New York Doll

Religious conversion stories are often dreadfully boring to all but fellow believers. Too often they are tales of interesting lives of despair lifted by a higher power to lives of less-than-fascinating virtue. I don't mean to imply criticism of epiphanies in any form. But it is an axiom of sectarian movie marketing that the religiously inclined will tolerate the blandest of cinema if packaged faithfully, and that's often what they get.

I was expecting more of the same when I heard about New York Doll at Sundance last year. This is the story of Arthur "Killer" Kane, bass player for the legendary New York Dolls rock 'n roll band of the '70's. For those that didn't follow the pop music scene back then, the Dolls were one of the hardest-edged, most controversial groups of their era. Forerunners of the punk movement, they paraded in drag and set the stage for later bands such as The Sex Pistols, The B-52's and The Clash.

Like so many other punk bands, the Dolls fell victim to excesses and addiction. Kane, known for his "killer" bass lines, was sometimes too drunk to perform, and would simply stand on-stage with a bass around his neck while a roadie filled in for him. (However, since Kane was known for his wooden posture on stage, it may have been hard to tell whether he was really playing or not!) After a meteoric four years, the Dolls dissolved and Kane drifted into alcoholism and obscurity, only reclaiming his life with his 1989 conversion to Mormonism and work at the LDS Family History Center in Los Angeles.

But despite his discovered spirituality, he always harbored the desire for the band to reunite and play again. His seemingly impossible dream was realized in 2004, when Morrissey (The Smiths) engineered a reunion of the Dolls for the London Meltdown Festival.

Director Greg Whitely crafts a warm and engaging story set to this strange juxtaposition. Kane is an intriguing personality—simple, friendly and honest, he talks wistfully of his days of drugs, sex and rock and roll ("some of my fondest memories," he says) yet never wavers from his commitment to his Mormon faith. Interspersed in the reunion story are thoughts on Kane from Mormon co-workers and religious leaders as well as punk rockers Morrissey, Sir Bob Geldof (of Boomtown Rats and then Live Aid fame), Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders, Iggy Pop and others.

But the drama is the reunion itself. Two of the Dolls died in the early 90's, leaving Kane, guitarist Sylvain Sylvain and singer David Johansen. Of the three, Johansen found the most success post-Dolls, both as an actor as well as singing under the alter-ego Buster Poindexter (remember "Hot, Hot, Hot"?). Kane resented Johansen for nearly three decades, and the tension is palpable when the singer arrives (over a day late) for rehearsals. While time and hard living have clearly slowed, humbled and mellowed Kane, in contrast Johansen comes across like Mick Jagger—a youthful glam rocker in a craggy-faced, 50-year-old body. While Kane appears non-plussed by the experience, Johansen is still energized by the spotlight.

What is truly touching is how they resolve their differences, rekindle their relationship and develop mutual respect. Kane tries to explain his religion to a bemused Johansen, including the Mormon principal of tithing—"It's like an agent's fee," he explains. "It's only 10 percent. It's a pretty good deal." New York Doll is a well-executed and compassionate documentary that will warm the hearts of faithful and heathen alike. Whitely clearly cares deeply for Arthur Kane, who seems to have touched the lives of everyone—even those from the Dolls' era. And it's impossible not to like Kane, who is so sincerely grateful for his good fortune—his past, his faith and his chance to once again be a New York Doll. This is a tender story with a bittersweet ending, which I won't give away. I will tell you to keep watching as the credits roll, because there's a song you won't want to miss.

First, I confess that I never "got" The New York Dolls.

Second, this is one of the best documentaries I have ever seen.

The film is a bittersweet, understated but fascinating portrayal of Arthur Kane, the one-time degenerate New York Doll bass player turned Mormon, as he prepares for a reunion concert with his former band mates, and, as it turns out, a far more important gig. The filmmaker treats all of the subjects(including Morrissey, David Johanssen, numerous LDS members, the LDS Church itself, and most of all, Kane) with dignity and respect, and without judgment. The film's unstated message of tolerance and understanding makes this worth watching by all.

What an enchanting little slice of wish-fulfillment cinema -- I love, love, love it. The thing is, this is not a saccharine Hollywood screenplay, Disneyfied for your viewing pleasure -- it is a real-life fairy tale inhabited by defiant glam rockers and blessed with a glorious racket of a soundtrack. Quirky, charming Arthur Kane guilelessly lays out his life for our examination -- his brief, joyous days of fame, fortune, and fabulous platform boots; his years of remorse and despair, boozing amid the ruins of youthful dreams; the healing peace of his newfound faith; and finally his giddy return to the beginning, as he finds himself in leather pants once again, this time viewing his fame and friendships with a wisdom, humor, and gratitude dearly bought over long years of struggle and spiritual redemption.

He is not so very remarkable, really, and that is what sets this piece apart from rockumentaries and gives it a warmth and depth that is lacking in that worshipful genre. Though he spent years living as a rock god, Arthur knows at age 55 that his long-ago life of fame was a gift, not an entitlement, and that he squandered it. Every audience member with a regret becomes invested in Arthur's story. He speaks frankly of his gratitude to God for lifting his sights and hopes again, but admits that the past haunts him even so. That mixture of peace and aching rings true and keeps this film human and honest even as we trail behind him, wide-eyed, watching him stumble gleefully on old joys and bravely confront his demons. There is a contented, bemused look in his eyes as he basks in the happiness of his reunion with friend and bandmate David Johansen while simultaneously parrying David's playful jabs at the finer points of Arthur's conservative Mormon faith. Gone is the glazed, drunken stare of his early days -- he now knows who he is and what he has and drinks every last drop with sober joy.

I take it back -- Arthur is really QUITE remarkable. Not because he and his friends were the toast of New York and London twice in one lifetime, but because he learns to see things as they really are, whether standing at the bottom of the heap or at the top -- an achievement that is easily as rare as rock and roll fame.

New York Doll is a winsome, moving film, and every time I think of it, it makes me smile.

This is easily one of the most extraordinary documentaries I have ever seen, and I've seen more than a few. In fact I have rated thousands of films on IMDb, and New York Doll happens to be 1 of only 15 films I have given a full 10 rating. First off, this documentary is done the way a documentary is suppose to be done. It is completely observatory. It does not try to make you believe something, or sway your opinion this way or that way. It has a refreshing integrity throughout. After watching NY Doll, I couldn't help but feel that this film in itself seems like such a fateful occurrence. An independent amateur filmmaker happens to stumble into the well aged Arthur 'Killer' Kane, former member of the raucous and raunchy 1970's glam/punk rock act, the New York Dolls. He finds that Arthur misses the days of rock n' roll fame and mischief, but now has a totally new and simple life in which he has found some sort of solace in a new faith in God. What follows upon their collaboration is hard to express fully in words. It must be seen, but it seems as though the filmmaker and the subject met each other at the perfect time. Arthur's journey here in is one so honest, so human, that I found it almost impossible to not get emotionally choked up over, even after repeat viewings; And it is a rare event when I get choked up over a film. This is an absolute must see if you like human stories. If you like movies or documentaries at all, it's a must see. It doesn't matter if you don't believe in God, or even if you don't know who the hell the New York Dolls are. It doesn't even matter if you like rock music. See the film, thank me later.

If I'm acting like a king / Well that's cause, I'm a Human Being / And If I want too many things / Don't you know that, I'm a Human Being / And if I've got to dream / Baby baby yeah, I'm a Human Being

10/10

I watched "New York Doll" with intense fascination and moment by moment trepidation, wondering at what point the staunch beliefs of the Mormon church would clash with the life of former rock star Arthur "Killer" Kane. To my utter surprise, as reflected by the "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" performance by David Johansen (which is one of the most brilliant juxtapositions ever in music), the empathetic sensitivities of Kane's rocker friends to his conversion to the church and the church's non-judgmental support of his life and dream of reuniting with "his friends" revealed a natural symbiosis I never thought I would see. It has literally renewed my faith in people!