after seeing John Lydon break down over the senseless exploitation of sid vicious when he absolutely hit bottom in Temple's other sex pistols film "The Filth and the Fury," he must have wanted to disown this little piece of trashy lucre. the finale with its spinning headlines and the anka-fueled massacre are just the tips of the iceberg on the meaty, excessive collage film assembled here.
the star on board is mclaren, in full sleazeball form. to the unsuspecting eye, it seems like an act. it is, of course, until you realize that it's the same act he kept up in the public eye for years, while running his little pet project dry. mclaren cut his teeth on theater of the absurd and fancies his managerial life a kind of kaufman-esque performance. the only problem is that mclaren often-times does not have the consent of his lab rats, a bunch of naughty British hooligans that called themselves the sex pistols (no, mclaren did NOT come up with the name).
therefore, it's partially amusing to watch mclaren credit himself with inventing the wheel in punk rock, and partially disgusting when you approach the subject matter knowing he gave nary a shat about the well-being of his bandmates nor the political and social commentary they, especially rotten, were trying to convey. mclaren was more interested in assembling a forefather to reality TV- life as nihilistic, self-imploding art.
the movie itself is not much. there's laughs here and there, but mostly it's a bloated and deadweight companion piece to "The Filth and the Fury," mostly wound into watchability by excellent live performances and some bizarre visual interpretations of songs (some of which seem hardly composed on a punk rock budget). "who killed bambi" (also mclaren's idea with none of the band members really interested in the idea) shows up in several parts and proves to be a quite pointless endeavor.
the majority of punk rock was not known for its rock star exploits off the stage (in fact, that was kinda the point- that these werent rock stars at all). if there had to have been a band to make a boisterous film with sex and drugs and midgets and animation and disco dancing, it's probably best that it was the sex pistols. overall, this film should be mostly reserved for hardcore fans, though others may find value in the sheer novelty of the package. but do yourself a favor and see "filth" first.
