Monday, January 17
While most people would agree the mid-'70's punk revolution provided a welcome kick in the pants to an American popular music scene about to overdose on art rock, what purpose did it serve besides influence? The Sex Pistols and The Anti-Nowhere League are, for all practical purposes, unlistenable - their European and American disciples had to fold either blues or pop into the musical mix to stay viable (The Clash being the most legendary example). Some musicians were determined to carry out the economic bitterness legitimized by England's punk movement to its most logical extreme. GG Allin was among the most documented stateside casualties around. As the lead singer and songwriter for The Murder Junkies, his performances were legend. Allin did all the heinous things establishment wimp Ozzy Ozbourne was rumored to do, and more - he defecated on stage, cut up audience members, and generally conducted himself as a mindless rage machine bent on self-destruction.
He pledged to commit suicide in concert a few times but never followed through - he died in 1992, rather anticlimactically, of a heroin overdose. New York University film student Todd Phillips followed Allin and his band of terminal fuck-ups for several New York performances, recording their mayhem and providing what would turn out to be Allin's final document. You'll see live performance of all The Murder Junkies' hits you never heard - songs like "Sleeping In My Piss" and "Expose Yourself To Kids." Hated: GG Allin & The Murder Junkies plays an exclusive Dallas engagement Jan 13-19 at the Major Theatre, 23830 Samuell Blvd. Tickets are $6. Call 821-FILM for show times.
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Included was a review of the film.
Hated: G.G. Allin and the Murder Junkies (1992) Only the Major Theater would screen this profoundly disgusting documentary by Todd Phillips about the life and times of G.G. Allin, lead singer of the underground hardcore punk band The Murder Junkies - a squat, bald, tattooed, goblinlike symbol of absolute artistic freedom. Be warned: Allin's central philosophical motivation is to "bring danger back to rock 'n' roll," and he puts this philosophy into action in physically and sometimes morally repugnant ways - performing naked, masturbating onstage, and hitting random audiences members with chairs, his microphone, his fists and his own randomly-hurled feces (which, at one point, he also eats on camera). Allin's fans attend his shows because, unlike the avatars of yuppie-ruled corporate rock, Allin is truly unpredictable, beholden to no one, and displays a warped but powerful kind of integrity (and because Allin has repeatedly stated that he intends to commit suicide onstage, and his followers want to be there when it happens). Phillips' dispassionate approach draws a clear line between respecting an artist and approving of him; Phillips seems to find Allin's incoherent babblings about fighting authority and being true to his muse darkly funny, yet he never condescends to the man. Phillips clearly respects Allin, despite his neandrathal slobbishness because he recognizes why the singer is important: because he's the most extreme example of a First Amendment test case in modern pop culture. The Major Theater, 2830 Samuell Blvd. Call 821-FILM for showtimes and directions.
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