Most music documentaries have three goals: expose people to the band; use the stressful atmosphere of small spaces – recording studio, a tour bus – to engage the viewer in a narrative; and prove that the band is worthy of a legacy. “End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones” completes the first two goals at the expense of explaining the Ramones’ legacy.
The documentary exposes viewers to Ramones’ songs beyond “Blitzkrieg Bop” and “I Wanna Be Sedated” with stories and accounts from friends, family and music-industry.
With a large amount of stock footage, such as interviews and live concert reels, the documentary shows the characteristics of the band. For example, it illustrates lead singer and co-songwriter Jeffery “Joey” Hyman’s affliction with obsessive compulsive disorder and his left-wing mindset; guitarist John “Johnny” Cummings’ role of right-wing authoriative task master; and bassist and co-songwriter Douglas “DeeDee” Colvin’s drug-fueled erratic behavior.
So then what does “End of the Century” add? Not much it appears. Although the band released 18 albums in 19 years and performed constantly at CBGB – the influential, Bowery-based Manhatan club where the Ramones shared a weekly billing alongside Patti Smith and Blondie – the band’s personal lives and relationships boiled down to dominant personality traits and small stories where each member fulfills their assigned role.
This lack of depth is also shared in the documentary’s explanation of the scope of the Ramones’ influence on popular music. Although the film ends with the band’s induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2002, most of the statements about the band’s style and craft are from individuals who were fans of punk music and part of the original punk movement in the ’70s. There are no rock critics or historians.
To cement the documentary’s theme, other band members confirm the two-dimensional descriptions. One particular piece of archive footage shows the members on stage actually whining, bickering and then finally trumping one member with a 2-to-1 vote on the next song to play.
Although time is spent on the Ramones’ evolving mythology, space space is set aside for the emotional ups and downs of a band that maintained the same look and apparently similar sound for more than 20 years – yet failed to catch a hold of mainstream success.
Even some of the Ramones’ most incongruous songs are the catchiest. “53rd and 3rd” – the story of a vicious male prostitute who feels like an outsider amid outsiders – has its charms. DeeDee’s yelp of a voice screeches through his own semi-autobiographical lyrics.
A deeper issue never explored in depth is why such aggressive, obnoxious bands such as the Sex Pistols take hold of the public’s attention and consciousness when the aggressive and obnoxious behavior of the Ramones remained relatively unnoticed. The only reason given suggests violent behavior feared from the Ramones by linkage to the same music style as the Sex Pistols. The documentary does not go further into the issue other than blaming the “other guys.”
The most amusing and compelling drama involves the ideologies inherent in the band member’s personalities. There’s the romantic loner Joey who watches as Johnny steals his girlfriend, which created a rift so strong that the two rarely spoke to each other.
Setting aside the more serious issues with DeeDee – the drug abuse and addict camaraderie he reveled in as a member of the Replacements – the viewer watches DeeDee’s more punk sensibilities clash with the leather jacket look of the Ramones, enforced almost militaristically by Johnny, and DeeDee’s hilariously failed attempt at a rap career.
That punk mentality that lead to such amusing yet misguided side projects comes through most directly through the look of the movie and the rough visual edge and pure energy that each member exudes when on stage. Their attitudes and actions as they perform live never come off as anything less than dynamic.
They look confrontational yet withdrawn: matching leather jackets, a lead singer who consistently peers out under a veil of long black hair and a guitarist who – when not gritting his teeth and twisting his face into a snarl when he played – maintained a disassociated, diffident look that never falters. This same look from Johnny is in every interview clip shown.
The band’s early album covers and stage presence even appear to frighten the ever-formidable, blatantly obnoxious and confrontational Sid Vicious. Arturo Vega, the band’s longtime art director, says, “He says he wants to meet the band, but he’s afraid. He’s asking me if he comes in and meets the band, will they beat him up?” This is a band who wishes the entirely British audience a happy Fourth of July. If the attitude of the Ramones toward everyone, including each other, could be summed up by one gesture, it would be a middle finger.
Filmmakers Michael Gramaglia and Jim Fields appear to be friends with members in the band and long time fans. Their lack of a selective, multi-perspective sensibility permeates the film, giving it the above-mentioned myopic view.
A small bit of credibility the film might add to any possible legacy of the Ramones is presented in the outcast, “anyone-can-do-this” mentality, their minimalistic, crude, untrained approach toward music and its effect on their followers. The Ramones’ self-deprecating attitude that was impressed upo these band members of “If we can do it, anyone can” helped inspire members of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Rancid and Metallica. Kirk Hammett of Metallica said, “There were no standards after the Ramones.”
This impression has always been what many regard as the core theory behind rock music, and a band that continues to influence and inspire musicians deserves a more textured and in-depth study than this film.
