SPIKE ISLAND by Mat Whitecross
When the Stone Roses announced their comeback in October 2011, they announced one of the most anticipated and arguably one of the most inconceivable reunions in modern music history. It’s easy to see why such an announcement built up such a hype. Not only were the four lads from Manchester responsible for some of the most influential music ever made, which helped shape the music landscape for years to come, but they also represented a whole youth culture of cocky and club happy generation x’ers with their perfect trademark mixture of acid house and funky rhythm section with jangle pop and rock and roll guitar – not to mention Ian Brown’s lyrics, overflowing with confidence and charisma. The significance of this ‘resurrection’ in pop culture wasn’t only made obvious by the speed at which their first reunion gig at Heaton Park was sold out but also by the fact that, following their return on the big stage last year, their second coming spread out to the big screen this year.
Thus, it so happened that two feature films based on the Madchester suit were released at around the same time. One is The Stone Roses: Made of Stone, a documentary made with a fan’s eye by Shane Meadows about the band at work on their upcoming reunion and the atmosphere of excitement which surrounded them. It was released a few weeks ago and felt like an event in its own right, with its premiere at Trafford Park on the 5th of June and its simultaneous broadcast across cinemas in the UK. The second film which hit the screens this week is a coming of age tale which was directly inspired by the band’s music and takes us back to the days when their popularity was at its highest peak.
Spike Island borrows its name from the location where The Stone Roses played in May 1990 the biggest gig of their career and one that has enjoyed cult status as a crucial pop cultural event of its time. This is the concert a group of youngsters from a poor side of Manchester want to get to, despite lacking tickets, monetary funds or even a proper plan to get there. Armed with dedication for the band and lots of determination, these inseparable friends also dream of an opportunity to give The Stone Roses a demo tape of their band, Shadowcaster, which they record for the occasion.
Despite touching briefly on serious subjects like poverty, alcoholism and parental neglect, all of which are portrayed by the background story of each individual member of the central group of friends, it’s clear from the beginning that this film is not meant to be taken as a serious representation of youth cultural angst and frustration. In this sense, it stands as more reminiscent of the weaker works of John Hughes than Franc Roddam’s seminal mod culture manifesto Quadrophenia (1979), which was loosely based on The Who’s rock opera by the same name.
Having touched on the beginnings of the seventies punk rock scene in Britain with his previous work Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll, Mat Whitecross is at the helm of this project. Rather than deepening the psychological and emotional aspects of the film, he chooses to give Spike Island an air of thoughtlessness and nostalgia. This feels like a safe choice, considering the audience which this film hopes to attract will most likely be drawn to the film by the mere fact of it being structured around the music of The Stone Roses.
While there is some delight to be found in the film’s simplicity and occasionally sweet moments, as well as a free use of the Manchester slang which reveals a certain warmth towards its setting, Spike Island is filled with clichés and a simplified structure, perhaps in ‘god fearing’ reverence to the band and its fans. It also has quite a lengthy beginning, and the film only really kicks in when the gang reaches its concert destination. When the gig finally starts, that’s where most of the nosta lgic and romantic sequences take place too. One instance particularly comes to mind. Unable to get past security and forced to content with merely listening to the music behind a fence along with his friends, one of them gets a leg up and catches a glimpse of the band on stage. Then, the camera fleetingly flies over the 27,000 heads in attendance and reaches the stage where, through archive footage, The Stone Roses make history in all their youthful energy and radiance.
However, this scene is shortly followed by the best moment in the whole film, when the unmistakable drum intro and jumping bass line introduce the anthem ‘I Am the Resurrection’. There is nothing particularly spectacular or indeed even impressive about what happens on the screen during this scene, nevertheless it shouldn’t surprise anyone if, at this stage, the film officially turned into a karaoke screening and people in the audience were to finally stop restraining themselves and join in at the chorus line, fist pumping through the song. This is where Whitecross’ film shows that his unobtrusiveness paid off, if not cinematically, musically.
Basically, Spike Island is a music fan’s film – even more specifically a Stone Roses fan’s film. It comes as no surprise hence to see that ads and spots put so much emphasis on the name of The Stone Roses in their marketing campaign, and the timing of the film’s release could not be better, with the hype for the reunion of Brown, Squire, Mani and Reni still very much alive. However, as fun and entertaining as it may be, Spike Island is incredibly shallow and ambitionless, almost completely failing to deliver an emotional impact on its audience, except perhaps making the viewer want to rush home to listen to that wonderful album from 1989.
Directed by - Mat Whitecross
Written by - Chris Coghill
Starring - Elliott Tittensor, Nico Mirallegro, Jordan Murphy, Adam Long, Oliver Heald, Chris Colghill
Produced by - Esther Douglas, Nicki Earnshaw, Phil Hunt, Adam Kulick, Fiona Neilson, Joe Oppenheimer, Compton Ross, Elliot Ross, Fenella Ross
Cinematography by - Christopher Ross
Edited by - Peter Christelis
Drama, UK, 2012
105 m
- Matt Micucci, 24/6/2013