The Art Neuro Weblog

Review: 'The Kids Are Alright'
There are documentaries, there are rockumentaries and there are mockumentaries; beyond that lies 'The Kids Are Alright'. Why this film now? First of all, you have to understand that DVDs have added another layer of merchandising to be exploited by any musical group, and then it becomes inevitable that this rock dinosaurean artifact should come out of the glaciers of film history and see the light of day as a double-disc showstopper. Why am I reviewing it now? Well, I was stupid enough to buy it; kicked myself for my craven materialism, sentimentality, nostalgia and slavish catalogue-chasing; only to be pleasantly surprised by what I saw. You could say it took me by surprise, so I am here to pass on that surprise.

So What's it About? - The Background
First, as with all things to do with The Who, is the history. Sometime in the 1970s, a documentarist by the name of Jeff Stein approached The Who to do a rock-documentary on them. They said yes, and gave him carte blanche access to anything and everything that was shot on film and TV. After four years of sorting through a mountain of mixed formats and reels, Stein emerged from the cutting room with the film that defines the bench mark of rockumentaries. The film premiered in 1979, shortly after the death of drummer Keith Moon. In fact, Keith Moon had seen the film, just before he died of an overdose, but also, the film features the very last time the Who played live with Keith Moon, in a raucous rendition of 'Won't Get Fooled Again'.
There are Beatle fans, there are Rolling Stones fans, Hendrix fans and Clapton fans, Pink Floyd fans and Led Zeppelin fans; each of them have their weird way of expressing their admiration for their musical heroes. The Who fans alone are warped in that they want The Who to themselves and yet they want the whole damn world to know that The Who are the greatest. This is a point made by Director Jeff Stein in the commentary track. I've never understood the origin of this impulse, but I admit I have it too. Don't ask me why. It's just a Who-thing. Stones fans are always trying to sell you the Stones as the greatest Rock'n'Roll band ever, passing this misinformation around like some tired joint at a party. The Who fans know a priori and empirically that the Stone fans are totally, hopelessly, irrevocably wrong. I mean, if the Stones were so good, how come it took them until the 1990's to release their Rock and Roll Circus movie? Wasn't it because it took them until 1996 to get over the fact that maybe,The Who really were a much more exciting, explosive rock act? - That's the kind of smug , superior partisan thinking The Who inspire in their fans.

What I Remember of the Film
I saw the film in 1982, shortly after the Valhalla cinema in Glebe was refurbished and opened for business as a revival cinema. (The first film I saw in the then refurbished Valhalla that year was Hammett; I saw it with the manager of the Alsorans and Mr. Conservative Weasel, but that is another story). It was a regular fixture at the Valhalla, as part of a double billing with Quadrophenia. There was a 'mod-revival' going on in Sydney at the time and so every time they played the Kids/Quadro double, scores of lambrettas with Union Jacks and mirrors would line up outside 'the Val' and these guys with Ray Bans on at night would fill the cinema. As the opening section rolled these retro-mods would yell out to the projection room "TURN UP THE VOLUME!!" It was that kind of movie experience.

The film I remember was jagged, edgy, proto-punk, energetic. I did see this film about 5 times at the Valhalla. Twice with a girl who just hated it. Once with another who loved it, thrice on my ownsome because nobody wanted to go to the Valhalla during a weeknight. It was one of those films that defined and concretised a corner of my existence. It was an important testament to rock music. It made me into Dewey Finn. Of course, after This is Spinal Tap, it became hard to watch Rock Stars on the screen talking instead of just performing. The rise of music-video-clips seemed to make concert footage seem really boring and tame.

After I found myself at Film School, I never returned to watch the film. I did get asked once in a class about documentary what I thought the best documentary was and I insisted this film was it; and got resoundingly laughed at by the other more 'knowing' folks. I have to confess it's been a very long time since I've sat down to watch this movie and a lot of my life has passed between the gates since the last time, so to speak.

Smashing guitars and drums featured heavily in my memory. I do recall the appeal was the very wanton destruction of good equipment. Keep in mind, Keith Moon's infamous 'Pictures of Lily' kit was a custom made Ludwig kit. Pete Townshend was smashing Gibsons, Fenders, Rickenbackers with equal nonchallance. Roger Daltrey would swing his microphone and strike unlikely poses. John Entwistle would just let his fingers do the talking. Really, there's not much to see so much as experience.

What's Great About It - Long Live Rock, I Need It Every Night
The DVD is all great. I don't think I've seen this film with this much clarity. Apart from the clarity, what comes across is the historic document aspect of the film. Much more than I imagined, the film has stood the test of time. In fact it is an even better testament to the power that was rock music in the 1960's and 1970's.

Playing music is a passion in all sense of the word. It's a burden, it's a pain, it's agony, it's also great. In this film, you see the passion that you never see anywhere else. It's great playing in a Rock'n'Roll band that just plain kicks butt. There is nothing like it, and if it was ever captured on a film comprehensively, this film is it. Passion, motivation, appetite, sacrifice, creation, destruction, archetypical surrender to the muse are all part of the discourse in the film and so it should be. There is nothing more boring than a rock musician trying to explain this; however, to see it bend these people out of shape (and they are not well people to start off with) makes this a truly historic document of a time and place.

It's all in this film: Pete Townshend wriggling his butt, jumping around, kicking air, swinging his arm, squeezing out feedback and searching for spiritual ecstasy only to be found in the music. Keith Moon flails about like no other drummer but he is visceral joy incarnate; he is a function of his appetite, and he has a large appetite for music. Roger Daltrey was never a natural showman, but as front man, he strikes some poses, that look like shamanic rituals, trying to channel the power of the universe into the song. John Entwistle just plays blindingly well, his posture inert, his expression an occasional smirk or a raised eye-brow. Then, Pete and Keith smash their equipment. It makes sense.

There was a time when Rock Music was it. It was transcendent; it was all encompassing; it contained the potential for all future music; it was alive and with us all. Particularly poignant is the set-closer 'Won't Get Fooled Again' that is played with reckless abandon - the last time the Who played with Keith Moon. Moon sports a headphone, gaffer-taped to his head in order to play in time to a backing tape of the ARP Synthesiser part. So you have the most undisciplined drummer the world has probably ever seen, playing in time to a machine - Enslaved, chained and bound. And yet, he finds something in the rigidness of the set-up that liberates true, joyous, music. You see it in his facial contortions and histrionics, you see it in the twirled sticks, the 15-tom rolls, the smashed cymbals, the clowning around, you see him pour something out that makes machine music into something organic and whole. The last gasp of the rock musician.

Then Keith died. Shit went down. People grew out of it. Rock music passed into history, and today people listen to machines generating all the sounds and think it is music. Think about that. There are kids who have listened to nothing but machines making music and think it's great. The film then, is a Rosetta stone for future rock archaeologists to understand what exactly the brouhaha was all about.

What's Bad About It - I Got Fooled Again
I've never had a problem with this film. When I think about it, it's one of the few films I would unflinchingly give 10/10. Even the DVD package is great. I know I'm getting ripped by the record company one more time for my sentimentality, allegiance and whatnot, but it's still great. It's a bit like being mugged and saying, "I didn't mind the bit where the mugger searched around my groin, that bit felt good" but what can I say? It's the nature of the capitalist beast. It nurtured rock, it killed rock.

Art + Politics = A Kick In The Nuts
I just want to bring up something tangential to all this, which is the footage they could not find of Woodstock. The Who were playing. In between songs, activist Abbie Hoffman got up to make a speech about the leader of the White Panthers getting busted for possession of two joints. Pete Townshend whacked Abbie Hoffman in the back of the head with his guitar, then kicked him off the stage into the pit several metres below. It's a historic moment for the 'counter culture'. In the film, Townshend justifies this moment on account of his state of mind on stage. He hated Woodstock, he hated the crowd, he hated the counter-culture, he hated all of it. In 1987, he re-canted and said that if it happened in 1987, he would stop the music and let Hoffman have his say. He even went on to say that he wanted to re-write the lyrics for 'Won't Get Fooled Again' because it was the dumbest song he ever wrote. This was all in the Rolling Stone 20th anniversary issue.

I remember reading it and thinking, "Pete' you're f*cking wrong." Abbie Hoffman's cheesy little politics did not survive that time and place. The White Panthers (who the hell were these people anyway?) didn't survive. The performance of The Who survives today as an important monument to the times far more than Hoffman's politics. Pete, you were right to kick Hoffman off the stage. In an arena for artistic expression, Art should always have precedence over mere, despicable Politics.
Thankfully Townshend never re-wrote the words to 'WGFA' either. There's something eternally profound about "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss". If nothing else, it tells you why Peter Garrett is a far inferior artist and human being for even wanting to run for Parliament. Garrett wants to be the new boss. Oh heavens, spare us.

- Art Neuro

Addendum: I know I made a crack about the Stones in this but I have to report that Roger Daltrey denies the notion that the Stones were cagey about the The Who's performance; the Stones were cagey because of Brian Jones' state on that fateful day of filming.

The other interesting thing to come out of the Roger interview was how KeithMoon reacted to the screening of the film, 3 weeks before his demise. Roger describes it as being shocking for Keith who on the screen goes from an 18 year old lean, good looking kid to a rotund, unsavoury middle aged man. He says it must have been like falling off the cliff and seeing his life flash before his eyes (Which, in the end, it was). Keith, according to Roger came out quite shaken by the experience, and Roger says he recalls telling Keith that he shouldn't worry about it because Keith was the star of the film, and that he would help Keith get back into shape. Sort of an odd anecdote about the days leading up to Keith's death. Roger says "It almost shocked him back into sobriety". Yet, I got the strange feeling that perhaps seeing the film pushed Keith to more extremes rather than sobering him up, resulting in his overdose.