Have you ever wanted to know where Ethan Hawke stayed when he was having marital problems? Or maybe hear the painfully detailed first-person account of some guy who had a brain aneurysm in his apartment and wasn’t found for three days? These and other extremely boring topics are covered extensively in Chelsea on the Rocks, which documents the last of the long-term residents living in New York City’s Hotel Chelsea, a storied haven for musicians and artists and unsolved murders. Unfortunately, Rocks picks up years after anything interesting happened there. The basic premise here is that the board of trustees has replaced Stanley Bard, the pushover of a superintendent, with an actual property-management company, and now all the quirky artist-types have to pay rent on time, whereas they may or may not have had to in the past. Director Abel Ferrara squanders the subject matter’s already paltry potential, and you soon find yourself screaming, “Why should anyone give a shit?”
Countless hours of interview footage with shiftless layabouts and various unidentified bores are whittled down to what seem like countless hours of interview footage with shiftless layabouts and various unidentified bores. In an apparent attempt to introduce some variety, Ferrara splices in public-access-quality reenactments of more interesting times—Sid Vicious passed out on a bed, Nancy Spungen getting stabbed in the stomach, Janis Joplin drinking whiskey. But with little explanation, these sections only add to the incoherence. Interviewees are not identified, backstory is largely absent, and the excruciating anecdotes of the residents will be lost on pretty much anyone who doesn’t currently live there. Rocks feels like it was made from the outtakes of some other extremely dull film on the same subject. It’s hard to believe this joint came from the same director as Bad Lieutenant, until you remember that the only good thing about Bad Lieutenant was Harvey Keitel. 
Spot on! I thought this film would be on the history of the numerous celebrities and artists who at one time or another stayed at the Chelsea; the works they created there; and interesting stories related to their experiences. And why no discussion of Hawke’s film Chelsea Walls?
Whoever was responsible for “Sid’s” wig should be taken out and shot.