ianperot

If you're a fan of grunge, or suffering from an inexplicable bout of 90s nostalgia, then this film will no doubt make fascinating viewing. If, however, you want a film that goes beyond the story that everybody already knows, and delivers something more than a load of concert footage and an unnecessary (because really, who the hell doesn't already know this?) portrait of the cynical and exploitative nature of corporate America when faced with a new, marketable sub-culture, then it might not be worth bothering. Yes, the people from the bands all seem lovely, and there are a few neat moments here and there, but in the end this is really just an excuse for eighty minutes of second-tier, never-was grunge bands rocking. And do you really want to subject yourself to that? Hopefully, someone will eventually make a film about the history of punk rock that manages to be both entertaining and informative, and not just another tedious anti-corporate screed (apparently The Decline of Western Civilisation is such a film. I haven't seen it, but I intend to check it out) padded with footage of everyone's favourite bands from their first year of University.

It's not bad. It's just not that great, either.

To watch this movie, one must understand something that many appeared to have missed. Chiefly, the mish-mashed, ridiculous, over-blown insanity of it is the entire point. It is this that it aims for, and this that it achieves. It is not really a story, so much as every conceivable joke that could be thought of, thrown into an editing studio and spat out the other end as gold. This movie will challenge many who cannot break-out of the mold of needing a firm plot and some commonsense, but in this regard it is much like a comedic version of a David Lynch film, and I enjoyed Twin Peaks: The Movie even if I still don't get it.

So watch this for the crackling one-liners, ridiculously pretty women, lurid sets and the most completely unself-conscious approach to making a comedy that I have ever seen. It goes beyond funny, and becomes a matter of being shocked into admiration for the sheer silliness of it all. And the fun of trying to explain it to someone afterwards is immeasurable.

"So then the flying-saucer kidnaps Mata Hari and James Bond's love-child, and then James Bond who's David Niven and James Bond who's Woody Allen face-off, and meanwhile James Bond is being tortured with insane hallucinations and someone has snuck into his delusions with a machine-gun bagpipe and through all this Deborah Kerr was a French Scotswoman!"

Much less a true story than very funny surrealist art. Like Salvidor Dali meets The Pythons, but odder. And lots of great satire and stuff, too. See it. Now. If only to broaden your horizons.