Film

DVD

Cum On Feel the Slade

by Sean Nelson

My hunch is that most Stranger readers aren't overly familiar with Slade, the British pub-rock band from the early '70s. It's possible that Americans remember them from their first big comeback LP in the mid-'80s, the memorably titled Keep Your Hands off My Power Supply, with its decent-sized MTV hit "Run Runaway." They also, of course, wrote "Cum On Feel the Noize," which was already an oldie by the time Quiet Riot had a huge hit with it. Though they were never huge in the states, Slade was/is an institution in the UK--the cultural equivalent to, let's say, Lynyrd Skynyrd, but without all that messy tragedy.

English bands with hits have a very good life, and Slade--unlikely though they were, with their unglamorous looks and Midlands roughness--was no exception. Their run of top 20 hits was so long that they even got to star in a movie. The result was a true curio of the rock era called Flame.

Far from the Hard Day's Night school of slapstick hagiography, Flame offers a defiantly working-class version of a young band on the rise, surrounding its stars with talentless rivals, bloodsucking club owners, slimy managers, indifferent label execs, wise roadies--and of course, the fans. The plot is boilerplate: Struggling band with no prospects and bad management gets its shit together enough to attract the attention of a record label, which plugs them into the starmaker machinery, only to find that the boys aren't willing to be marketed like "fishfingers." Contract struggles and the fight for dignity ensue.

Again, these are hardly innovative elements for a rock movie, but the relative obscurity of Slade (and the anonymity of its members), the supporting cast of recognizable British character actors like Tom Conti, Johnny Shannon (from Performance), and Kenneth Colley (Admiral Piett from The Empire Strikes Back!), and the dark, wet, smudgy texture of the visuals--early '70s Sheffield, with its dirty streets and boarded windows--combine to make Flame a surprisingly compelling picture… even if you've never heard of the band.

Though there are plenty of clownish elements (all the bands have gimmicks, for example, and names like Iron Rod), the musicians are charming and unpretentious, the bad guys have interesting motivations, and a few of the chunes are really good. Slade was an anthem band, notoriously of and for the people at a time when progressive rock and wussy folk were vying to be the next big thing--the film reflects the band's utilitarian vibe. Flame is a dramatic (and often melodramatic) variation on the timeless theme of impoverished young people fighting the odds to make good. And no matter how many times this story returns, you always root for the heroes.

The DVD (by Shout Factory, a company that excels at resurrecting relics like this) is lovingly campy, featuring an excellent transfer, hilarious cover art, and a hardcore fanboy interview with Slade singer (and Flame star) Noddy Holder.