REVIEWED - DIG!: Anton Newcombe, lead singer of The Brian Jonestown Massacre, probably likes to think of the rivalry between his band and fellow Californians The Dandy Warhols as a contemporary version of that between the Beatles and the Stones. Every action in Newcombe's professional career seems to have been carried out with one eye on the 1960s.
The unbalanced, charismatic singer should, therefore, be delighted that Ondi Timoner, an energetic young film-maker from an Ivy League background, has now given him his own Don't Look Back.
Of course, DA Pennebaker's film about Bob Dylan observed a young talent emulsifying hunks of Woody Guthrie and shreds of Elvis Presley to produce a previously undocumented substance. Dig!, though brilliantly entertaining, reveals the Dandies and the BJM as little more than rock'n'roll reactionaries. Rebellion seems to have become a career option.
Such revelations are, however, part of what makes this rambling, baggy film such a delight. Timoner first met Newcombe in 1995, while researching a TV series following the fortunes of 10 unsigned bands. After watching a Brian Jonestown Massacre gig descend into mayhem, Ondi was introduced to the group's weird, confused front-man. Newcombe suggested that she focus her attention on his band and the then unknown Dandy Warhols.
At this stage the two acts were on good terms but, as the Dandies gained success and the BJM didn't, Newcombe, increasingly unhinged and erratic, began to view his rivals as hopeless sell-outs.
The film touches down briefly in Dublin as it follows the Dandies around the world. Meanwhile the BJM, all of whose opportunities are squandered by Newcombe, potter about America failing to become the next big thing. The Dandy Warhols get away with a warning when they are caught smoking dope in Europe. The Brian Jonestown Massacre get busted in Georgia for possession of a single joint.
Filmed over seven years in a variety of media, Dig! gradually develops into an engrossing epic of complementary fortunes. As appalled by the bands' excesses as it is in love with their faux bohemianism, the picture will have anthropological interest even for those who gave up on rock when a Clash record appeared beneath a Levi's commercial.
(Should you wish to check the BJM out, you can legally download swathes of their immense back catalogue for free at www.brianjonestownmassacre.com. And Anton wonders why he's still broke.)
