Performance
The benefits of artistic expression can be many, whether it be to expunge or exorcize personal demons in a palatable form, to make a statement on the societal ills of the time in which you live, and perhaps most of all, to look deep within oneself to seek out maybe even the darkest corners of oneās own soul in order to answer the eternal questions of how and why. In the cinematic art form, the third option remains the most intriguing but yet the least attempted, at least not overtly, but this alternately wondrous and frustrating work filmed in 1968 but not released until 1970 (due to the use of allegedly pornographic sex scenes that needed severe editing) is probably the most notable example of it being achieved successfully, based of course on the personal preference of each individual viewer. It certainly features an eclectic assortment of talent on hand: Co Director Donald Cammell was a successful painter turned filmmaker who spent the rest of his life after this working on one unrealized project after another (usually with Marlon Brando involved) before committing suicide in 1996. The other Co Director, Nicholas Roeg, had a substantially more successful career, directing a number of unique classics including Donāt Look Now and Insignificance. Co Leading Man James Fox was one of the rising stars of British cinema and one of the most respectable character actors of all time. And the filmās other main star was none other than Mick Jagger, lead singer of The Rolling Stones and a legend at his craft in every way imaginable. The film explored themes of creativity and identity deconstruction in such a way that has never been seen before or since, with its initial first cut preview screening resulting in an executiveās wife actually vomiting from the intensity of the imagery resulting in a massive amount of cuts required by the studio. The first 30 to 40 minutes play out not unlike that of a Guy Ritchie British gangster movie (reportedly some cut scenes came at the āsuggestionā of infamous London twin brother crime lords The Krays for hitting just a little bit too close to home) complete with a betrayal between two lifelong friends, several beatings in the name of extortion, and a perverted homosexual pedophile crime boss who prefers his intimate consorts to be young, shy and male, but already at this point the directors employ a fast cutting, drug trip style of storytelling to portray possibly the headlong rush that a life steeped in violence can bring to you. Among this decadence we meet Chas (Fox), a rising star in the gangster world for his taciturn, no nonsense style of being a badass enforcer for the syndicate. But when things go bad and the boss decides that Chas is now better off dead, he decides to flee to the first place that he can find to lay low, a room for rent at the spacious home of reclusive, retired rock star Turner (Jagger). Knowing right off the bat that Turner (a self proclaimed bohemian hedonist) prefers to have his wards be those of an artistic nature, Chas dyes his hair red and claims to have worked as a juggler. Turner is immediately dubious, finally allowing him to stay at his place along with the two females who live there with him (Anita Pallenberg and Michele Breton) as well as an unusual little girl (Laraine Wickens) who acts as a sort of servant for them. And also knowing full well that as a straight laced, suit and tie gangster that he must fit in with these more alternative types in order to survive, Chas willingly partakes in both drug use and sex with the girls all while he and Turner play subtle little mindgames with each other in their newly formed coexistence, with the question becoming whether either the hermit like rock star (clearly living in his own happy little world which is his entire domain) can manage to set the desperate gangster āfreeā so to speak, or if instead the gangster will wind up putting the rock star in the same line of fire from his former employers that he himself is trying so hard to avoid. The themes of identity crisis and ultimately the breaking down of oneās own self image play heavily into all of this, with the irony being that Fox himself in real life would have his own breakdown of sorts after filming the movie, leaving the acting world for a number of years to recover and look deep within his own soul before reemerging as a Christian based actor in his own right. Thereās certainly the idea of transmogrification brought into the mix (especially towards the end), as when Turner finally does figure out that his new boarder is actually a gangster in hiding (after finding his guns and ammo), he realizes that Chasā many past acts of violence in their own way qualify as a kind of performance art, and as he has a bit of an obsession with pushing the envelope as far as it can go (with his belief that the ultimate performances are those that border on literal insanity for both artist and viewer), he comes to realize that his own legendary rock star performances really amount to nothing next to what this man of violence has carried out on many, many occasions. But try to break him free he still does, or at least tries to, with his credo of āNothing is real. Everything is permitted.ā Obviously there are a lot of interesting ideas being bandied about here, many of which sadly do not get realized to their full potential, but it cannot be denied that both Jagger and Fox are perfectly cast here, and the psychedelic mojo conjured up turns out to be positively lethal, with varying opinions on the film easily being influenced by oneās own personal tolerances for certain subject matter. The production was said to be a troubled one, most famously in the casting of Pallenberg (who had secretly co-written the script with Cammell with no intention of acting in it until another actress had dropped out), a model who was known to be the longtime girlfriend of Jaggerās beloved bandmate Keith Richards at that point (sheās even shown openly shooting heroin in one scene), and when she and Jagger reportedly filmed a sex scene together (shown mostly in snippets throughout the film), the two of them supposedly got it on FOR REAL in front of the cameras, and it was said to have caused a major rift between Jagger and Richards that lasted for a couple of years. And then there was the little girl actress Wickens, who not only never acted again, but allegedly had witnessed SOMETHING on the set that had supposedly traumatized her and badly affected her mental stability from which it was said that she never recovered from. But the stylized showdown here between staid traditional values and counterculture irrelevance is in the end what makes it so compelling for the thoughtful, intellectual, and open minded viewer, with the obvious highlight coming near the end when Jagger really DOES seem to get into Foxās head in order to see things from his perspective, which segues the film from the mostly (very good) guitar based instrumental soundtrack into the grand musical number āMemo From Turnerā with Jagger finally doing what he does best and in such a context that it makes perfect sense within the drug fueled narrative of the film to suddenly become a music video where the Turner character gives his take on those who look and dress sharply but yet still commit such acts of evil that stand as a stark contrast to those who once viewed the rather comparatively innocent vibes of rock n roll as being the scourge of everything that society had once held dear. Add to that an amazingly translucent ending, certainly confusing to some but one that can be looked at as being quite moving in its own way, and one has all the makings for what remains amongst the most challenging of all cinematic endeavors, one that shows that Mick Jagger (who was always extremely picky with his dramatic acting roles) was truly an iconoclast of the first order when it came to everything that he did and one which proves that perhaps the greatest art is the kind that not only affects the lives of those who have viewed it, but also those who participated in it as wellā¦
9/10