In this golden age of home viewing, the Criterion Collection still provides some of the best editions of the best movies ever released, usually with a rich selection of extras and often including audio commentaries (a feature they pioneered, and perhaps the greatest gift ever to film students and cinephiles alike). This column features one Criterion release per week, based on where my interests lead me and what’s available from my local public library.
Jimmy Cooper (Phil Daniels) is an angry young man who works at a dead-end job, lives with his parents, and wishes he was more successful with girls. None of that is particularly notable for a someone getting their first taste of the so-called real world, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear, particularly since the path to adulthood isn’t as clear as it was in his parent’s day. In the London of 1964, the old certainties of working-class life have faded yet the realities of the social and economic system meant that people’s life chances were still largely bound by the circumstances of their birth.
Still, life is not all bad. Jimmy spends most of his free time with a group of friends including Dave (Marc Wingett), Chalky (Philip Davis), and Spider (Gary Shail), and unironically says that conforming to the norms of the mod subculture is how he expresses his individuality. As a mod, he rides an elaborately decorated motor scooter, wears loud bespoke suits, takes amphetamines (“blues”), and dances to the likes of James Brown, the Chiffons, and Booker T. & the M.G.’s.
Opposing the mods are the rockers, who wear black leather, ride motorcycles, and dance to rock and roll. If you write off those choices as mere preferences, you’ve forgotten how fiercely young people can feel about the markers of group identification. Attempting to avoid choosing a side, as does Jimmy’s childhood friend Kevin (Ray Winstone) just means nobody’s got your back, which is not great given the delight both groups take in brawling. It all culminates in the infamous Brighton bank holiday riots (which did happen, although reports were much exaggerated, leading to a classic example of a moral panic). Through it all, Jimmy remains something of an outsider, wanting to be a “face” or recognized leader on the scene (like Sting’s character Ace Face in a small but pivotal role) yet always finding himself apart and alone.
To really “get” Quadrophenia you need to see the world through Jimmy’s eyes. It’s easy to forget, when you’re securely settled into adulthood, just how precarious everything feels when you’re not. And if you were born to even less privilege than a white working-class boy (say you are female or non-white or truly poor), you may need to make an extra effort to overlook Jimmy’s self-centered sexism and racism. It’s also helpful to avoid drawing parallels between Jimmy and certain men currently playing an outsize role in American life (hint: they’re good at breaking things but not so good at building anything up).
The good news is that Quadrophenia is worth the effort. Phil Daniels delivers a knockout performance that embodies Jimmy’s frustration but also leaves room for his complexity (one interpretation of this film has him suffering from mental illness) while firmly situating him within his own time and class. While we don’t see much in terms of growth for most of the film’s running time, the conclusion of his story (which is seen at the very beginning of the film) suggests, at least to me, that it hasn’t been all in vain.
One thing I had forgotten from earlier viewings is how well Quadrophenia is directed and shot. It was Franc Roddam’s first film, but he had previously directed several documentary series for the BBC, and cinematographer Brian Tufano had even more extensive television documentary experience. They work well together and made the most of their limited budget (they discuss some of their techniques on the commentary track), the lack of extra lighting and such resulting in a more realistic-looking film. They also made extensive use of deep focus and displayed a real expertise in directing and shooting crowded interiors like nightclubs and house parties, where action takes place on multiple planes at once and yet you are never confused about where to look. The many anachronistic vehicles that make their way into some exterior shots are also due to the film’s low budget, which precluded niceties like using closed roads for shooting, but may have added an extra layer of excitement to the making of the film. | Sarah Boslaugh
Spine #: 624
Technical details: 120 min.; color; screen ratio1.85:1; English.
Edition reviewed: DVD (2 discs)
Extras: audio commentary by director/co-writer Franc Roddam and cinematographer Brian Tufano; interview with the Who’s comanager Bill Curbishley; interview with the Who’s sound engineer Bob Pridden; segment of a 1979 episode of the BBC series Talking Pictures; segment from a 1964 French news program about mods and rockers; 1975 French youth-culture program featuring early footage of the Who; trailers; booklet including an essay by Howard Hampton.
Fun Fact: Several of the cast members took lessons at the Metropolitan Police Training College to learn how to operate a scooter safely.
Parting Thought: The public bathhouse scene underlines the reality of working-class life at the time but also includes full-frontal male nudity. Why did the director include this detail but shoot the many scenes of sexual behavior more discretely?
