It's almost impossible to imagine a film like this being made nowadays; not only would it be almost impossible to sell a movie without dialogue to any studio, which modern rock star could play the insane antihero at its centre? Justin Timberlake? I think not. [Though thinking about it, Marilyn Manson might be a good choice] As a portrayal of a collapse into insanity, and subsequent redemption (kinda...), it relies too much on simplistic psychology - Pink (Geldof) was over-nurtured and lacked a father figure. So, that makes it alright for him to be a total idiot, then? More successful is the connection drawn between pop music and fascism, all the more relevant nowadays, as we see the host of Britney-clones marching around the mall, and shake our heads in sadness.
Indeed, there's very little in the film that has dated at all, a remarkable feat given the ephemeral nature of music. And the icing on the cake is Gerald Scarfe's amazing, disturbing animation - why did he never get money for a full feature? Oh, yes - because it's amazing and disturbing. It doesn't all work, Parker being too well aware that this is supposed to be Great Art, but there are enough moments when it genuinely is, to paper over the moments of pretension. Also, keep an eye out for a very young Joanne Whalley as one of the groupies. It's pretty much all downhill for you from here, Joanne...
B
