QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM TALLINN
Rock has the power to elevate emotions into intuition, as has been found since the 1970’s; a time when music documentary became a genre of cinema unto itself. Emilis Vėlyvis’s feature carries the format forward, with an overview of Lithuanian musician Saulius Urbonavičius (stagename is Samas) ‘s life. In this memento, people discuss the challenges imposed by the Soviet Union prior to the collapse of the Berlin Wall.
Archive footage of BIX shows a group capable of driving teenagers wild; footage of students po-going across the halls makes for engaging moments of enjoyment. Parcels left in Berlin are returned to Samas decades after they were left behind; “33 years ago.” Memories may change regarding a time period, but they never leave creative individuals (or anyone, come to think about it). The talking heads and participants smile as they remember the joy they spread through their music.
Peppering shots of Samas’s domicile, Emilis Vėlyvis keeps the focus on the band’s importance and legacy. “We saw ourselves as part of the punk movement,” one person boasts. “Because this was a protest”, they conclude. Anger fuelled this group as it did The Sex Pistols, The Damned and Nirvana. An adolescence not spent in rage isn’t one that interests most documentarians, so BIX Almost Nirvana wisely investigates this part of their arsenal. Tellingly, nobody speaks up for the culture of the time, to counter this viewpoint, which is why the work is slanted towards one mindset alone. The sound of Ronald Reagan gallantly asking “Mr.Gorbachev, take down this wall” furthers the quasi-jingostic undertone.
BIX Almost Nirvana works best when it explores the band’s passion for art and creativity, displaying some genuinely exhilarating tunes during the montage sections. Samas harbours a passion for painting, as well as karate, a cocktail that informs his rebellious sound. As an independent thinker, Samas flirts with iconography, dressing up in a gas mask as he re-produces a tune from his younger years. There is context to the feature, and this isn’t some cheap, tacky way of repackaging his work for a younger audience.
Samas is an incredibly interesting figure to watch. His whole body reacts to the music he creates, summoning parts of his soul as he picks up a microphone. His band BIX were acquaintances of Nirvana’s; Samas’s oeuvre bore some of the hallmarks of Kurt Cobain’s. Some of the shots are very funny to sit through, not least an image of an inflatable animal swallowing the bus it sits on top of.
Bix Almost Nirvana has a discernible bias – championing Western ideals for their celebration of youth culture. The movie’s greatest failing is that it is one-sided in outlook and revisionist philosophy – to the point of didacticism. Bands typically commend The Beatles and The Rolling Stones for their exhibition of freedom, forgetting that anthems Back in the USSR and Street Fighting Man were indebted to the idealism instigated by countries on the Eastern spectrum.
A political biasnotwithstanding, Vėlyvis has curated a clear, cohesive overview of the band. Contextualising the musician in a contemporary and historical geography, the director shows that Samas is a human capable of tremendous achievements, and baffling decisions. Fans love to put their favourite icons onto pedestals, so it’s vital that behind-the-scenes work de-mystify these figures to showcase a more low-key side to them. Humanity shouldn’t be a fixture to documentaries alone, but it will be a sad day when it cannot guide the work.
BIX Almost Nirvana premiered in the Doc@PÖFF Baltic Competition of the 29th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival.
