“Suburbia” (1983) dir. Penelope Spheeris

Before director Penelope Spheeris entered the Hollywood mainstream with “Wayne’s World” and “The Beverly Hillbillies,”  she directed the seminal punk and metal documentaries “The Decline of Western Civilization Parts 1 and 2”  and also directed “Suburbia,” a punk melodrama for legendary exploitation producer Roger Corman in 1983.  Corman has always had a knack for recognizing filmmaking talent and gave Spheeris a lot of leeway in making “Suburbia” as long as she delivered plenty of action, violence, and nudity (including a church riot homage to Corman’s biker classic from the 1960s, “The Wild Angels”).

“Suburbia” delivers plenty of action, violence and nudity, but with a couple of exceptions, most of the people appearing in the film were actual punks she ran into and cast in the film (including a pre-Red Hot Chili Pepper’s Flea, billed as Mike B. the Flea in the credits, in a pivotal supporting role).  This isn’t the slickest film in the world by any means, but while the kids engage in a lot of anti-social behavior, the film is obviously and overwhelmingly on their side, sympathizes tremendously with their troubled backgrounds, and is easily one of the best and heartfelt punk films ever made.

One of the best moviegoing memories from my youth was seeing “Suburbia’ in a packed midnight screening (with an audience full of mohawks and trenchcoats) with a good friend of mine and my friend’s Dad, who attended the screening with us since me and my friend were not legally able to drive.  The audience went completely nuts at the beginning of the film, when the wild dog attacks a toddler (one of the worst mannequin substitutes I’ve ever seen in any idiom), which isn’t funny, but kind of is in the context of the film and the audience.  My friend’s Dad (who, at the time, was roughly about my age now) took the film in stride, enjoyed himself, and later compared the film to “Rebel Without a Cause” on the ride home, which he highly recommended to us.  While I later saw “Rebel” and thought it a much superior film, I have a really soft spot in my heart for “Suburbia.”   It’s too bad Spheeris hasn’t made too many films recently.  A vastly underrated filmmaking talent.

“The Bed” – Lou Reed

OK, if you’re even nominally depressed or down emotionally, please do not listen to this or watch this clip.  “The Bed” is from Lou Reed’s legendary downer of an album from 1973, “Berlin.”  “Berlin” was recorded after Reed achieved commercial success with “Walk on the Walk Side”  and almost 40 years later, is still considered one of the most perverse commercial moves in a major artist’s career. “Berlin” was produced by Bob Ezrin, the producing genius behind Alice Cooper’s brilliant early albums/singles and later, Pink Floyd’s downer masterpiece from 1979 “The Wall.”  “Berlin” is a tale of the downward spiral relationship between two meth junkies (Jim and Caroline), one of whom (Caroline) also seems to be mentally ill.  If anything, “Berlin” makes “The Wall” sound upbeat in its despairing view of humanity and the depths people can sink in their own self-destruction.  “Berlin” was dismissed as a perverse joke by some critics at the time, a maudlin wallowing in misery by others.  There was talk over the years of mounting a stage production of “Berlin,”, but poor sales and negative reviews of the album halted these ideas.

However, despite the bad state Reed was in when he recorded this album, the songwriting and production of “Berlin” are quite brilliant, and almost 40 years later, the album really holds up.  Reed (over 25 years sober) finally achieved his dream of performing the album in its entirety with a 30-piece orchestra and choir in 2007, which was brilliantly captured by Oscar-nominated director Julian Schnabel in the 2008 film “Lou Reed’s Berlin,” well worth checking out if you’re a fan of Reed, Schnabel, or Ezrin.

“Last Days Here” (2012) dir. Don Argott & Demian Fenton

One of the most disturbing, poignant, and oddly inspiring films I’ve seen this year is the documentary “Last Days Here.”  It’s about Bobby Liebling, the lead singer of 1970s doom metal pioneers Pentagram, who were considered the missing link between Led Zeppelin and the Sex Pistols back in the day.  They came close to the brass ring a couple of times, but never made it, despite having a huge cult following over the last 30-40 years.  The documentary opens showing Bobby at the absolute bottom of drug addiction (heroin, crack, and meth), living in his parent’s basement.  He’s in his 50s, but looks like he’s in his 80s.  The tale of how he pulls himself up from the bottom (with the help of a new manager and superfan named Sean Pelletier) is nothing short of amazing.  Mainly because most people in Bobby’s condition never pull themselves out.  If you’ve ever known someone like Bobby and seen what typically happens with someone in his shape, Bobby’s transformation is miraculous. The denouement is absolutely astonishing and if it doesn’t bring a tear to your eye, you’re not human.  While a part of you may cynically surmise “Yeah … let’s see where Bobby is a few years from now,” one could easily say the same thing about me, you, or anyone you know.  Seriously, at my age, I’ve seen enough curveballs thrown my way (and towards others I know) that you never know where real life will lead you, even if you do all the right things.  And if anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s Bobby.    Bobby, wherever you are, best of luck to you and your family!

It’s available on Netflix streaming, so what are you waiting for?

“Thief” (1981) dir. Michael Mann

Michael Mann’s 1981 heist thriller “Thief” is not only one of the best crime movies of all time, it’s also one of the most influential.  Watching it nowadays, you can see where Mann tried out a lot of things that would later become de rigeur on “Miami Vice” (which Mann produced), but it’s not quite as flashy.  “Thief” is unapologetically blue collar.  The movie has many stunning and intense scenes (including some heavy graphic violence towards the end).  However, for me, this nearly 10-minute dialogue sequence between James Caan and Tuesday Weld is the best scene in the movie.  Here’s some setup:  Caan’s character has spent most of his adult life in prison.  Since he’s gotten out, he’s become an extremely successful safecracker and thief (with a few successful legitimate businesses that act as fronts for his illegal activity).  He has a lot of money and material possessions, but he also wants the kind of life “regular” people have, meaning marriage and a family.   He senses something in Tuesday Weld’s character that he feels is on his wavelength.  You see, Weld’s character too has a past, a shady one she’s trying to forget, even if it now means doing something mundane.  Caan’s character, in his clumsy, but direct way, is trying to kickstart his future and take a chance with someone he feels will understand and take the same emotional risk he is.  He guesses correctly.

“Neon Slime” – Wings Hauser (from the 1982 film “Vice Squad” dir. Gary Sherman)

Yes, this song sounds more than a little ridiculous, except that I really, really love it.  It’s the perfect theme song for one of the craziest, sleaziest films ever made, Gary Sherman’s 1982 film “Vice Squad.”  Wings Hauser, who plays a sadistic pimp named Ramrod (is that a great villain name or what?!?), contributes this gem of an opening song, written by Simon Stokes, previously featured on Dave’s Strange World with his angry senior citizen anthem “Hey You”.

If I ever become a professional recording artist, I want to do a cover of this song as my first single.  The video would feature me in a blonde jheri-curl wig and black Members Only jacket shrieking this song to some Traci Lords look-a-like in spandex.

Trivia note:  Back in the day, Martin Scorsese said that “Vice Squad” should have been nominated for several Academy Awards that year.  He liked the movie so much that he got into a screaming match with his then-girlfriend, Paramount studio executive Dawn Steel, over the merits of the film at a Hollywood party.

Here’s the brilliant under-one minute trailer I remember seeing when I was 12 years old:

“Strangers” – The Kinks (with scenes from “The Darjeeling Limited” dir. Wes Anderson)

Next to “Celluloid Heroes,” “Strangers” is my favorite Kinks song.  It was the song I always came back to on thier 1970 album “Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround.”  The song was effectively used in Wes Anderson’s 2007 film “The Darjeeling Limited” and the YouTube video is a montage of scenes from the film set to this song.   A beautiful song.

“Being There” (1979) dir. Hal Ashby

What can I say?  I’m in a very Hal Ashby mood tonight.  This is director Hal Ashby’s last great film, a wonderful adaptation of Jerzy Kosinski’s 1970 novella about a simpleton who is  mistaken for a genius and the next great hope of the American political system.  Peter Sellers in his last terrific performance (a performance for which he should have won the Oscar … seriously, Dustin Hoffman for “Kramer vs. Kramer”?) plays the idiot savant Chance the Gardner, mistaken for Chauncey Gardiner, genius intellectual.  This almost made my Top 10 films of all time, but I think I hesitated, because in a weird way, I identify with Chance.  I don’t think I’m particularly smart, but somehow, I not only got into a top university (without the credentials of a connected family), but got into a fully-funded Master’s program as well, and a Doctoral program.  The payback?  My current job, which is decent, but let’s just say I’m not exactly setting the world on fire.  There’s no such thing as a free lunch and your limitations will catch up with you, no matter what fancy words you drizzle on top of your mediocrity.  Fortunately, you don’t quite get to see this in “Being There,” so it remains, prime intellectual entertainment you don’t have to be smart to enjoy.  This is everything “Forrest Gump” wanted to be, but wasn’t.  And while I actually like “Forrest Gump,” “Being There” smokes it on every level.

“Trouble” – Cat Stevens from the 1971 film “Harold and Maude” dir. Hal Ashby

One of the best uses of pop music in film history, this montage set to Cat Stevens’s “Trouble” from Hal Ashby’s “Harold and Maude” is sad and brilliant.  I remember seeing “Harold and Maude” multiple times on cable TV during the summer of 1983 and was always struck by how effectively Cat Stevens’s songs were used in the context of the film.   While many films have since aped its use of pop music to drive the plot of a story, this was one of the first and still one of the best.

“The Ballad of Lucy Jordan” – Marianne Faithfull

Like Johnny Cash’s cover of Nine Inch Nails’s “Hurt,” this is a case where a cover transcends the original by a tremendous degree based solely on the pathos of the singer’s life experience.  Faithfull covered this song (written by Shel Silverstein, but originally recorded by Dr. Hook ?!?) at roughly the same age of the song’s protagonist. It’s a tremendous performance, especially given Faithfull’s troubled life prior to covering this song. Used to great effect in the film “Thelma and Louise.”

“Hurt” – Johnny Cash

I can’t add anything to what’s already been said about this cover or this video, directed by Mark Romanek. It’s the very definition of the old saying “It’s the singer, not the song.” To say this is the greatest music video ever made is damning with faint praise. It’s actually one of the best films ever made, of any length. And if you watch this with a dry eye, you have no soul.