I'm a female guitarist, bassist and songwriter who immersed myself in CBGBs and the original New York punk scene, who played at the club from the end of the 70s until months before its closing. I'm also a narrative filmmaker and believe I can fairly and objectively state the skinny here, and am copying over an edited, revised review from my website to fit in this rectangle:
Many of the musicians and club-goers who survived the New York punk era are a bit resentful they weren't included in the making of CBGB, a film about the quintessential punk club CBGB Omfug, but 50,000 bands (I quote this number from the film) passed through its portals since its founder, Hilly Kristal, opened its doors on Manhattan's flophouse-flavored Bowery. And, though the CBGB movie is flawed, it is still a lovely tribute to Hilly.
The brilliant actor Alan Rickman uncannily captures aspects of Hilly's personality and his dedication to all who passed through his "school of rock." This performance couldn't have been better. Director Randall Miller and Jody Savin have written a quirky script with heart, which includes some clever one-liners, and director Miller's work shines in scenes between Hilly and his co-workers. The sound mix––music often has dialogue interspersed––is excellent.
What you won't get in this film is the essence of punk attitude. Rather, the film documents the struggles Hilly Kristal went through to provide a platform for new music. And in that context, this film succeeds.
It is, however, frustrating that there is a huge miss in the portrayal of the punk scene without its high decibel deadpan, often self-deprecating humor that underlies its aesthetic. For example, though they achieve one such moment with Hilly's mother and Joey Ramone discussing a bowl of chili, elsewhere the script ignores the Ramones were inherently funny dudes from Queens, though the actors achieve a verisimilitude in appearance. (They do peg Johnny Ramone's tendency to tantrum.) Ergo, there is a lack of credibility in the portrayal of Debbie Harry of Blondie without her teasing tongue-in-cheek attitude; and in the portrayal of Stiv Bators, lead singer of the Dead Boys. Rupert Grint succeeds in affecting a stoner rock and roller in his role (a fun change for his fans from his goody-goody Ron Weasley days), but is not coming across with the love-of-the-instrument joy of the young, Dead Boys' guitarist Cheetah Chrome, though they do share the red hair. Kyle Gallner as Lou Reed is not in the ballpark at all. Ashley Greene, playing Hilly's daughter, Lisa, comes nowhere close to the stoic teenager who worked for her father and later attended law school (Hilly's CBGBs co-owner ex-wife and son are not portrayed in the film). It seems more care could have been taken with adhering to truth with these talented young actors who otherwise turn in acceptable acting performances.
As well, the ekphrasic device of movie turned into comic book, special effects popping in and out, while a clever nod to Punk Magazine, becomes distracting. It would likely have worked with a more restrained editing hand.
On the other hand, Mickey Sumner, Sting's real-life, extraordinarily talented actress daughter, sublimely metamorphoses into Patti Smith. In a brief, heart pounding stage performance, she exudes the true essence of punk; this offers a glimpse, alas, of the promise of what this film's portrayal of the punk scene could have been. A standout is Taylor Hawkins as Iggy Pop. And Freddy Rodriguez nearly steals the film with his riveting performance as the drug addict, Idaho.
I adore they include the story of a biker gang leader famously agreeing to keep his group out of the club: This alludes to a real event that happened with the Hell's Angels. They were often protective of neighborhood denizens despite their tendency to start a ruckus or frighten patrons of CBGBs with their presence. As well, the story of Hilly's early life is worked into the story in a charming way.
When Genya Ravan, one of the first women of rock, berates the Dead Boys about the swastika stickers on their instrument cases as their manager, Hilly, is Jewish, it isn't mentioned that Genya herself was a survivor of the Holocaust. Cowed, the Dead Boys remove them. However, while this scene awkwardly makes the point that punks were not Nazis, creepy symbols were brandished as part of the punk aesthetic. Anything that would annoy was the point, and this extended to personal adornment, attitude, song lyrics, music, all a backlash to the wholesome Brady Bunch, height-of-disco world most of the punks came from and that still existed everywhere but in the the thimbleful of punk clubs, its daytime hub around St. Mark's Place in the East Village; in its beginnings, punk was a small, insular world.
It is a disappointment that certain seminal punk bands are not mentioned, like the New York Dolls or the Stilettos. To know what these bands were really like one will still have to go to Youtube, or look at films made during the punk era like Blank Generation, which stars Richard Hell who played with the Heartbreakers and his own band, the Voidoids.
Beyond using the history of punk rock emerging as the backdrop of the film, it really is not a film about punk rock. Ultimately, CBGB is a character study of the unassuming Hilly Kristal who gave us a stage to work our songs. He gave advice. He gave encouragement. He made sure we got our splits at the door. He made us feel CBGBs was our home, that we were a familial extension of his own family.
So do go see this film for Alan Rickman's performance. Do go see this film about an unassuming man whose efforts gave a platform to fresh new voices when no one else was doing so. Do go see this film about a quiet man who brought loud music to the world.
Many of the musicians and club-goers who survived the New York punk era are a bit resentful they weren't included in the making of CBGB, a film about the quintessential punk club CBGB Omfug, but 50,000 bands (I quote this number from the film) passed through its portals since its founder, Hilly Kristal, opened its doors on Manhattan's flophouse-flavored Bowery. And, though the CBGB movie is flawed, it is still a lovely tribute to Hilly.
The brilliant actor Alan Rickman uncannily captures aspects of Hilly's personality and his dedication to all who passed through his "school of rock." This performance couldn't have been better. Director Randall Miller and Jody Savin have written a quirky script with heart, which includes some clever one-liners, and director Miller's work shines in scenes between Hilly and his co-workers. The sound mix––music often has dialogue interspersed––is excellent.
What you won't get in this film is the essence of punk attitude. Rather, the film documents the struggles Hilly Kristal went through to provide a platform for new music. And in that context, this film succeeds.
It is, however, frustrating that there is a huge miss in the portrayal of the punk scene without its high decibel deadpan, often self-deprecating humor that underlies its aesthetic. For example, though they achieve one such moment with Hilly's mother and Joey Ramone discussing a bowl of chili, elsewhere the script ignores the Ramones were inherently funny dudes from Queens, though the actors achieve a verisimilitude in appearance. (They do peg Johnny Ramone's tendency to tantrum.) Ergo, there is a lack of credibility in the portrayal of Debbie Harry of Blondie without her teasing tongue-in-cheek attitude; and in the portrayal of Stiv Bators, lead singer of the Dead Boys. Rupert Grint succeeds in affecting a stoner rock and roller in his role (a fun change for his fans from his goody-goody Ron Weasley days), but is not coming across with the love-of-the-instrument joy of the young, Dead Boys' guitarist Cheetah Chrome, though they do share the red hair. Kyle Gallner as Lou Reed is not in the ballpark at all. Ashley Greene, playing Hilly's daughter, Lisa, comes nowhere close to the stoic teenager who worked for her father and later attended law school (Hilly's CBGBs co-owner ex-wife and son are not portrayed in the film). It seems more care could have been taken with adhering to truth with these talented young actors who otherwise turn in acceptable acting performances.
As well, the ekphrasic device of movie turned into comic book, special effects popping in and out, while a clever nod to Punk Magazine, becomes distracting. It would likely have worked with a more restrained editing hand.
On the other hand, Mickey Sumner, Sting's real-life, extraordinarily talented actress daughter, sublimely metamorphoses into Patti Smith. In a brief, heart pounding stage performance, she exudes the true essence of punk; this offers a glimpse, alas, of the promise of what this film's portrayal of the punk scene could have been. A standout is Taylor Hawkins as Iggy Pop. And Freddy Rodriguez nearly steals the film with his riveting performance as the drug addict, Idaho.
I adore they include the story of a biker gang leader famously agreeing to keep his group out of the club: This alludes to a real event that happened with the Hell's Angels. They were often protective of neighborhood denizens despite their tendency to start a ruckus or frighten patrons of CBGBs with their presence. As well, the story of Hilly's early life is worked into the story in a charming way.
When Genya Ravan, one of the first women of rock, berates the Dead Boys about the swastika stickers on their instrument cases as their manager, Hilly, is Jewish, it isn't mentioned that Genya herself was a survivor of the Holocaust. Cowed, the Dead Boys remove them. However, while this scene awkwardly makes the point that punks were not Nazis, creepy symbols were brandished as part of the punk aesthetic. Anything that would annoy was the point, and this extended to personal adornment, attitude, song lyrics, music, all a backlash to the wholesome Brady Bunch, height-of-disco world most of the punks came from and that still existed everywhere but in the the thimbleful of punk clubs, its daytime hub around St. Mark's Place in the East Village; in its beginnings, punk was a small, insular world.
It is a disappointment that certain seminal punk bands are not mentioned, like the New York Dolls or the Stilettos. To know what these bands were really like one will still have to go to Youtube, or look at films made during the punk era like Blank Generation, which stars Richard Hell who played with the Heartbreakers and his own band, the Voidoids.
Beyond using the history of punk rock emerging as the backdrop of the film, it really is not a film about punk rock. Ultimately, CBGB is a character study of the unassuming Hilly Kristal who gave us a stage to work our songs. He gave advice. He gave encouragement. He made sure we got our splits at the door. He made us feel CBGBs was our home, that we were a familial extension of his own family.
So do go see this film for Alan Rickman's performance. Do go see this film about an unassuming man whose efforts gave a platform to fresh new voices when no one else was doing so. Do go see this film about a quiet man who brought loud music to the world.