I Guess I'll Have To Tell 'em/That I Got No Cerebellum

I dare say that somewhere in the rules of criticism, there’s a paragraph on keeping an open mind and trying not to pre-empt the viewing experience.

Last night I broke that rule, when I saw End Of The Century: The Story of The Ramones. I knew that I would like this film just because of its subject matter: a band that I’m rather fond of. End Of The Century is the tragic-comic story of what happens when a geek, a junkie, a right-winger, and someone with technical skill form one of a century’s most influential bands. They make some music, it fails to get the success it deserves, and they then spend 25 years testing each other to the point of breaking.

All the Spinal Tap hallmarks are here: the endless merry-go-round of drummers, the footage from the tour-bus, the interview interrupted by someone’s wife, and the absurdly rock ‘n’ roll moments (Johnny Ramone pulling The Clash and The Sex Pistols through a window in 1976). What lifts End Of The Century above the level of standard fare is the genuine sense of tragedy that surrounds the band’s two deceased members, Joey and Dee Dee Ramone.

In a sense, a documentary like this isn’t that hard to make: there’s a story which naturally tells itself. It’s also hard to turn a Rockumentary into a meditation on the nature of truth like Capturing The Friedmans. End Of The Century succeeds by giving what feels like genuine insight into the lives of people who are heroes of yours because of what they did, not who they were. As such, it comes recommended.