Henry Rollins

  • The Decline of Western Civilization (1981)

    The Decline of Western Civilization (1981)

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) In retrospect, even mildly successful documentaries can be ennobled by the passage of time if they capture something that can no longer be experienced in later years. In this light, The Decline of Western Civilization is a much better documentary now than it was at its release because its insider’s look at the 1980 Los Angeles punk scene is now the stuff of legend, never again to be recreated. To be clear, The Decline of Western Civilization was never a bad movie: much of what it chronicles, in between generous concert footage and revealing interviews with various punk scene members, was under-covered at the time. Director Penelope Spheeris (best known for Wayne’s World) was a member of the scene at the time, and was able to use her friendships to set up the interviews and film the performances. The result is a document for the ages – a good punk anthology, complemented by a description of the scene by the scene members themselves. I’m not that familiar with punk nor any of the bands here (although I do recognize Black Flag, even if that’s more due to the later presence of Henry Rollins than anything else) but I had a good time listening to much of The Decline of Western Civilization while doing something else.

  • Jackass: The Movie (2002)

    Jackass: The Movie (2002)

    (Netflix Streaming, August 2018) Doing dumb dangerous stuff has always been the prerogative of young males since times immemorial, and it’s in that spirit that Jackass: The Movie is best appreciated. Here we have a few young men (no women except for moms—this is probably significant) doing harmful and/or stupid activities while being filmed, ranging from elaborate stunts (ah, that giant shopping cart!) to simpler cringe-inducing things such as deliberate paper cuts. Some of it takes place in Tokyo, worsening international relations. The film as a whole anticipates (or perhaps caused) the whole YouTube “let’s film ourselves pranking and stunting” craze, making it somewhat less unique than it was back then. I’m not saying that the film is without its highlights—watching Henry Rollins laughing at the misery he inflicts on the cast is a bit of wishful thinking, and the ending sequence does get a laugh or two—but a lot of it is simply discomfort comedy without much point. The flurry of short segments—55 of them in 85 minutes—means that there’s always something else coming up, for better or for worse. There were a few sequels to Jackass: The Movie, but all appear redundant after sitting through the first film.