Thus, “Quadrophenia” also boldly proclaims the desire of the members of the Mod gang to belong within their own culture. No one likes the Mods or Rockers, at least no “normal folk” and the two gangs can only find acceptance among people like themselves. Jimmy rises high in the ranks of the Mods and finds full acceptance when he teams up with the ultimate Mod, Ace Face (played by rocker Sting) for several adventures around Brighton. This sense of belonging, however, seems to be illusionary. Despite pulling crazy stunts like vaulting over motorcycles recklessly on his scooter and talking tough to members of the rival Rockers, Jimmy finds that “acting cool” cannot truly buy the long-lasting respect of society. His girlfriend, Steph, leaves him for Ace Face and his drug addiction is getting worse. His family turns their back on him and the law begins a ferocious pursuit of him for some petty crime that has reared its ugly head from his past. “Quadrophenia,” for the most part, follows an undulating plot arc in which good events that happen to Jimmy are followed by unfortunate events. As the plot continues, these unfortunate events build, throwing dirt onto the once glamorized image of Mods and Rockers. The society that Jimmy was once a part of now begins to privately judge him and the society that he never was able to quite penetrate (the society of “normal people” threatens to imprison and fine him. As Jimmy drives away from all his friends and the culture he has known for so many years, “Quadrophenia” illustrates the theme that true belonging is not found by conforming to any stereotype of culture – it is in finding yourself. Jimmy’s echoing final cry that marks the film’s conclusion is not any expression of Mod slang, but the simple triumphant cry of “Me!” as he rockets his car over a cliff, ending the confusion of belonging.
The second film expression of British subculture is less about the psychological frustrations and pressures a British youth faces and more about what started it all – the music. Director Michael Winterbottom captures the British punk rock scene from 1977 to 1997 within the confines of “Madchester,” a virtual factory for breeding semi-violent rockers with rebellious attitudes and confidence in the way they took the steamy underground stages within the underbelly of London and systematically rose to the top to take the music world by storm. Backed by British underground punk rockers, The Sex Pistols, and other timely rock groups, “24 Hour Party People” is less about the sad conclusion and more about the musical adventure that its characters call life. As Tony Wilson, the main character played brilliantly by Steve Coogan puts it, “It was like being on a fantastic fairground ride, centrifugal forces throwing us wider and wider.” Like “Quadrophenia,” “24 Hour Party People” is accurate in its portrayal of the wardrobe and attitudes of rebellious inhabitants of the 1970’s and 1980’s. Nothing is right or wrong in the world of Madchester, only musical. Characters decide to be postmodern because it’s “fashionable” and points of view fly like fists in a barroom brawl that pummels the audience with thrilling guitar riffs and elevated voices, yelling in passion and fascination. No one bothers to disprove of what anyone says – working at “The Factory” is all about expressing your opinion and doing so in the most boisterous manner possible. This makes for an interesting ride of a cinematic experience and also captures the attitudes of those who dared to be different in the music industry of the UK.
However, “24 Hour Party People” also touches upon the theme of belonging, though it doesn’t treat the subject quite as heavily as “Quadrophenia.” In Winterbottom’s film, belonging is enjoying music together. The acted scenes are cut together with footage from actual concerts from the 1970’s and beyond, portraying moshing young fans screaming the lyrics along with the wildly dressed members of the Sex Pistols, The Buzzcocks, and New Order, to name a few of the now legendary musicians who grace the soundtrack of this inventive film. Music is, thus, the thread that holds this film together. Though the many characters, from Coogan’s constantly coked out music producer, Tony Wilson, to the soft-spoken but passionate manager of Joy Division and New Order (Paddy Considine) come from different backgrounds and states of mind, they are drawn together by their love of music. Thus, standing in the midst of an energetic crowd, one finds the true spirit of community, what some would say is the essence of the British punk rock scene, and the unlikely theme of the comedic antics which compose “24 Hour Party People.”
What is more, the judicious following of Tony Wilson’s career as the founder of Factory Records also adds support to the theme of finding oneself and belonging to a world that spins with a madness worse than the drugged out velocity of Madchester. Wilson first discovers his passion for unique music at one of the first Sex Pistols concert, a concert that he experiences in the company of only thirty-nine other people. Despite the relative unpopularity of the then underground punk rock scene, Wilson decides that he wants to make music that counters the Britpop flowing melodically from the radios of so many British households. He finds his true goal in life and the audience follows him through the signing of Joy Division and the emergence of New Order that makes Factory Records a musical success and secures its place in the world. The struggle of a British youth and more specifically of a British youth immersed in punk subculture is mirrored by the rise of the young Tony Wilson who succeeds at a dream that, no doubt, many young British boys and girls who have danced privately to burned CDs they discovered half-buried under rubbish in their backyards have had.
Finally, no film has enjoyed as much cult success and captured a snapshot of emergent youth subculture than Danny Boyle’s “Trainspotting.” Set in Edinburgh, “Trainspotting” is an examination of a group of young Scottish drug addicts who try to find their place in the world and perhaps true happiness during romps of any and every form of drug and alcohol abuse, sex, and reckless behavior. It is madness portrayed as an art form, backed by the spacy narration of Mark “Rent-Boy” Renton (Ewan McGregor) who tries to make sense out of the quickly spinning world he inhabits. When released, ‘Trainspotting” was criticized for its moral depravity and possible glorification of drug use, but others hailed it as an accurate portrayal of the experiences of the British youth. In fact, through colorful imagery, original wardrobe choices, quick editing, pulsating musical beats, and bold directorial style, “Trainspotting” succeeds at enveloping its audience in a world where accurate perception is inversely related to amount of drugs consumed. The humanity of “Trainspotting’s” characters is actually quite humbling. In truth, Renton and his cronies are not unlike the youth in any culture, trying to find meaning in life, tempted by the physical pleasures they are consistently bombarded with, and valuing brotherhood and love above everything else.
Brotherhood and love do not come easily, however, and Renton and his friends are not energetic enough to pursue what is not easily obtained. Drugs, on the other hand, are rather easy to come by and so is sex for the more attractive members of the posse.
Trainspotting One excellent aspect of drug culture that is brilliantly illustrated through Boyle’s direction is the moral paranoia that follows heavy drug abuse. Through bright hues and awkwardly skewed camera angles, Boyle captures the uncertainty that overwhelms the drug fiends. They do not know what is real and what is not and, more importantly, they do not really know what is right or wrong either. Another aspect of this subculture that is also accurately portrayed is the gender familiarity among British youth. Women are usually present as sex objects in “Trainspotting,” and male friendship is valued highly, creating a kind of pseudo-brotherhood. The female participation in the drugged out escapades that permeate the events of the film is minimal and the search for the next “high” in their miserable lives is usually accompanied by the informal band of brothers of Renton, Spud (Ewan Bremmer) and Sick Boy (Jonny Lee Miller.” The boys are loyal to each other and, in most cases, will put their unstable friendship above a bag of marijuana or a thimble-ful of heroin. This loyalty is an example of the general sense of belonging that envelops the drug culture of “Trainspotting.” The characters have equal goals – to find more drugs in order to get more pleasure into their bodies – and they inhabit an equally seedy existence, populated with dirty-faced scoundrels and physically violent ruffians. Though not a noble final goal, the collective quest for more powerful and longer lasting drugs is what drives the characters of “Trainspotting” together from scene to scene. In this general sense, drugs are what keeps the story going and what keeps the characters from leaving their miserable existences.
In a more specific sense, this reality is most perfectly understood by Renton, the narrator and perhaps the least brain-damaged of the group. In a sarcastically-delivered monologue, Renton tells the audience (and himself) to “choose life.” He realizes that his constant search for better drugs is an unhealthy lifestyle and not life itself. Though he sarcastically mocks common people for their materialistic pursuit of cars and wealth and happiness, it is clear that he understands that their failures and worst moments are still infinitely better than the best highs he can discover. Thus, his quest for belonging and finding himself soars higher than the baser desires of the rest of the film and the audience roots for him to finally see the error of his ways and to “choose life.” This character arc drives Renton out of the structure of the rest of the story and forces him to a fork in the road as he and his friends steal 16,000 pounds worth of cocaine from some dangerous drug dealers. While this successful heist may seem like the ultimate moment of joy, and it briefly is, for the struggling drug addict, the happiness that it brings quickly fades into the mundane miserable circumstances that Renton discovers he cannot leave behind as long as he considers himself part of drug culture. When explosively irate hothead Francis Begbie (Robert Carlyle,) a frequent companion of the youths nearly beats a man to death in a pub on the day that they are celebrating their newfound wealth, Renton decides that it is time for him to run with the money – to flee the friends he now considers false. He takes the money and his passport and leaves to find the “life” that he has been pining for throughout the course of the film and, the audience hopes, to leave the seedy drug culture that he has long been a part of behind. What is unique about this development is that it breaks the mold of subculture that the entire film has been developing prior to Renton’s monumental decision. The music-fueled, drug-infested subculture that has been the movie’s setting and environment is no longer good. Renton leaves it behind and with this action, director Boyle closes the shutter on his camera lens and the portrayal of drug culture is blocked for good. The ambiguity of belonging appears to be remedied by Renton’s decision to abandon his fake friends and drug addiction for a better life. That is, we have returned to the theme first expressed by the Who’s “Quadrophenia,” that to truly belong in this world, one has to be an individual and resist conforming to any specific form of culture. In the words of one colloquial phrase, one has to “dare to be different.”
In conclusion, the cult film classics that have captured imaginations with their portrayals of visually-astonishing and character-rich scenes of British subculture have all seemed to illustrate a common theme. Subcultures attempt to counter the current trends in pop culture by being different, but in so doing, their members also you’re a sense of individuality. Being a part of any “scene” is dangerous in that it tempts oneself to imitate the dress, speech, and actions of others. In this sense, the members of “Quadrophenia,” “24 Hour Party People,” and “Trainspotting” are all trying desperately to be rebels together and the reality of this experiment is that it is doomed for failure before conception. The more important point is that whether your name is Jimmy or Tony Wilson or Mark Renton, the true way to exist on an individual level and “choose life” is to find a voice, whether it melodically croons classical arias or whether it is more comfortable screaming out the verses to “Baba O’ Reilly” and to stay true to that voice. If you can do that, these bold filmmakers say, there should be no need to form a subculture that is only comfortable under metaphorical stones and between metaphorical sidewalk cracks. “Choosing life” should be an action that being as a private conviction, but then becomes publicly inspiring, just as these three films can inspire British youth for years to come.
Bibliography
Apostolov, Apostol. “Youth Culture and Fashion: Academic Research on Trainspotting” 2003 <http://elt.britcoun.org.pl/elt/y_stud1.htm
Collins, Jim. “Film Theory Goes to the Movies.” Routledge Press: 1992.
Hall, Stuart. “Resistance Through Rituals.” Routledge Press: 1990.
Quadrophenia. Dir. Franc Roddam. Perf. Phil Daniels, Sting. World Nothal, 1979.
Trainspotting. Dir. Danny Boyle. Perf. Ewan McGregor, Ewan Bremmer. Miramax Films, 1996.
24 Hour Party People. Dir. Michael Winterbottom. Perf. Steve Coogan, Paddy Considine. Pathe Distribution Ltd, 2002.
