“How can you not have insurance?”
“Because I spent my money on the Clapco D29, the most impenetrable lock on the market today. It has only one design flaw, the door must be closed!”
Reasons To Be Cheerful – Part Free
There’s something about a biopic that lifts it above normal cinema, in the same way that a hard hitting charity flyer might. It brings a hard dose of reality to the silver screen, as you know what lies behind the gloss is mostly factual. Ian Dury’s biopic is not a pretty picture but it entertains nonetheless.
If you know anything about Ian Dury, front man of Ian Dury and the Blockheads the 70′s punk / new wave / rock and roll band (It’s strangely hard music to place because it’s so original), then you’ll know that he was no stranger to controversy, was generally outspoken and highly influential part of the 70′s music scene. Not to mention two of his song titles which he gave to the english language, namely ‘reasons to be cheerful’ and ‘sex and drugs and rock and roll’. If you haven’t heard of Ian Dury however, you might be surprised to learn that he did all of this in spite of being disabled after contracting Polio at a young age.
The film touches on Dury early life in the rather bleak boarding school or institution into which he and other Polio sufferers were admitted, mainly in the form of flashbacks, choosing to focus predominantly on his musical career and the effect of fame on his family life; Dury actually studied painting at the Royal Academy before going into music. In this regard we have lots of fun seeing the man in creative music mode, and there’s no doubt he had the gift of the gab, and certainly wore his disability on his sleeve. Andy Serkis (aka. Gollom) plays the role beautifully. He’s a naturally lithe and wiry chap, so looks the part, and carries a lovely deep gravelly voice, sounds like a ‘right geezer’ – most likely down to smoking plenty of fags. Serkis takes his roles seriously. It comes with the territory, I suppose.
Not being a former fan of Ian Dury and the Blockheads, I went into the film largely with my ears shut, and I was treated to quite a few funky tunes I hadn’t heard before, and I started to see the appeal of the man; on a number of occasions I found myself merrily tapping my foot away to the music. Again, Serkis puts on a good show in covering the original songs with his own version of Dury’s East London/Essex boy growl. The music is of course just a part pf the show, and the clothing and showmanship and wordsmithery of the man were also a large part of his appeal. His lyrics could probably be described as ‘cheeky’, ‘Billericay Dickie’ for example (after the Essex town), and one could never accuse the man of being able to sing. But then neither could Bob Dylan and he did pretty well for himself.
The serious side of the film really centers around Dury’s relationship with the significant others in his life, and how his thirst for fame and the eventual notoriety he received affected those relationships. In this regard we see his wife, his young girlfriend and his son as the main co-creators of the troubled man. As is often the case with performers, they look for the adoration of the world to make them whole, but once they get it and it doesn’t do the trick, there’s nowhere else to turn. From there on in, it’s a slippery slope.
Overall, I found the film entertaining, very musical, strangely fun, and a wonderful reminder that there really is nothing that can stand in your way of getting what you want in life, as Mr Dury has kindly demonstrates in his inimitable way. If you want a slice of real Essex boy, language, style and form, with some cheeky 70 lyrics thrown in for good measure, I would highly recommend Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll & Roll to you. Good acting, good music, great hairdo! Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, free!
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