American Hardcore is a relatively thorough examination of the hardcore punk movement in this country from 1980 through 1986. Set against Reagan's 50's vision of the 1980's, these bands from SoCal to Vancouver, Minneapolis to New York, D.C. to Boston channeled their youthful rage into an industrial buzzsaw angst that politicized American homogeneity, and paved the way for the triumph of Nirvana and the "alternative nation" of the nineties.
Paul Rachman's documentary, based on Steven Blush's book American Hardcore: A Tribal History, plays a lot like the music sounds: lo-fi, blurry, energetic, confused, and often very funny. A lot of screen time is given to two of the best bands from the movement SoCal's Black Flag and D.C.'s Bad Brains but the live performance clips, most of them from lo-tech sources, don't give the lockstep rhythms and passionate intensity of the music its due. The grungy footage is distant, historical; it places a gauze around the chaos of the time. Considered in perspective, too many of the bands sound similar, the effect monochromatic and, ultimately, uninteresting. Which is too bad, because many of the major players from that period the two mentioned above, as well as Flipper, Minor Threat and Hüsker Dü left behind seminal work. If the filmmakers could have used snippets of the actual recordings, the movie might have been more cohesive and involving, and envisioned the next phase of this endlessly regenerating culture.
Documentaries, regardless of subject, should expand their subject. American Hardcore often feels as insular as the underground community of dissenters it features. But for music lovers who should include this subgenre on their list of interests it's refreshing to be reminded how technical expertise and craft can pale in the face of true passion.
Paul Rachman's documentary, based on Steven Blush's book American Hardcore: A Tribal History, plays a lot like the music sounds: lo-fi, blurry, energetic, confused, and often very funny. A lot of screen time is given to two of the best bands from the movement SoCal's Black Flag and D.C.'s Bad Brains but the live performance clips, most of them from lo-tech sources, don't give the lockstep rhythms and passionate intensity of the music its due. The grungy footage is distant, historical; it places a gauze around the chaos of the time. Considered in perspective, too many of the bands sound similar, the effect monochromatic and, ultimately, uninteresting. Which is too bad, because many of the major players from that period the two mentioned above, as well as Flipper, Minor Threat and Hüsker Dü left behind seminal work. If the filmmakers could have used snippets of the actual recordings, the movie might have been more cohesive and involving, and envisioned the next phase of this endlessly regenerating culture.
Documentaries, regardless of subject, should expand their subject. American Hardcore often feels as insular as the underground community of dissenters it features. But for music lovers who should include this subgenre on their list of interests it's refreshing to be reminded how technical expertise and craft can pale in the face of true passion.