The Filth and the Fury

This movie almost seemed to zip by too fast, but then, so did the Sex Pistols. Come to think of it, the last 20 years (when I first started listening to them in junior high) also zipped by pretty fast...they put all the best songs, the best performances in there, along with some rare footage. Sex Pistols fans may have already seen the interview with a nodded-out Sid Vicious and sleazy girlfriend Nancy Spungen (who makes Courtney Love at her worst look like Grace Kelly) trying to wake him up for the camera as he snores. But what no fans may not have seen is a short, heartbreaking clip of an interview with Vicious after he is out on bail after being arrested for her murder. When the interviewer thoughtlessly asks him if he's 'having fun right now', Vicious just chuckles bitterly and asks him, "Are you kidding? No, I'm not having any fun, at all." when the interviewer asks him where he wishes he was right now, Vicious' quiet, calm answer to the question is so chilling and heartfelt that it made every hair on my body stand on end. In a scene shortly after, John Lydon talks about Sid getting his wish, and for a minute you think in the voice over he is laughing, because as a rule you don't see him displaying any other emotion other than general crankiness, then you suddenly realize he's actually in tears over his dead boyhood friend. But you can also see the fun the Sex Pistols had while it lasted-especially memorable during a reminisence of how they played a children's party, with footage of them covered in cake later, to one of the Pistol's best songs, "Bodies". The soundtrack, timing, and editing are all perfect. As I said, my one complaint that was it zipped by too fast, but talking with my husband after the movie, so did the Sex Pistols. One of the better rock documentaries I've seen.

This film is a documentary about one of the most influential (certainly one of the most controversial) bands in music history: The Sex Pistols.

During their brief career, the Sex Pistols defined the genre of music called Punk Rock. The film details the situation in Britain at the end of the 1970s, where widespread dissatisfaction and alienation, combined with a very dull music scene, helped fuel the anger and craziness of Punk, which, according to John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten), gave a voice to people who previously didn't have a voice.

The film is a collection of present day interviews with the surviving members of the band (given in silhouette, for some reason), archive footage from concerts and TV appearances, vintage movie clips (notably Laurence Olivier as Richard the Third) and surreal animation.

The film mostly sidelines the Pistols' notoriously self-aggrandising manager Malcolm McLaran to concentrate on the band members themselves. The movie gives a good insight into an often quite disturbing world and a scene that was truly anarchic and exciting, whether you were a fan or not. There are also moments of genuine sadness, for example when Lydon talks about his friend, the late Sid Vicious.

This is recommended to anyone interested in popular music, or anyone who wants to see what real Punk was all about.

Was recommended this by a pistols fan who is also into the Punk scene. Not being a Pistols fan I was unsure but my friends tastes are similar so gave it a try. Very pleased I did. It's a thoroughly enjoyable docu film with some great footage and really encompasses the whole scene. It's amazing how times have moved on really and this is also a look at how society was so stuck up it's own arris here in the UK at that period.

John Lydon has always been much more than just a yob of a front man as every interview I have ever heard with him he has always spoken with true meaning and passion. This has not changed my mind and you cannot help but be moved by his interview, especially on the death of Sid. The best moments for me are the interviews and clips of journalist Nick Kent, an absolute 'kent' if ever there was one. As a big Adam Ant fan it was nice to see some footage of the man behind the song "Press Darlings", and boy did he come up trumps. What a complete.... It also reveals McLaren to be the compete t**t he was too. A great film for everyone with even a passing interest in music and not just punk. It's about a change in ideals and the times. And very well done. 9/10 as it does what it sets out to do very very well.

The real story of punk rock will, apparently, never be told. I suppose that's because most of the surviving participants have too much ego invested; or because, as the years fade, and the original social context disappears, the meaning of Punk - at its inception - becomes harder to decipher and easier to forget.

I was in NYC in '76, when it was first breaking for the national press, and I hung around CBGBs under a number of pseudonyms, trying to write reviews and articles on bands that nobody ever heard of, many of them breaking up before I could dot the last "i" in the last paragraph. And I tried out a couple bands of my own, weird blends of Iggy and the Velvet Underground. But I was really an outsider (coming from upstate); and when the London scene started shipping singles over, I knew that, for whatever reason, my heart was really more into "Anarchy" and "White Riot" than the metal-surf-music of the Ramones or early Blondie. But this disjunction of 'right time wrong place' or whatever, allowed me to see the development of Punk in a way others seem content to ignore.

The fundamental problem that Punk never resolved (and current neo-punks are still struggling with it), is, whether Punk was to be a continuance of the "counter culture" of the '60s in different guise, or just another pop-music for sexually frustrated young people. This sounds like an empty theoretical issue, but it has one all-important concrete aspect to it no one can ignore - money. Did (do) punks make music to make music - or to make money? That question was never answered; or, perhaps, every punk answered (answers) it in his/ her own way. Yet once we begin adding up all the individual answers, most of them sure come out sounding like "money". Yet the memory of Punk survives largely because it seemed to be about anything other than money; so the dilemma continues.

That dilemma surfaces again in this film, especially in the discovery of the wretched rip-off Pistols manager Malcom McLaren pulled, not only on the audience, but on the Pistols themselves. The brief moments from the (thankfully unfinished) "Who Shot Bambi?" make it very clear that McLaren had not the slightest clue as to who the Pistols were, or what they represented. Yet he not only continued to guide their career after their break-up, but is warmly mentioned in Griel Marcus' scholarly history of Punk, "Lipstick Traces", which will probably bear influence on punk histories, long after the last "photo-album" paperback turns to dust. Yet it is clear that from the get-go McLaren's only interest was the profit.

The Pistols were right, and are right, to ignore questions concerning their "materialism" or "selling out", since they were never part of the hippies' 'anti-materialism' ideal to begin with, and because they never denied a desire for some paycheck (which they almost never got from McLaren). But also plain is their desire to make the music of the UK working-class slums from whence they came.

All of this comes to a head in the brief yet unforgettable tragedy of Sid Vicious - for whom music meant freedom, and money meant - heroin. But junky 'rockstars' don't play at commercial venues to make music. He ended up in NYC, which by then had a punk scene swarming with record-co.-exec vermin dealing dope and poseur sycophants trying to score. Eventually all that was left was the heroin, and it killed him.

This film won't resolve any of these issues; but it may help raise them, and place them in a proper light. I can't agree that it is a well-made film - the editing, which is very flashy, is also somewhat vapid, and goes out of control too often. But there's adequate reminder of the era of the Pistols here, and why it was many of us thought, at the time (and still believe) that the Pistols were the most important rock band in history.

The segment from the final performance at Winterland is worth the price of the film: same-old same-old music concerts are "no fun" and Jones and Rotten (knowing they've been betrayed by McLaren into performing for the corporate music world they hated) rub our noses in it until they've had enough and stalk off. If you can see this - and know what it's about - and still pay $200 to see Mick Jagger pull his wrinkled pud at you at the age of 65, you don't need a movie review, you need a psychiatrist.

The first Julian Temple documentary on the Sex Pistols, 'The Great Rock n'Roll Swindle' was a gimmicky treatment that suggested the creation of the band was all a clever confidence trick perpetuated by Malcolm Maclaren. In his version the Pistols were a personal creation that deliberately manipulated the media and the 'suits' that ran the music industry into paying out vast amounts of cash even when the band failed to produce any material.

This second version of events is a little more honest. Maclaren is shown to be a self-deluded egotist, the real driving force being 'Johnny Rotten', and the band, far from having the upper hand, were in fact ripped off financially by the very people they were supposed to be rebelling against.

It all ended in a shambolic final concert where Rotten wails out 'No Fun' for 15 minutes and then walks off with a smirking, 'Ever felt you've been cheated?'

Trouble is; this is a lie as well. The Pistols carried on after Lydon left; sad fun and games with the Great Train Robber, Ronnie Biggs and Sid Vicious' infamous rendering of 'My Way' being the 'highlights'. What's more, within months of Johnny Rotten's noble statement about not selling out at the end of the documentary, the Pistols reformed in the 21st century and gave progressively pathetic concerts.

It's still an interesting documentary but I guess the myth has now become so mixed up with the legend that anything approaching the truth is lost for ever.

This documentary does feature, however, an archive interview with Sid Vicious – whose real name was John, Lydon affectionately remembers - which I have never seen before. It says more about the times than anything else in the film. Although dressed in his trade mark Nazi t-shirt and initially punctuated with all the predictable anarchic attitudes, this veneer gradually slips away to reveal a young naïve man, who's life along with his heroin addiction was spiraling out of control.

No fun, indeed.