Rude Boy

This intriguing film blurs the line between documentary and reality much in the way 60's classics such as "Medium Cool" do. The story (when it's allowed to tell itself) of the drunken directionless punk is sad, charming and wild. I can see why the Clash disowned the film. It shows how they merely reflect the showbiz side of the struggles of the working class in England. When Ray attempts to tell Mick Jones how much "Stay free" means to him, he is shrugged off with a " I'm watching you." We see Ray being consumed by his own nihilstic rage while the clash use it up to the point of making good pop music with it.

I was torn about what rating to give this as it's not without it's merits. The film works as a time capsule of late 70's Britain with real life footage of National Front protests and anti-fascist counter protesters clashing with police. The concert footage of the Clash in action is undoubtedly the highlight. As a narrative led film it's kind of all over the place. Ganges unsympathetic main character fails to hold the viewers interest. He basically wanders the film in an alchoholic haze, can in hand. His character is utterly useless in his capacity as a roadie for the band and leads to some continuity confusion when two other roadie characters are talking about him as though he's gone yet the next scene has him still there. The sub story about a group of black youths falling foul of the law which seems to have no connection to the main Clash story is puzzling as well. It appears to be a critique of police harassment of black urban youth yet the featured characters are actually portrayed as engaging in criminal activity so it kind of misses the point.

One of the flattest movies I have ever seen. Mostly a collection of drab, long takes following around a young prick who joins The Clash as a roadie, does a bad job, then wanders around drunk, making tactless, muddled comments about race, the band's politics, and what he wants to do with his life. Dull, disjointed, quiet lines punctuate long silences; even the live performances of The Clash fail to give the movie much energy, due to poor sound design that cuts off absolutely all crowd noise and brings down the volume of the songs, so that most of them end up sounding like drab demo tapes.

The film is mainly a plotless mess. When it does focus on the main character, all we see is a buffoon stuttering out inarticulate and unwelcome comments to roadies and band members who hate him but just try to ignore him. Whatever the character study of this guy hopes to achieve, it has absolutely nothing to do with The Clash, whose music and politics are not examined at all -- they are simply seen as some rock group the 'rude boy' is following around and who get some concert footage in the picture. In the last twenty minutes we also get meaningless cutaways to political party conferences and to a black youth who has not been in the movie before, has no connection to any of the previously seen characters, and who is undergoing criminal charges for something which is never made clear.

Seeing this movie is tempting for Clash fans -- we want to see what the project is about, and we want to see the concert footage -- but it's an irrelevant, static mishmash that gives those in the audience a lot of time to scratch their heads.

Read Marcus Gray's The Last Gang in Town.... I watched the film a couple of times, like other contributors, with many questions in my head about what it was really about, how much The Clash co-operated with it, why the film is presented in the way it is, who on Earth Ray Gange is...

This book clears up those questions... The film is flawed, but as a document of the times, and especially the power of The Clash as a live band (there's not any better footage of them around - although they overdubbed the live tracks).... What a band...

It is genuinely difficult to work out where the drama ends and the documentary takes over. When I sat down to watch it I had no idea whether Ray, the fan who becomes a roadie, was an actor or the genuine article. The stilted nature of some of the conversations, and self-conscious grins accompanying them, indicate contrivance, but it's as if real conversations are being reproduced for the camera. Only afterwards did I discover that Ray Gange was acting and had written the script.

The film provides an insight into the world of punk rock in the late seventies. The Clash were more musically adept, and more politically aware, than most punk bands of the era, but the rebellious swaggers and the anger were typical enough. The concert footage is entertaining, and only marred by the fact that much is filmed from the back of the stage. It features much of the band's best material, from White Riot to Tommy Gun to London's Burning.

This is a nostalgic treat for old punk rockers, and a useful introduction for those who, in the late 70s, were too young or allowed punk rock to pass them by.