NYD Part 3

It's weird how this happens...just like my Herzog posts, suddenly news about the New York Dolls is popping up everywhere.

From the new issue of Rolling Stone.

And from a recent issue of Billboard.

SPOILER ALERT! Don't read the above linked articles if you have not seen New York Doll. (See post below, "Beautiful," about this knockout documentary.)

Found

Before New York Doll, I knew only a bare scant about the band. I had heard of Johansen, Johnny Thunders, and I knew Little Steven featured some cuts from the band on his radio show, but other than that...that was it.

When I heard the Dolls perform in the doc, I was shocked: This stuff rocked. I immediately hit Amazon, where I found that the band only recorded two official albums, and one (Too Much, Too Soon) was out of print. Dejected, I still ordered their debut and a CD of their reunion show that features prominently in New York Doll. On a whim, I went to our local Hasting's, and damn if they didn't have a used copy of Too Much, Too Soon for $4.99. A small town Arkansas CD store has an out of print New York Dolls CD. Who would have thunk it?

Save for one song, the sucker rocks.

Why in the world don't these guys have a boxed set of remastered songs on the market? It's a crime. Morrissey, where are you?

Beautiful

The blissful and beautiful documentary, New York Doll, came and went last year without a trace -- somewhat like the subject of the film. The New York Dolls, for the uninitiated, were some crossdressing bad boy rockers that exploded through the NYC club scene and Europe in the early `70s only to implode in 1975 due to slow sales, death, drink and drugs. The rub is the Dolls shattered rock and roll conventions at the time, making way for the punk movement in the late `70s. Think the Rolling Stones at their wildest crossed with Ziggy Stardust: that, in a nutshell, was the New York Dolls. And they were damn good.

Yet outside the world of rock aficionados, they remain anonymous. Their most famous member, David Johansen, is primarily known, not for his lead vocalist gig for the Dolls, but for his mid-`80s cocktail crooner alter ego, Buster Poindexter (remember, “Hot, Hot, Hot”?) and some acting gigs (Scrooged, Married to the Mob) The 1973 New York Dolls debut album remains their only official studio release in print.

As Brit vocalist Morrissey puts it in New York Doll, the Dolls were, unfortunately, ahead of their time. By 2004, two members of the Dolls were dead, leaving Johansen, guitarist Syl Sylvain and bassist Arthur “Killer” Kane as the only surviving members, and each of them were well into their separate lives apart from the New York Dolls.

Which is where New York Doll begins. The film doesn’t follow Johansen or Sylvain, but instead focuses on Kane. When the Dolls disbanded, Kane struggled to find a groove, but instead descended into alcoholism and poverty. While Johansen thrived, Kane grew jealous and bitter, and eventually, “fell” from his L.A. kitchen window three stories above the sidewalk -- an act, the film implies, was no accident. While he recovered, Kane abruptly switched gears and became a Mormon. The reversal clicked, and Kane spent over 14 years, shuttling back and forth on a city bus, to the L.A. Mormon temple to work in the church’s Family History Center.

When we meet Kane, he’s a sweet, tall, gaunt guy with perhaps a little damage from his days of heavy drinking. Living in a small apartment stuffed with New York Dolls memorabilia, it’s obvious that while Kane has found a spiritual peace, he still harbors for some type of Dolls reunion. And Kane’s prayers are answered when Morrissey arranges for a New York Dolls concert at a prestigious festival in Great Britain.

What follows is an undeniably touching portrait of a gentle man humbly making peace with his past while experiencing the true grace of his answered prayers. The filmmaker, Greg Whiteley, was a fellow Mormon who met Kane at the L.A. temple. Whiteley was granted fantastic access to Kane’s life and his reunion with his old mates. While esteemed rockers like Mick Jones from The Clash, Iggy Pop, Chrissie Hynde of the Pretenders, Morrissey, and Sir Bob Geldof praise Kane and the legacy of the Dolls, Whiteley also snakes his camera into the reunions and rehearsals of the newly reunited band, and captures tender moments of reconciliation and obvious love between the three surviving members.

If one took the meat of New York Doll and molded it into a fictional film, it’s likely the audience would not go along with the story, finding it too unbelievable. Yet it is the last five minutes of the film that truly blindsides you. If you know the history of the New York Dolls and of Arthur Kane, you know the ending. If you don’t – and likely you don’t – then you’ll be left slack-jawed and, in a way, comforted that you took 77 minutes of your time to follow Kane as his longtime dream is fulfilled.

Like I noted, New York Doll is one of those rare films that slipped in and out of theatres with no fanfare. Despite a typically smarmy review (penned by longtime Voice rocksnob Robert Christgau) from the Village Voice, the movie received stellar reviews from critics, yet it still vanished without a trace. I certainly hope the DVD release will rectify this. Even if you’re not a rock fan, there’s no denying that this film is a special gem. I can’t recommend it enough.

Some notes on the DVD: It’s generally a fine transfer, but in some instances, it looked as if some of the audio was out of sync, but it didn’t detract from the experience in any way. The few extras are terrific: a longer interview with Morrissey; a six-minute talk with Whiteley; and a hymn performed by David Johansen. (And don't turn the movie off when the final credits roll. Johansen performs another hymn -- "Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" -- that is absolutely stunning.)

Damn, My Hair is Bangin!

Bro, I nabbed an appointment with Jonathan Antin at his salon in Beverly Hills the other day. Check me out! I had to pay $2500 for the cut and style, but bro, was it not worth it?