s Social Peace Enforcement Unit, and his lackeys (DOA’s Joe Keithley and pro-wrestling legend Gene Kiniski) to silence Stevens until after Glimore steals yet another election.

Terminal City Ricochet was never officially available on VHS and rarely shown outside of its native Canadian TV broadcasts, along with an occasional U.S film festival or art house showing hosted by Biafra himself. Alas, there’s no freebie uploads or PPV streams online — you can, however, listen to the soundtrack on You Tube. (I rented a bootleg rip in the early ’90s from a local comic book store that carried VHS obscurities, such as the previously reviewed Hangin’ Out starring Nena; I also picked up the 1993 documentary Hated: GG Allin and the Murder Junkies and Toshiharu Ikeda’s Evil Dead Trap around the same time.)

Alternative Tentacles first issued the film to DVD in 2010, but as of April 2020, they now offer the film and soundtrack as a DVD/CD combo at the reasonable price of $12.00 via their website. If you loved Allan Arkush’s Get Crazy, Alex Cox’s Repo Man, Penelope Spheeris’s Suburbia, Michael Nesmith’s Tapeheads, and Allan Moyle’s Times Square, then you’ll dig the low-budget indie shenanigans of Terminal City Ricochet.

Get this . . . the scribe behind this, Phil Savath, also wrote the David Cronenberg drag-racing epic Fast Company and . . . the sci-fi horror musical Big Meat Eater. Yeah, really. All this, and the Dead Kennedys, too.

And be sure to join us for our “Phil Savath Night” as part of our weekly Drive-In Friday featurette.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

If you grew up in middle school or high school during the advent of a new cable TV channel called HBO in the early ’80s, chances are you caught at least one of the incessant airings (we watched it multiple times, of course!) of this British rock film — alongside the likes of the juvenile delinquency classic Over the Edge (starring Matt Dillon in his film debut) and Ladies and Gentleman: The Fabulous Stains. (Meanwhile, over on the USA Network’s “Night Flight” programming block, we watched Social Distortion in the punkumentary Another State of Mind and the Ramones in Rock ‘n’ Roll High School. Ah, those were the days. . . .)

O’Connor got her start as an actress, with support roles in the British films Girls Come First (1975) and Double Exposure (1977). To launch her music career (with financial assistance by Princess Diana’s then lover, Dodi Fayed), O’Connor was teamed with Marc Bolan’s (T.Rex) and David Bowie’s longtime producer Tony Vinconti (he also worked with Iggy Pop and Thin Lizzy) to craft the songs for the film; Brian Gibson (later of several Styx videos, as well as the Tina Turner bioflick What’s Love Got to Do With It and the 1998 Brit rock flick Still Crazy) was hired to craft a film around the songs.

Fans of ’70s British new wave music and of Toyah, know that the unknown O’Connor beat out Toyah Willcox for the role. At the time, Willcox was high on the British charts with her debut album, 1979’s Sheep Farming in Barnet, which featured the hit singles “Neon Womb” and “Victims of the Riddle,” and “Leya” from 1980’s The Blue Meaning. (If you’re a fan of the image and music of Lene Lovich and Nena Hagan — from our previously reviewed Cha Cha — or Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex and Siouxsie Sioux of Siouxsie and the Banshees, then you’ll enjoy the music of Toyah.)

As with the plot of most rock flicks, Gibson devised a story about the ubiquitous, meteoric rise and even quicker fall of Kate, a young and angry rock star lost in a world of drugs that’s compounded by managerial, record company, and media manipulation that leads to her eventual nervous breakdown. It’s a tale not far removed from the career trajectory of the faux bands chronicled in Slades In Flame, the 1982 Australian new wave comedy-drama Starstruck, 1980’s Times Square, and the aforementioned Ladies and Gentleman: The Fabluous Stains.

Astute British music fans will notice Phil Daniels from his starring role in Quadrophenia (brilliant as O’Connor’s talentless, bottom feeding street hustler-cum-manager), along with bassist Gary Tibbs from Adam and the Ants and Roxy Music as a band member (with equally decent acting chops). And keep your eyes open for ex-Animals keyboardist Zoot Money (You Tube) and Gary Holton of the Heavy Metal Kids (You Tube) in support roles. And yes, that is Jonathan Price as Ken, the band’s deaf and heroin-addicted saxophone player — on his way to his breakout roles in Something Wicked This Way Comes and Terry Gilliam’s Brazil.

Caveat Emptor #1: Sure, you can stream Breaking Glass on You Tube Movies and Amazon Prime U.S. But those are the American edits of the film that run at one hour thirty four minutes (94 minutes) with the film’s ending and other scenes (about 10 minutes) excised — you want to watch the original British version distributed in Europe that runs at 100 minutes. Alas, due to the usual legalese, that British version is not available on Amazon Prime in the U.K. — but the intrepid staff of B&S About Movies found the lone online copy of the British cut of the film on Vimeo (it’s been there for three years, but watch it while you can).

Caveat Emptor #2: The film was out-of-print for years and the recently released, mass marketed Blus and DVDs — which come from the choppy American print — have received poor reviews. The U.S online streams come from those un-restored Blus and DVD impresses. The way the reviews read, it seems we’d be better off with a grainy, taped-off-cable or VHS online rip of the film. The Blus and DVDs offer no menus or extras, booklets or the usual commentary tracks you’d expect from the re-release of such a classic, coveted film.

And just how influencial is this film?

Well, we all know about the debated relationship between Jack Wood’s Equinox and Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead, right? Well, check out this shot of Hazel O’Connor’s “robot” from the “Eighth Day” segment of Breaking Glass against an image of 1982’s TRON.

Then, there’s the striking similarities between the hair and makeup of O’Connor and Daryl Hannah’s Pris from Bladerunner.

You can listen to the full soundtrack — which hit # 5 on the British charts and earned a gold album status — on You Tube. You can also watch two scenes/songs/rock videos cut from the film of the soundtrack’s two Top Ten British singles, “Will You?” and “Eighth Day,” also on You Tube. “Give Me an Inch” became somewhat of new wave “hit” on U.S college radio stations at the time.

You are a programme! Programme! Programme!

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.