From the daily archives:

Sunday, June 15, 2008

The Last Pogo

The Last Pogo (1978, Director: Colin Brunton): In 1978, I was too young to get into bars, but I was a huge fan of punk rock. Of course, at that young age, I thought it all came from England. It wasn’t until a year or two later that I got into a punk/rockabilly band from Hamilton called Teenage Head. But in 1978, they head­lined a rather infamous gig at The Legendary Horseshoe Tavern on Queen Street West in Toronto. Concert pro­moters Gary Topp and Gary Cormier (“The Two Garys”) were well-known for pro­moting the best new music, and were booking punk bands into the Horseshoe from the begin­ning. But by December 1978, they’d lost the lease and were set to move to a new venue, the Edge. They decided to stage a going-away bash with all their favourite local bands, and The Last Pogo is the visual record of that wild night. Featuring The Scenics, The Cardboard Brains, The Mods, The Ugly, The Viletones, and Teenage Head, it was a legendary show which ended with the cops breaking up a near-riot. The film had not been screened the­at­ric­ally in 30 years, so I was really looking for­ward to the screening (part of the annual North by Northeast Music and Film Festival), and Brunton had prom­ised that sev­eral spe­cial guests would be in attendance.

On my way to the screening, I had to pass by the Much Music stu­dios, which for some unknown reason were sur­rounded by screaming teenage girls. Queen Street was closed off and there was a stage set up as well. Before long, some band of scantily-clad women jumped onstage and sang some for­get­table ditty while shaking their junk in per­fectly cho­reo­graphed time. It was ironic that on my way to see some punk his­tory, I had to be sub­jected to some of the unspeak­able hor­rors of pop­ular music.

I took my seat at the NFB cinema behind a group of rowdy fifty-something punk ladies, who pro­ceeded to hoot and howl all through the film itself. It was rather dis­turbing. The spe­cial guests included Dave Quinton who drummed for The Scenics and later for the Dead Boys, Vince Carlucci from The Cardboard Brains, and a few others, but alas, no one from Teenage Head. And the film itself, though a treas­ured doc­u­ment of the event, proved to be slightly dis­ap­pointing. The reason is that as the con­cert wore on, the club reached and then exceeded its capa­city, and just before Hamilton’s finest took the stage, they were noti­fied that they were only per­mitted to play one song and then the police would be shut­ting the place down. Understandably, the place went nuts, and so the footage from their per­form­ance isn’t the greatest. I even think the audio is out of sync.

Interestingly enough, Teenage Head would be at the centre of another riot a few years later, and for the same reasons. When they played the Ontario Place Forum, hun­dreds of fans were locked out after the venue reached capa­city, and the res­ulting riot caused the man­age­ment of Ontario Place to ban rock con­certs for many years. Luckily, I was pre­pared and had arrived early. It was one of only two times I saw the band live. The other was at my high school, and was for­get­table because in my excite­ment, I’d con­sumed an entire mickey of rye, became sep­ar­ated from my friends, and peed my pants. I was so mor­ti­fied that I ran home, missing most of the show.

In hap­pier news, dir­ector Brunton has spent the past two years filming and editing an expanded ver­sion of the film, to be called The Last Pogo Jumps Again. He’s revis­ited many of the players from that night and I’m eagerly looking for­ward to the film’s release, tent­at­ively planned for Hot Docs 2009. It was also through him that I found out that writer Liz Worth has written what looks to be the defin­itive his­tory of punk in Toronto. Treat Me Like Dirt: An Oral History of Punk in Toronto and Beyond, 1976–1981 should be released this year. I’ve been wanting to write this book since reading Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain’s incred­ible Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk, but at least now I’ll be able to read it.

After the screening, I was hoping there would be a Q&A with the dir­ector and maybe some of the par­ti­cipants, but no such luck. I was able to speak briefly with both Colin Brunton and Liz Worth, and hope to con­duct some short email inter­views with them in the next sev­eral months.

P.S. It seems strange that it was at this very time and place last year that I was seeing Nightclubbing, another doc­u­ment of those years which is being made into a longer ret­ro­spective documentary.

Official site of the film

7/10(7/10)

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Kontroll

by James McNally on June 15, 2008

in DVD

Kontroll

Kontroll (2003, Director: Nimrod Antal): Set entirely within the sub­ter­ranean world of the Budapest subway system, this dir­ect­orial debut is a stylish pas­tiche of a number of dif­ferent genres. It fol­lows the exploits of a team of ticket inspectors headed by Bulcsu, a former archi­tect who ran away from the pres­sures of that life and is now essen­tially trapped under­ground. He even sleeps in the subway, flag­rantly dis­reg­arding the counsel of Petula Clark. His crew is the standard ragtag bunch, stock types who fill out com­edies from Budapest to Boston. There’s the Professor, a “lifer” who knows all the rules, written and unwritten, of the system. Tibor (Tibi) is the rookie, naive and just a bit stupid. Muki is the truly stupid one, a hulking sim­pleton with an unpre­dict­able temper but an equally unpre­dict­able case of nar­co­lepsy. Lastly, there’s Lecsó, a scruffy char­acter who looks like he should be on the other side of the law.

It’s a clever bit of comedy to set these guys up as if they were a group of cops, because that’s essen­tially what they are, except that they pursue per­pet­rators of vic­tim­less crimes. The subway appears to run on the honour system, but there’s no honour. Hardly anyone pays, and if the inspectors ask for a ticket, people just tell them they don’t have one. This par­tic­ular group of inspectors are almost com­pletely inef­fec­tual, but they don’t seem to care that much. They’re con­tent to swap stories and engage in macho con­tests like “railing,” where they race each other through the tun­nels just ahead of the last “express” train each night.

The film’s atmo­sphere is mostly just gritty until we find out that someone has been pushing people in front of trains. Although the mem­bers of our crew really aren’t inter­ested in cap­turing the killer, there’s a sense of the police pro­ced­ural that drives the nar­rative for­ward. Here the director’s style really takes advantage of the set­ting. Underground tun­nels in Budapest have a gothic creep­i­ness that New York’s or Toronto’s would never have, and I found myself thinking about vam­pires. In fact, it’s half-comical and half-frightening that our main char­acter Bulcsu seems to be bleeding in almost every scene. And he never sees day­light. Hmm…

Toward the end, the film takes a turn into psy­cho­lo­gical thriller ter­ritory, with mixed res­ults. It seemed like the dir­ector wasn’t quite sure what type of film he wanted to make, so he made all of them. It’s an under­stand­able weak­ness in a debut film, but Antal shows he can create some­thing both enter­taining and a bit artistic within some very tight constraints.

Official site of the film (English version)

Purchase the DVD from Amazon.com
Purchase the DVD from Amazon.ca

7/10(7/10)

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