MAGNET contributing writer Jud Cost is sharing some of the wealth of classic films he’s been lucky enough to see over the past 40 years. Trolling the backwaters of cinema, he has worked up a list of more than 100 titles—from the ’20s through the ’80s—that you may have missed. A new selection, all currently available on DVD, appears every week.
Quadrophenia (1979, 117 minutes)
Quadrophenia is the spellbinding tale of the mid-’60s clash between two passionate British music factions, one hip, the other reactionary: the mods versus the rockers. With mod kids riding Italian motor-scooters, spurred on by 1965 anthems from musical heroes the Who, the Yardbirds and Small Faces, the only awkward soundtrack moments here are a few rock-opera numbers penned in 1973, and sounding like it, by the Who’s Pete Townshend.
Jimmy Cooper (Phil Daniels), invisible as an office mail-boy by day, is a mod by night, buzzing around London in an oversized parka and a skinny tie on his shiny Lambretta, decked out with multiple rearview mirrors. He pulls up to a club and finds Ferdy, the local drug dealer, out front.
“You got something nice for me?” asks Jimmy, searching for cheap amphetamines. “How many you want?” asks Ferdy, his pork-pie hat dipped at a rakish angle. “About a dozen,” answers Jimmy as Ferdy moans. “All right then, 20, but how much?” “They’re scarce. I had to go over the water to get these,” says the pusher. “Oh yeah, you get on a banana boat to Jamaica?” clowns Jimmy. “Nope, Brixton. They’re a quid,” says Ferdy. “You’re a fucking liberty-taker,” groans Jimmy, handing over a one-pound note.
Back at home, Jimmy clips a story from Melody Maker and tacks it to his wall. “Riot Police Fly To Seaside: Battle Of Hastings,” screams the music tabloid’s headline about mods and rockers fighting on the beaches, 75 miles south of London, near Brighton. Jimmy stops off at a public bath and is annoyed at someone singing “Be-Bop-A-Lula” in the next stall over. He shouts, “Oi! Please don’t sing that old rubbish.” The singer bellows, “That ain’t rubbish, pal. That’s Gene Vincent!” Jimmy replies, “Why don’t you just turn over and do a few underwater farts?”
The rocker belts out Gene Vincent even louder as Jimmy bursts into the Kinks’ “You Really Got Me” at the top of his lungs, until a beefy bath employee bangs on both stalls with a mop handle, barking, “Whaddaya think this is, the bloody Eurovision Song Contest?” Jimmy climbs to the top of his wall and is stunned to recognize Kevin (Ray Winstone), an old mate from school, just returned from military service.
Kevin stops by Jimmy’s place the next day to help fine-tune his scooter. When Jimmy admires his friend’s motorcycle, Kevin quips, “Better than that poxy hair-dryer you’re riding.” Jimmy muses, “It ain’t the bikes, it’s the people with all that greasy hair and dirty clobber (gear).” Kevin answers, “I don’t give a monkey’s arsehole about mods and rockers. Underneath, we’re all the same.” “That’s just it,” replies Jimmy. “I don’t want to be the same as everybody else. You might as well jump in the sea and drown.”
