Hated: GG Allin & the Murder Junkies

First off, let me say that I found "Hated" to be a very entertaining film, and I believe that G.G. Allin was as legitimate an American folksinger as Leadbelly or Woody Guthrie (his material was more, ummm...specialized, but listen to 'Gypsy Motherf*cker', 'Liquor-Slicked Highway', or 'Shove That Warrant Up Your Ass' to get an idea of what I'm talking about). But rather than being a balanced portrait, "Hated" is largely a performance. Some people will just respond, "So?" after reading that. But it matters because this film takes itself soooooo seriously. There are serious moments in it, of course, but there's a lot of humor as well...and a lot of artifice on Allin's part. Did he have a horrible childhood? Yes, by all accounts. Was there a time when his onstage antics were more sincere than when "Hated" was filmed? Yes--just check out the archival footage of his spoken-word performance in Boston in 1988; he wasn't kidding around. (Actually, the excerpts featured in the film don't even reveal all of the embarrassing, frightening, and nakedly emotional moments of that performance; you'll have to track down a bootleg video or DVD to see the whole enchilada.) But why, at thirty-six or thirty-seven--when you're out of prison and looking relatively healthy, and you've achieved at least some level of notoriety--do you still feel the need to cut yourself, eat your own sh*t, and beat up your fans? The answer is that G.G. Allin apparently DIDN'T want to do this anymore. Just before his death, according to biographer Joe Coughlin, Allin said that he wanted to retire from the punk scene and go into country music. And why not? When you're approaching forty, you simply can't withstand the kind of self-abuse that Allin's fans had come to expect. But he soldiered on for another couple of years, doing precisely what WAS expected of him, and died because of it (if indirectly). G.G. Allin had a natural, genuine talent, but he painted himself into a corner pretty early on. He loved his daughter, was a fan of Captain Kangaroo and at one time had a damned fine singing voice. The monstrous character that he played--and sometimes became--was interesting, but it's a shame that "Hated" lets us see only that facet of his personality.

There's nothing I could say or any review here that could prepare you for the wild ride documentary of this man's life. Not being a fan, I couldn't appreciate nor see any talent as maybe his admirers would, still though, this is very intriguing. If you want to see a man who lived his life to the very edge of extremity and brink of insanity, I present G.G. Allin. Punk Rock, Death Metal, Satanic or White Supremicist Rock Groups all look like a PBS program for pre-schoolers compared to this man. I suppose the one question we ask ourselves while watching this, as you realize you actually are watching is, "shouldn't this guy be institutionalized?" There's some very deserving folks locked away for lesser reasons, yet because he was classified (by some) as a performer, he was free to be exposed (and expose himself) to the general population and even entertain. Like Lenny Bruce, G. G. Allin doesn't apologize for its shock value. This is serious stuff, not for the weak and yes, you will be disturbed with its content. As a documentary it does pull you in and well presents G. G. to a point where you understand his point of view and in some odd way sympathize with his way of thinking and living. He lived a harsh life and it was his way of expressing outrage and coping in society with equal disgust. Like an animal on display at a zoo, you wonder what the animal thinks of you might better describe his act. If you ever wanted a taste of the wild side this is as close as you'll get without being there and might appreciate your quiet life more once seeing it. It's more than a documentary, it's an experience, one that will haunt and disturb you long after. So before you dismiss this as just a story of an insane and sickening man claiming to be an entertainer, watch it with an open mind and a good stomach, you'll definitely need it, and be happy you survived. This is as gritty as you'll see outside a snuff film.

Is the GG Allin seen on-screen in this doco the "real" GG Allin? Frankly, THAT remains to be seen because GG on camera is a different GG to the guy who appeared occasionally at LA's Mondo-Video-A-Go-Go and shot the breeze with The Colonel, the store's proprietor.

The GG essayed on film by Todd Phillips is a force of angry nature, a punk with no discernible talent for music but a blazing talent for notoriety, anarchy and illegality.

What a true warts-and-all docu this is. Its jagged, freewheeling style perfectly mirrors the personal style of its fascinating subject. GG isn't likable in a standard way, but he's a damn courageous nutbag and intensely interesting for the angst he peddles.

Interviews with Deano (the naked drummer), brother Merle (with his Hitler moustache) and ex-members of GG's band, The Murder Junkies, are priceless. Also of bottomless merit is a wild clip where GG gets wasted, heads to a party and pays some skank to urinate into his mouth.

The concert footage is gold, and so is one live performance where a mean-spirited GG (is there any other kind?) slashes himself up and begs a female fan to finish the job. For her efforts, the fan cops a beating.

An interview with GG's old school principal, a vague ex-Hippie, is unforgettable.

One of the best rock docos going and entertaining from beginning to end.

Director Phillips, who also did the disturbing SCREWED, now directs Hollywood forgettables such as ROAD TRIP and OLD SCHOOL.

Unpleasant to watch, but interesting as a documentary to learn about who and what GG Allin was and how he came to be like this.

Up to the viewer to decide how real GG Allin actually was in the end.

Although he passed away in a typical rock star way (heroin overdose) in 1993, nothing else in GG's life could ever be considered typical. Yes, it is true that GG Allin makes Marilyn Manson look like a Sunday school teacher, but to focus on that is missing the point of this movie. As a fan of rock music, I can understand exactly where GG is coming from when he says that there is a great void in rock music today, that there is no soul behind the stars of the music industry. Where is the senseless destruction? Where is the violence? Where is the hyper-obscene sexuality that once offended legions of conservative suburbanites in the 1950's and 60's? Feeling that since he is the only one with the guts to do anything about it, GG took it upon himself to single-handedly compensate for all the boring cookie-cutter rock stars that anxiously collect royalty checks and live in $10 million mansions. GG willingly suffered to be a martyr for rock music, frequently going so far that once, warrants were out for his arrest in at least seven states at the same time! One scene that particularly hit me was this: GG is shown walking out of a court room after being handed down one of the many prison sentences he received in his life. As he walks by the camera, he exclaims triumphantly, "They're trying to destroy rock and roll but they CAN'T DO IT!" It is strange for me to admit that as a touching statement, especially when said by a man who is repeatedly shown sprawled out naked on stage, smothered in his own blood, urine, and feces, but at the same time, you wonder-- does anyone else out there in that nameless faceless monolith of rock give a damn about what they're doing enough to sacrifice their life for the name of it?

This movie is not for casual patrons of rock-- only a true lover of it will be able to transcend the gruesome, appetite-suppressing, often vomit-inducing qualities of the film. Endlessly fascinating, pathetic, disgusting, tragic, and perplexing, Hated is one the greatest rock documentaries ever made.