Bunch of Kunst

'Bunch of Kunst' follows the rise of Sleaford Mods, one of the most important bands in austerity-era Britain. Christine Franz's directional debut is raw and unpolished in its presentation of the Nottingham duo, whose abrasive, minimalist musical style is perfectly reflected by this documentary's strictly observational nature of storytelling. Much like the lyrics of chicken factory worker turned beats-maker Jason Williamson, Bunch of Kunst can be unapologetically real and brutal, as we ride-along on Sleaford Mods' 2015 tour. It can also, however, be a charming and poignant character piece, made out of a clear passion for punk rock, and the UK music scene.

While I haven't heard the band for a long time, I first came to know their origins and how witty they would become with Jason Williamson's contribution to The Prodigy's "Ibiza." From thereon, I would give "Divide & Exit" a listen and hearing Williamson talk in a thick, somewhat Northern dialect ranting about weak wages and corgis made me laugh more than any Seth Rogen comedy as of late.

BUNCH OF KUNST is no different. Despite it's strangely vulgar title (just don't flip the 'T' in front of the 'S'), the documentary is more than just an excuse to get a beautiful-looking 18-certificate for "very strong language", it's an excuse to show one of Britain's most important musical acts in a long time.

Not since Boards of Canada and Future Sound of London have I paid much attention to a group. The Mods' documentary details their release and status as a 'punk'-oriented, anti-establishment act as they create their successor to the awesome "Divide & Exit", "Key Markets." Featuring Williamson putting on a towel like the Pharaoh and then seeing Andrew Fearn (the silent, lanky lad with the laptop) talking about canal boats is just comedy gold and very familiar too. Given their origins as an independent group, you feel some of their pain as they try to compensate both their skills and the need for money in the age of austerity.

If you like THIS IS SPINAL TAP or found HATED: G.G. ALLIN, you'll definitely love this un-PC, foul-mouthed, out-there music film that details someone that people might find as just another Streets, Fall rip-off or the next best thing since the Sex Pistols.

Review by, Skinny Ebert (S.E.)

I had the fortune of being in Amsterdam during the 2017 documentary film fest and had the opportunity to see this film twice! Both times with the director Christine Franz and Sleafords manager Steve Underwood doing a Q&A.

The filmmaker uncannily catches the Sleafords as they are gathering steam but still playing to small, but rabid, audiences mainly in the UK. I think the director chose the subject because she was a fan and that shows as she really lets the band and their manager be the stars of this doc. You sometimes forget there is a camera trained on the subjects. We see daily life in working class England and how that forms the basis of the Sleafords musical genius; as an American it was really helpful for me to better understand how that discontent factors into the music.

The film logically ends at a point where the band gets some surprising success (I won't spoil it) so it ends on a high note... (no pun intended). For the first time director, I would give her an A+ effort on a subject that could easily have been rather difficult to grasp and make human. And the participation of their manager Steve (who I also met at the Q&A and who is a lovely bloke) was a real important angle in this story.

Can''t wait for the DVD and hope the director makes more films.

Have a Corgi? Are you a Jobseeker? Tied up in Nottz? Well, if you are one of those three or all of them, you definitely will love this documentary. I know I did.

Perhaps the best and most outspoken music film since THIS IS SPINAL TAP and HATED: G.G. ALLIN, we follow the Sleaford Mods' journey as they record their third official album "Key Markets" (not "English Tapas" which was released around the same time as this doc.) seeing Jason Williamson (the singer of the Mods) get a tattoo, have a towel at Glastonbury on his head wrapped around like the Pharaoh, and Andrew Fearn (the silent, gawky bloke on the laptop) staring at you smoking a cigarette and talking about canal routes. Hilarious indeed, it's also a slap-in-the-face against the typical, make-ourselves-look-Gods image pop groups put on and its indie hip-hop/rock/punk vibe is the perfect antidote to bewildered, austerity Britain...all in its 18-certificate (a rating hardly given to films like it used to) glory filled with a spattering of words that look and sound like the third word in the title but with the "T" in front of the "S."

As a fan of Boards of Canada, Future Sound of London, and Gorillaz, I actually didn't know about the Mods until last year when I started giving a chance on their music after hearing Williamson's contribution on The Prodigy's "Ibiza." Who knew an angry chap with a strangely thick Northern-sounding albeit East Midlands accent would be so bloody funny. I did and now Sleaford Mods among very select others are one of my favourite groups in recent years.

Review by, Skinny Ebert (S.E.)

If you like decent music, you must watch Bunch of Kunst. If you like decent documentaries, you must watch Bunch of Kunst. A raw and uncompromising portrait of the Sleaford Mods and the family and friends who surround them. Christine Franz is clearly a fan of Jason and Andrew's vital music. It's funny and heartwarming in parts but always against the backdrop of austerity Britain.