“Wearing a white lace dress and drinking a PBR”—Lydia laughs off that this is the way most of her press pieces start out, as she also expresses frustration that this is the image she is constantly boiled down to. This near two hour-long documentary is helmed by Gorman Bechard who is known for making films about The Replacements, Archers Of Loaf, and Grant Hart. Seems right up this mag’s alley, right? But when you cut to the core of who Loveless is as an artist, she falls under the self-proclaimed “indie alt-country” umbrella which I don’t know that Razorcake particularly prescribes to.
Her story is told by beautifully shot interviews with herself and her four bandmates, one of which is also her husband who she wed at twenty. I personally believe that punk is carried in a person’s way of thinking and viewing the world. What I was left with at the end was that the punk lean that this film tries to convey lies within Loveless’s controversial lyrical content (she doesn’t shy away from using words like “pussy” or “shit”), as well as a propensity for drinking and imploring a raucousness in her live performances. Though—as far as I could tell through the doc’s footage of her shows—is that they close with her writhing around on stage barefoot and/or drunkenly climbing atop the amps and speakers.
I don’t mean to completely dismiss this as it regards to punk, as there are several noteworthy conversations she has with her documentarian. Her comments on the monetary value of art, representation of women and sexism in the music industry, an unwillingness to kowtow her lyrics to fit with mainstream radio-friendly audiences, and her aversion to being filmed by cell phones when she’s trying to make a connection with the crowd are all wonderful and valid things to explore. On the other hand, topics like the sadness of having to put down her and her husband’s dog seem to be a desperate grasp at portraying tragedy in her life.
Lydia shares that she hates when artists reveal a song’s meaning only to ruin her own interpretation of it, so she refuses to do the same. Her lyrics are snapshots of love, life, drinking, and some despair, though I would like a peak at the pain behind those inspirations. Show me some struggle of what it’s like being so young and making music your fulltime commitment.
My takeaway is that this maybe is not for the audience of this magazine, though if you’re interested in a well-shot story of a rising country star with a hell of a voice, take it for a spin. Also I have to say that I was surprised that this documentary has a commentary track. Aren’t you already doing that in the documentary? I just don’t see why one needs another two hours about how the sausage is made. –Kayla Greet (What Were We Thinking Films, 203 Windsor Rd., Pottstown, PA 19464)

With a tagline of “put the oi in exploitation,” I am the target audience for this micro-budgeted campy punk gore comedy. It doesn’t disappoint with its onslaught of counterculture, nudity, goofiness, and gore. The Ungovernable Force tells the story of a wayward bunch of streetpunk kids at war with local jocks, cops, and politicians. Lead actor Jake Vaughan is genuinely compelling, as are the other adorable punk players who surround him. Cameo appearances from Troma’s Lloyd Kaufman, scream queen Debbie Rochon, Halloween actor Tony Moran, Steve Ignorant from Crass, Nick Cash from 999, Steve Lake from Zounds, Paul Russo from The Unseen, and Mensi from Angelic Upstarts add to the fun. Biting un-PC dialog permeates the script, which also includes more utterances of “ACAB” and “All Cops Are Bastards” than any other movie in film history. The action is punctuated with a killer soundtrack featuring The Blood, Who Killed Spikey Jacket?, Zounds, and more. The Ungovernable Force is way too long at 101 minutes, and the punk content far overshadows anything else it has to offer. Still, it’s audacious enough to warrant checking out. –Art Ettinger (BRINKvision, brinkvision.com)

What obligation does a reviewer have to be nice? Straight up, this is one of the most grueling media experiences I’ve ever sat through. It’s the movie length equivalent of somebody flipping through the radio and making little flip book drawings illustrating the plot of the lyrics.

Okay, I’m not explaining the premise well. This is an animated film, a jukebox musical of a sort. The dialogue is entirely made of clips from songs, with the lyrics laid out in subtitles so the audience can follow along at home. It tells the story of a band, The Merry, and their singer Rob, and before you know it you’re watching a retelling of the Robin Hood legend as a rock opera about corporate suits and creative disputes.

Here’s the thing though: this whole thing is awful. The animation is limited, but really what’s more of a problem is the generic and amateurish character designs. The songs switch back and forth pretty immediately. Questions asked by the chorus of one song are answered by verses from another. Sometimes a song you actually like is played and you kind of wish the movie would just play that song for a bit so you can forget you’re watching a bad movie.

What this seems like to me is that somebody made an off-handed joke and then went way too far with it. An hour and forty-nine minutes of this presentation is a brutal chore. Dialogue goes back and forth, seemingly endlessly. Conversations that would last seconds in other films take minutes here. Some of it is bloated dialogue, but sometimes it’s a sound clip being longer than it really deserves to be. It’s not that I think it could be better, but that this whole idea seems like a misguided venture from the start. Also, every character is white. Why? –Bryan Static (chasepetergarrettson.com)

This is one reunion I didn’t see coming.

This video features the band playing Camden Underworld London in 2016. The cameras are right in the thick of it to capture all the blood, sweat, and beers.

This DVD features three short pieces: the nine-minute “Plush Bus,” eleven-minute “Lambchop,” and fourteen-minute “Terrence.”

Although I am a fan of filmmaker Danny Garcia’s chosen subject matter in the past (The Clash, Johnny Thunders), I was a bit suspect of this particular story. Hadn’t the story of Sid been covered in movies like 1980’s DOA and Alex Cox’s Sid and Nancy? Apparently, I was wrong.

As punk bio docs go, this is one of the better ones out there, and it also serves as a great crash course on the Damned, their history, and their music.

Gosh, this is rough. It’s a six-minute short film. I had trouble watching it since the filmmaker made the stylistic decision to drop a layer of corny fake film wear over everything, despite nothing in the plot that would merit such a choice.

Gary began to lick the remaining blood off of my hand, as the band played merrily onward. This free exchange of bodily fluids remains, arguably, the punkest thing I’ve ever done in my life.