I didn’t know when I started my foray into horror writing three months ago that I would be going through my own lifetime wish list of movies to watch, but here I am again. I’m not the most technologically advanced of humans, so it took me until this year to get a copy of Cocksucker Blues. I heard about this movie ten years ago, when I was at the height of my Stones fandom, but of course couldn’t find a copy.
Now, I was excited when I watched Gimme Shelter the same year I first heard of Cocksucker Blues, so excited I watched it all by myself, at my trailer in the flatwoods 30 minutes from town then I called up my best friend, said, “you have to come out here right now and watch this movie.” So he did, and a religious experience was had.
That gives you some idea of what I have, as Ferris Bueller said about Cameron losing his virginity, built up in my mind as the be all end all of human existence. If I liked Gimme Shelter, surely I would love love love Cocksucker Blues. I mean, it is banned to this day, except for the filmmaker’s allowed yearly screening. This was supposed to be the sacred relic of sleaze! Especially the fabled groupie/roadie gangbang on an airplane, a flying airplane I believe, although no one on the plane as it turns out would have noticed if they had boarded them all on in New York, shut the door, opened it, told them they were in LA, and put them out. The twist to this scene was to be the Stones playing musical accompaniment. Well, there’s Mick with some kind of maraca deal and some guy playing a tambourine while a couple of two-pump chumps get it on with two girls for less than two minutes. Ta Daaah!
I know I do go on about being from the South, but believe me when I say that the only dialogue in the entire movie that I understood was a southern girl talking about how she always wanted to meet Keith because she had seen him on TV with an earring made out of a tooth. No one else in the film at any time said anything intelligible apart from a man called Marshall who gave a rambling explanation of the genesis of the title song. The soundtrack didn’t go with the action and the action was stream-of-consciousness. Don’t try and tell me that was for artistic purposes, not when I just saw a woman eat a heaping tablespoon of cocaine. I’m not kidding.
I saw the Rolling Stones on tour in 1989 and they sounded better than they did on this tour, which was for goddamn Exile on Main Street! Their supposed best album (I prefer Let It Bleed, but what can you do.) The only thing that shocked me about this film, other than how boring it was, was the large amount of footage of Mick and Keith actually hanging out together. Oh, and Mick Jagger needed a dollar bill to roll a joint. You would think he would have been a pro by then.
If Motley Crue had made this movie in 1992, they would have showed it at the multiplex with an NC-17 rating. That guy in the cancelled American show “Life on Mars” was pissed cause he got sent back to 1972 and 1972 was supposed to be so hopeless compared to our time. Well, send me back to 1972, honey, if this is the most shocking thing you got! I don’t know if the world got uglier since then, or if we just hear about it more, but things sure seem more hopeless now.
I give it 2 stars, and one of those is because raise your hand, we got to see some titties. And the other is because I like typing the word “cocksucker” with impunity.