Tonight's entry is something of a departure from the usual seasonal horrific fare,a lost cinematic portrait of a moment in popular British culture of the late sixties,so often talked and written about,but rarely seen,especially on the big screen.Born from the cult of the war-time parka wearing,Italian scooter riding mods of the early to mid-sixties,who'd made their name devouring amphetamine pills,dancing to soul and reggae in the halls,and fighting the leather-clad rockers on the beach at bank holiday,the skinheads were the next big youth craze in jolly old E.Though the originals splintered off into new cults nearly as fast as they had appeared,the style of cropped hair,Doc Marten boots,braces,and Levi's jeans would never fully fade from the public eye,with periods of resurgence during the late seventies and early eighties bringing the cult worldwide.Platt-Mills' seldom seen East End take on Romeo and Juliet would offer one of the few fleeting glances into the phenomenon,with a cast of bovver boy non-actors in all the main roles.Despite my obvious attachment to such a flick,I'd never gotten a chance to see it until a pricey region 2 dvd finally turned up several years ago.Once I'd been set back nearly forty bucks,and popped the disc into my trusty Daewoo All-World player(R.I.P.),I could finally make (shaved)heads or tails of the production I'd heard and read so much about for years prior.
Let me just state for the record,that though the cult of the sixties may not have yet grown into the headline-grabbing politically charged nightmare that it would become in its later incarnations,it certainly wasn't the multi-racial harmonious fairytale that today's left would have you believe,judging by the accompanying "making of" documentary interviews with nicotine-stained street urchins who brag on camera about noising up "Sambos" in between tearing through a theater wardrobe.Interpret that how you like,folks.The soundtrack was provided by then-unknown Brit progressive/psychedelic unit,Audience,who went on to open for Led Zeppelin,and release four excellent albums.Desmond Dekker must have been all booked up.
"Ya don' unnerstan',do ya? Rik is dead. The people's poet is dead!"
Del(Del Walker)is a teenaged welder's assistant in the east end of London who looks like a shaggy young Pete Townsend and dreams of bigger things with his mates,Roy(Roy Haywood)and Chris(Chris Shepherd...anyone noticing a trend with these names?),even if they're only slightly bigger than their current extracurriculars,which consist of getting into bovver with rival gangs,sneaking into the cinema free through the fire exit,and nicking cakes from the cafe that they frequent.That's right.Cakes.The Krays these lads ain't.Now,Bronco Bullfrog(Sam Shepherd),'e's a different story altogether,innit 'e?The subject of the boys admiration,Bronco's a thieving skinhead what just escaped from borstal,and when the lads relate their petty criminality to him at the cafe,he busts up laughing at the thought,before offering them a shot at bigger nuts to crack with him and an older geezer.In the meanwhile,Del's graduated from looking at naked pin up birds on the clubhouse wall to a girlfriend by the name of Irene(Anne Gooding,the name streak's over)whose parents are a little iffy on her latest booted-suitor and his new motorbike,what 'is dad helped him pay for.And for all Del's dad knows,this girl could be Italian(she should be so lucky!).Del and Irene quickly find that their road to romance is paved with numerous,annoying roadblocks.On a movie date up west,they find that the cinema prices are too dear to pay,so they have a burger instead.
These lads could stand to do some of that ooooold moonstompin' over to a well-oiled pair of clippers.Just sayin'.
After a trip to the seaside and a visit to one of Del's relatives in hopes of settling down together and finding work proves fruitless,Irene's mom enlists the local constabulary,who happen to be investigating a recent theft(that Del was in on),and the brutal kicking of one of Del's mates,who's been hospitalized.The tragic couple seek refuge at Bronco's flat,which is littered with stolen merch that he hasn't been able to unload,but these sawdust caesars aren't in it for the money,as much as the adrenaline rush that comes with committing the crimes.Even here,they can't seem to find any alone time,as space disallows them sleeping quarters of their own,and they're forced to kip in the same room as Bronco.Can't win for losing sometimes.With the walls closing in on Del-boy,he surmizes that they would be better off returning home,with potential child abduction charges looming over his head on top of all the other mess.She's unhappy with the prospect,but willing to comply,when one of the cops stumbles upon the criminal enterprise's HQ/teen love nest,which earns him a right good one in the 'blockos,buying the three time just enough for narrow escape.They briefly converse about future plans,then part ways on the run.A happy ending of sorts,as Del's finally got that excitement he's been looking for.
Now that's what I call,some serious loitering up against a wall.
The film enjoyed a theatrical re-release in Britain a few years back,but I can't see more than the external fringes of the arthouse crowd turning out in any numbers for it.Try to imagine a poor man's Guy Ritchie's Snatch(2001) without the snappy dialogue,as delivered by one dimensional east ender teenagers that couldn't act their way through an order of fish n' chips.Your patience will be stretched through long periods of fuck all,and when something does happen,you can bet a dollar to a bag of fucking diddy donuts that it won't be carried out convincingly.The score is amazing,but there's a soundtrack cd available now for that,so be forewarned:If any of this sounds fractionally interesting to you,or you're a big girl's blouse over historical British youth subcultures,then you'll want to hunt this down.Chances are,you'd be better served spending the evening with the work of Alan Clarke,"Made in Britain" and "Scum" would make an exquisite double feature.For your humble N,this whole Bullfrog business was a long time coming,and paints a bleak black and white working class slice of life,which is never half-bad,and for that,it boots in the shop window,and nicks two wops on the rating scale.
Probably my favorite moment in the entire film.
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