Plot Details: This opinion reveals minor details about the movie's plot.

You've seen the movie about the over-the-hill rock band, right? The one with the outspoken lead singer, the long-suffering lead guitarist, the bassist with the long hair and silly facial hair, and the drummer who's ready to explode at a moment's notice? You've followed their often-hilarious antics as they cross the country on a reunion tour, playing small shows at crappy venues for very few people. And you've marveled at the fact that, even in the face of rock 'n' roll failure, these men still hold on to the bond that they share, and the music that they love.

You've seen "This is Spinal Tap", right? You probably have. But have you seen "Hard Core Logo"? Unless you're a Canadian, or a Tarantino-completist¹, I bet you haven't.

Right off the bat let me say this: the "Spinal Tap" comparisons are unfair. "Tap" is a bellylaugh-a-thon, wherein we are supposed to snicker at the band in question, while questioning how they could possibly function as human being, being as dumb as they are. "Hard Core Logo", and the band that gives it its name, is far from dumb. It/they may wander around over-and-over in the same psychological torments, without ever learning valuable lessons, but they are far from dumb. And neither is the film that documents their exploits.

Hard Core Logo is a legendary/fictional Canadian punk band. Punk rock, which flourished in the late 1970s and early 1980s, is about as complex an idea as its name would suggest. In a general sense, the word "punk" suggests a miscreant, a subversive, a rebel. But its origins probably come from prison slang, where it referred to any male who was sexually submissive. By contrast, the word "rock" comes from the slightly longer, "rock 'n' roll". Alan Freed, seminal disc jockey and one of the music's early proponents, coined the phrase "Rock 'n' roll" in 1951. He lifted it from the black community, where it was a euphemism for sex. Rock's longstanding position as the music of unabashed copulation by horny males ("Squeeze my lemon / 'til the juice runs down my leg") puts it in firm opposition to the punks who were getting raped in the prison shower. Punk rock. An oxymoron if I ever heard one.

The story here centers on punk rock singer Joe Dick, who, after four years apart, has reunited his bandmates for a benefit concert. Bassist John Oxenberger and drummer Pipefitter eagerly hop on board, having nothing better to do with their empty lives. Lead guitarist Billy Talent, yin to Dick's yang, is a tougher sell. He is on the cusp of signing a deal to tour and record with a Big American Rock Band, and doesn't want to miss the opportunity while nihilistically traveling through the Canadian Prairies. If he didn't, however, we wouldn't have a movie. But we do have a movie. And it is glorious in its portrayals of these men, their fights, their friendships, and their concerts.

Hugh Dillon, who plays Dick, is in real life the lead singer for the Canadian pop-punk band The Headstones (look closely and you'll see Billy wearing a ring emblazoned with the band's logo). Since making "Hard Core Logo", he's been on the verge of having an actual acting career². Which makes much sense, seeing as he has movie star charisma and the chops to back it up.

His Dick is a firebrand, a mohawked frontman who'd rather sneer you down than listen to your side of the story. But he's also, inside, a frightened little boy looking for love in a world that only wants to see him angry. Dillon, an amateur actor at this point, pulls off both sides of his character with relative ease. Watch as he stomps up to the microphone stand – after tenderly kissing each of his bandmates – to sing the first song of the band's first show. He is touched that everyone actually showed up, and that the crowd remembers the Hard Cores after such a long time away.

The band has a dubious way of showing their appreciation for the audience's, and each other's, affection. Firstly, getting Joe Dick's spit in your eye is an honour. Whether you're the dude in the first row, or the bass player on stage. I call it the "affectionate spit in the eye", an oxymoronic action that somehow manages to feel like adult human behaviour given the context that we have going here. Second, flipping someone the bird is a fine, if passive-aggressive, way of showing them how much you care. The symbols of punk rock are aggressively subversive, contradicting the meaning they hold in polite society. "Hard Core Logo" indulges in these symbols like it was Umberto Eco on a bender.

There's no better example of this indulgence in the movie than in Joe's greeting to the crowd, on the occasion of the band's first show together in four years. "You people, you're the fucking coolest," he shouts to a crowd of adoring and self-righteous fans (they've shown up ostensibly to protest Canada's loose gun laws). He retreats from the mic, with a devilish grin on his face. When he returns, his tone is a bit more caustic: "You see, I was just lying there, because I saw you cut your fucking ponytails off." And then, the coup de grace: "You don't know shit from good chocolate, babies!" Sure, a couple of empty (and half-full) beer cups come flying on to the stage, as retribution for the perceived insult. But, in reality, the crowd knows that this is punk rock's brand of "corrosive love", a kind that Joe Dick wields with samurai precision.

Dick shows, in the film's first scene, that he has a pretty solid understanding of what the band's name means. "'Logo' is a Greek word, it means 'symbol' or [stage direction: raises leg to fart] 'sign'." He goes on to explain 'Hard Core' – anarchy, distrust of authority, rebellion – without the aid of flatulence. However, he fails to make the connection between logo as symbol, and logo as corporate marketing tool. An idea in direct opposition to the notion of punk rock, and its rampant DIY aesthetic.

Dick, and the movie he fronts, is loaded with this kind of winking self-awareness/willing-self-delusion. During a game of Cool Movie Geography ("Touch of Evil." "La Dolce Vita." "Alphaville." "Lolita." "Alphaville ends in an 'e'"), Dick mentions "Spinal Tap", with a wink and a nod in his voice. Later, he quotes liberally from "The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle". As much as he'd like to think so, Joe, underneath it all, knows that his punk rock attitude (nay, any punk rock attitude) is just a put on. A means to a rock 'n' roll end. It's worked a thousand times before, so why shouldn't it work for him? Why, indeed…

Dick's relationship with Billy Tallent drives much of the movie's narrative. Dick and Tallent are lifelong friends, and the Lennon/McCartney-Jagger/Richard soul of the band. They have been friends so long they might as well be brothers. A distinction that comes with a license for one to take the piss out of the other. And to understand just how their differences make up a cohesive and powerful whole. "Billy just wants the models and limousines," notes Dick at one point, about his guitarist's rock star dreams. "I'm happy with hookers and taxi cabs."

The relationship dissection is not all one-sided, though. Tallent, for all his dour moodiness, does get in a few good swipes at his more outgoing partner. And yet, through it all, you can see that he has much affection for Dick, even when his singer's antics are costing him money and years off his life. When Dick sarcastically (but not totally) notes that it is the friction between the two men that "makes our art great," Billy dryly sums up the partnership another way: "I suffer for his art."

As Tallent, Callum Keith Rennie proves why he is one of Canada's best young actors (or was; his window of opportunity might have closed by now). American audiences will remember him for his bit part in "Memento" (Guy Pearce ties him up and leaves him in the closet). But to me he'll always be the seething opportunist and legendary thrash-meister that he plays here. His chemistry with Dick is so strong, I'd suggest wearing protective goggles while watching the movie.

The band's remaining members can't hope to compete with the supernovas that lead them. John Pyper-Ferguson plays Oxenberger, a good-hearted soul, whose inner demons slowly emerge as the road trip goes on (in often terrifying ways). We get to know Oxenberger best through his private journals (which Pyper-Ferguson delivers, voice over style, in an ominous monotone). They are intensely honest, stripped to the bone, and often hard to listen to. Except, that is, when the film subverts their message. One moment has Oxenberger waxing poetic while on screen we see an image of Pipefitter giggling like a little boy, while playing with his bellybutton. Bernie Coulson, who plays Pipefitter, is the film's weak link. Pipe is supposed to be a force of nature, too dumb to realize the damage he's doing to himself, and too dumb to care. But Coulson is nothing more than an annoying presence, a little boy screaming and yelping and dancing around in a furious attempt to grab some attention. Which he doesn't deserve. Probably a fitting portrayal, seeing as the character is just that. But annoying nonetheless.

Bruce McDonald, the director (of this and other Canadian indie classics, such as: "Highway 61", "Dance Me Outside", and "Roadkill"), pulls a "Tap" by taking a role in the film. Just like Marty DiBergi before him, he's here as a beleaguered documentary filmmaker. Only he's also playing himself. Or at least a beleaguered documentary filmmaker version of himself. The Bruce McDonald in the movie is a whiny and vindictive hack, which amounts to a bold move that adds to the drama.

The Bruce McDonald behind the camera, on the other hand, is miles away from hackdom. His sure hand, in creating a fictional documentary on a fictional band, is seen in every thing he touches. From the film's handheld feel, to the "accidental" shots behind the scenes, you never get the impression that anything here is contrived or false.

Except for one 3-minute sequence near the film's middle. Arriving at the farm of a punk rock legend, unwashed and palpably unwelcome, the cast and crew indulge in a bit of acid trip mayhem. Needless to say some face make-up is worn, a goat is decapitated, and the whole thing looks like an outtake from Pink Floyd's "The Wall". When he's not indulging in LSD-inspired lunacy, McDonald has a tasteful DIY-aesthetic going for him. Shot after shot of the Canadian west (the band's touring van passes a regal mountain goat perched next to the sky, and sun-drenched bales of hay in an open field on the way to Winnipeg; shots of a painted drum are made up to look like the Trans-Canada Highway) give the film a certain beauty. A far cry from the dark and dank punk clubs where the band plies its trade.

And what a trade it is. Though there is a real musician in the on-screen band, McDonald has assembled a crack crew of punk songwriters to fill out the Hard Cores' catalogue (Dillon does provide the vocal tracks, however). They've produced such authentically-titled (and realized) numbers as 'Who the Hell Do You Think You Are?', 'Something's Gonna Die Tonight', and 'Edmonton Block Heater'. All destined to be CanRock classics, if a fictional band hadn't recorded them. The band also does a rousing run through the Dead Boys 'Sonic Reducer', and the soundtrack is filled out by genuine punk classics, such as The Ramones' 'Touring' (Joey Ramone even has a quick cameo, spitting out a couple of lines outside one club).

Ultimately, "Hard Core Logo" isn't about punk rock (or even Punk Rock). It isn't about the perils of being in a touring band, or a condemnation of the nihilistic lifestyle, or even the glories of Canada (That's right, it's not about Canada)! What it is about is friends using friends. It's about trading in a soulful connection for a fistful of filthy lucre. And it's about regret. If you don't believe me, just take a look at the film's final scene. A more harrowing and substantial example of regret, and the pain it can cause, you'll never see. "Hard Core Logo", as the title implies, is hard-core. And I love every minute of it. In a completely non-corrosive way.

[This has been my punk rock contribution to Vormancian's Oxymoron Write-Off. He's come up with an abundantly empty idea, worthy of the write-off genre itself. Find all the oxymorons in the above review and win… nothing! Enter Marc's write-off, however, and you might win a DVD of his choosing³.]
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¹Quentin Tarantino bought up the distribution rights to "Hard Core Logo" a few years back. Did it help get the film into American theatres? You tell me.

²In a minor subplot to the Tarantino saga, Hugh Dillon was asked to audition for the role that eventually went to Michael Keaton in "Jackie Brown".

³Be forewarned: you're just as likely to win "What a Girl Wants" as you are "Donnie Darko".

Recommended: Yes

Viewing Format: DVD