Tribeca Film Festival Review

“Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll”

Reviewed 7 April 2010 by Ted Faraone

Three stars out of five; $8.00 ticket on a scale of $0 to $13.00.

BIG LITTLE MAN

Ian Dury, the pioneering British punk rocker who coined the phrase, “Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll,” was too outsized a figure not to merit a biopic in death.  That is too bad, because biopics are almost always epics, and unless one is Cecil B. DeMille, one is better off not attempting it.  Matt Whitecross directs this effort, shot largely in and around London, and to his credit; he does not fall totally flat on his face.  At least he has the good sense to end pic years before his subject’s death from cancer in 2000 -- Lifetime Original Movies take note.

Whitecross also has the good sense to cut out nearly every irrelevant bit of Dury’s life -- including his art college education, years as an illustrator for the Sunday Times, and his jobs teaching art.  Instead he concentrates on Dury the poet and showman in the music hall tradition who brought to rock and roll a spare, stylized anger in the form of punk and flashes back to Dury’s bout with polio at age 10, which left him partially paralyzed on one side and may well have made him by way of compensation the larger-than-life figure he would become.

The problem, even in Whitecross’ selective recounting of Dury’s life, is that pic, at 115 minutes, is still too long.  This may account for its limited theatrical release in New York following an April 21 video on demand release that coincided with it’s Tribeca Film Festival public screening.  At least Whitecross makes good use of titles quick cuts to aid in exposition. 

Pic’s anchor is Andy Serkis as Dury.  He plays the rocker at turns as egomaniac, loving, drugged to the gills, brilliant, bullying, and charming -- in other words he conveys at all times Dury’s need to be the center of attention.  Serkis’ Dury is forever in motion -- except when he is asleep.

Mention must go to supporting players, most of whom turn in superior work, especially the stunning Naomie Harriss as Denise Roudette, Dury’s girlfriend when he finally shot to fame in his middle 30s with the album, “New Boots and Panties.”  Also noteworthy are Olivia Williams as his first wife, Betty, Ray Winstone as his dad, Bill Milner as son Baxter, and Ralph Ineson as Sulphate Strangler, the musician who introduced a pre-teen Baxter to amphetamine explaining that it won the Battle of Britain by keeping RAF pilots awake.

Pic benefits from input by many of Dury’s contemporaries -- which could just as easily have derailed it.  The surviving Blockheads, Dury’s hit band, recorded instrumental tracks for Serkis to front.

Whitecross and scribe Paul Viragh offer a fairly compelling piece of film for a biopic.  Scenes of Serkis in performance as Dury benefit from Whitecross’ years making music videos for Coldplay, but one element remains questionable.  It is the supposed narration from beyond the grave by Serkis in white makeup -- in character?  Yes, but a tad hokey.  Remaining quibbles are minor.  Serkis almost always smokes.  It may be accurate but it is just as distracting as all the smoking in AMC’s TV series, “Mad Men.”  One must occasionally adjust verisimilitude to suit the times.  Dialogue may be perfectly comprehensible to a Brit, but elsewhere much of it needs subtitles.  Tech credits are good, although one wishes that Editor Peter Christellis had wielded a sharper blade.

“Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll” is not rated.  A lot of sex, drugs, four letter words, and some violence will give parents pause in letting young children see it.  Teens will likely find it a dated period piece.

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