Nowell plainly had charm and charisma to burn, and his death was a tragic loss. But Guttentag seems to have little investment in this story, never digging deeper than a dispassionate journeyman director. “This was the beginning of the Breaking Bad-style stuff,” another recalls. “I just can’t work with people who are actively smoking crack,” explains one exasperated collaborator.
Sublime documentary plus#
There are touchingly tender memories of Nowell in Sublime, especially from his widow Troy, plus a few welcome flashes of dark humor, too. Even so, a more thorough documentary might at least have attempted to explore Sublime’s juvenile frat-boy side, and place the band within the broader context of the progressive-minded alt-rock boom spearheaded by Nirvana. Of course, it is unfair to judge the pop culture of yesteryear by 21st century standards, and rock music is rarely very politically correct.
Sublime documentary free#
Their 1995 breakthrough hit “Date Rape” would struggle to get radio play today, while Nowell’s casual misogyny, cultural appropriation and snickering locker-room humor would probably not get the free pass they once did. But Sublime’s lightweight keg-party sing-along anthems never had much wit or subtlety, and they have not aged gracefully. Guttentag shoots most of these talking heads against a bright video backdrop of SoCal street art, an eye-pleasing device which lends some colorful local context to the story.Īlternating between cherubic blond surfer-dude and bloated skinhead bruiser, depending on his drug intake that week, Nowell was blessed with a sweetly soulful voice that one interviewee likens to Marvin Gaye.
Gwen Stefani and her No Doubt cohorts, longtime friends who toured and played with Sublime, also feature prominently alongside fellow Los Angeles ska-punk veterans Fishbone. Besides the singer’s former bandmates Bud Gaugh and Eric Wilson, Guttentag interviews his mother Nancy, sister Kellie and widow Troy. The wayward child of wealthy divorcees, Nowell comes across in the film as a mostly sweet but troubled soul, a college dropout and beach bum whose battle with hard drugs unleashed his darker loose-cannon side. A five-time Oscar nominee with two Academy Award wins to his name - for the documentary shorts You Don’t Have to Die (1989) and Twin Towers (2003) - Guttentag has a long track record of tackling serious social and political issues, which makes him an unlikely choice to direct a rock doc, particularly one about a bunch of weed-smoking, beer-chugging party animals who appear to have lived and died by the Spinal Tap maxim, “Have a good time, all the time.” Which is a perfectly valid lifestyle choice, but not one that lends itself to gripping cinematic treatment.
0 kommentar(er)
