Culture Blues

NXNE: The Films

Despite this being its 10^th year in existence, the film festival portion of NXNE still has a long way to go before it feels like more than a dashed together afterthought. Every screening I attended this year suffered from similar annoying technical glitches, delayed scheduling that resulted in shortened Q&As, and sparse attendance.

Faults aside, NXNE’s film offerings are at least enthusiastically curated. If only the same people in charge of selecting the films could run the projectors and handle the marketing. Unless they do, in which case, learn to delegate, guys. Anyway, some interesting films quietly screened at NXNE.

Screening mere days after hockey riots nearly burned down Vancouver, I was expecting something a touch more visceral from Susanne Tabata’s documentary on the late 70s Vancouver punk scene. Bloodied But Unbowed is like sitting down in a dive bar and listening to some aging punks wax nostalgic for the good old days. While the doc might lack the edge of the movement it chronicles, it has no shortage of interesting characters or stories.

Even someone completely uninitiated in the Vancouver punk scene (like me) should find themselves pulled along by Tabata’s brisk pace. While it might focus on a relatively small scene, Bloodied But Unbowed has an expansive eye. It’s a comprehensive piece of work that simultaneously manages to not get mired in unnecessary details. However, the sheer number of characters at play here, and the post-production oversight to include title cards only when a person first appears on screen, can sometimes lead to one gray-haired punk blending into the next.

Bloodied But Unbowed is at its best when it narrows its focus for more intimate portraits. Of particular interest are Art Bergmann (a burned out genius now living as something of a recluse) and Gerry Hannah (former Subhumans bass player who served time for his involvement in a militant environmental group; his interviews are especially candid and self-aware). Both Bergmann and Hannah seem worthy of their own documentaries, which is really a credit to Bloodied But Unbowed - it’s an expansive overview that makes viewers eager to learn more about a niche scene.

Also, what’s more punk than an audience member screaming “fuck you, Duff!” when the Guns N’ Roses bassist appeared on screen?

Described in his own words, director Gorman Bechard’s documentary on The Replacements is a “unique filmmaking challenge.” In his desire to break the mold of Behind the Music style documentaries, Bechard has engineered a cinematic experiment where The Replacements never appear on screen and none of their music is played. Instead, their story is communicated solely through the anecdotes of fans, some of them famous (Tom Arnold, Craig Finn, Matt Pinfield, etc) and many of them not.

"People believe in god without ever seeing or hearing him or her. I'd like viewers to believe in the band that way,” wrote Bechard on his film’s IMDB page. Bechard further describes his documentary as in the spirit of The Replacements, a band notorious for thumbing their noses at convention. Somehow, I doubt The Replacements ever made an artistic decision as calculated and pretentious as Bechard has with Color Me Obsessed. I can understand his desire to eschew the traditional VH1 storytelling structure, but his decision to abandon The Replacements’ music – what this film is supposed to be celebrating – is a gimmicky and frustrating one. The lack of music leaves a noticeable, sometimes unbearable, void in the documentary.

And that’s exactly why it works so well.

Color Me Obsessed sent me away dying to listen to The Replacements. It also sent me away with a new perspective on the band – a unique, intimate familiarity born from the intricate unspooling of Bechard’s numerous interviews. The doc paints an abstract portrait of The Replacements; it doesn’t attempt to be exact or authoritative, rather it is as blurry as memory. Here we have not just the story of The Replacements, but a study of the relationship between a band and their fans. The interviews range from hilarious to analytical to heartbreaking and, regardless of one’s familiarity with The Replacements, should leave viewers feeling like they’ve shared an experience.

I might find the tone of Bechard’s self-promotion a bit too self-congratulatory, but there’s no denying that he has crafted a truly one-of-a-kind documentary. It’s strange that a project where we never see or hear The Replacements can feel like the perfect tribute to this criminally underrated band, but Color Me Obsessed is exactly that.

While Gorman Bechard might have abandoned traditional documentary storytelling techniques to brilliant results, the old ways can still provide tremendously effective films, especially when a subject is as willing as Jay Reatard.

Better Than Something, centered around footage filmed by directors Alex Hammond and Ian Markiewicz for a short film Reatard himself commissioned shortly before his death, serves as a fitting eulogy to the late rock star. Hammond and Markiewicz approach the traditional biographical elements – his troubled upbringing, his countless band break-ups, etc – through the lens of a more mellowed Reatard still grappling with his place in the world.

The interviews are rawer than in either of the two documentaries already discussed, especially the post-death interviews with Reatard’s grieving Memphis-based family. Reatard’s mother, in particular, is difficult to watch, so much so that Hammond and Markiewicz verge on becoming overly emotionally manipulative. For the most part, considering this documentary comes so soon after his death, the directors do a good job of not getting mired in sentiment.

There was a perception of Reatard as something of a narcissistic asshole, and no one seems more aware of that than Reatard himself. His interviews are the best parts of Better Than Something – they’re amazingly candid, intelligent, and engaging. Reatard is contemplative, extremely interested in his legacy and the purpose of his music, which makes the film’s inevitable conclusion all the more shattering.

Tagged as: better than something, bloodied but unbowed, color me obsessed, jay reatard, nxne films, the replacements