What We Do Is Secret
Let’s start with I did not want to see this movie. Eff Shane West as the new Darby Crash for one reason: fake glass. 2006 Warped Tour. So stoked to see that the Germs were playing. Booked out of some interviews to utilize my fancy pants press pass to get a solid view from the photo pit. Racket Mike was up first, and he comes back after a song and a half, tells me to put out my hand, which I do. I then see him shove a broken piece of glass into my hand, which immediately falls apart. What the hell? Stage glass. Fucker tried to imitate a man who would cut himself on stage by hitting himself in the head with a fake beer bottle. Digression!
All this made me froth at the mouth at the mention of Shane West and the bastard offspring of The Germs. So when a lovely young lass from another magazine (conspirator, I know) asks you to go see the jerk wad in a movie about one of the bands that made me who I am today, you go. Equal parts attractive and rad. The lady, not the movie. The flick, and it pains me to say this, is fucking solid. I wanted to hate it, I wanted to come out of the theatre vindicated and kicking and cursing Pat Smear for having anything to do with this blasphemy. But, it’s probably one of the best biopics I’ve ever seen.
Rick Gonzalez (dude from Biker Boyz and Old School) is fantastic at showing how boring a guitarist Pat Smear is to watch, Bijou Phillips was smokin’ as Lorna Doom and Noah Segan (Days of Our Lives?!) makes me want to punch Don Bolles…or maybe give him a hug. One of the two. The soundtrack made me dig up some oldies but goodies, fucking Germs, David Bowie, X and the Weirdos are all making me want to shun my apathy and break something.And finally: Shane Fuck West. I thought he did a bang up job. I really did. Darby Crash was a very smart dude who knew exactly how to fuck with people. West portrayed that with the utmost realism. And I hate that I fucking loved this flick. Goddammit
-Jonathan “The Emperor” Yost