If you’re a fan of the American punk-tinged psychedelic garage revival rock band the Fuzztones, then your cup will floweth over with lysergic-spiked joy with this deep dive into the band’s 50-odd year history. If you’re not a fan, it’s a bit of a slog as rock docs go. It’s not that the music isn’t interesting, albeit somewhat numbing in its adherence to a distinctive sound and beat that lead guitarist and general frontman Rudi Protrudi (né Glen Dalpis, born 1952) has been noodling with for years. An undoubtedly accomplished musician but a hard party-er par excellence, Protrudi’s commitment to penning tunes about drugs, sex and death has been unswerving.
But this film isn’t really about the music as such; it’s more of a band bio with director Danny Garcia recording Protrudi and his many, many collaborators past and present as they recount the endless quarrels over musical differences, drawn-out tours, and line-up reshuffles. Protrudi also went off to do other side projects with other musicians, including singer-performance artist Ann Magnuson with whom he formed a mock heavy metal band Vulcan Death Grip as a joke, like a proto-Spinal Tap; for the life of me I can’t quite see the difference between the spoof and the real thing.
It all blurs together as it goes on, into a somewhat comic, saggy-fleshed portrait of middle-aged disappointment, proud of not having ever “sold out”. As storytelling, the film is repetitive and Protrudi, for all his talent, is a bit of a blowhard. Someone someday might get hold of this and find inspiration for something funnier, sharper and deeper about the inherent absurdity of career rockers touring small venues in eastern Europe and the American midwest for beer money and groupies.
• The Fuzztones vs the World is in UK cinemas from 31 January.
