Relationships can be odd things can’t they? (So I’ve been
told). When you try to examine what draws two people together and what keeps
them together through thick and thin it can be for the smallest and most
insignificant of reasons. In fact to most people it seems to hardly matter at
all, the only thing that matters is that they are still together despite having
no idea of why they remain in that state. Worse still is how brutally destructive
a relationship can be, the aftershocks of it reverberate far further than just
the two people directly involved in it and half of the time they are so
unpredictable that the damage can be due to both the success and failure of
said relationship. Such is the case with Alex Cox’s ‘Sid and Nancy’, a tale of
sex, drugs and rock n’ roll, or at least on the surface it is.
It tells the true story of Sid Vicious, the notorious bass
player of the equally notorious Sex Pistols, and his relationship with American
groupie Nancy Spungen. It was a relationship fuelled by drugs and violence and
ended rather appropriately and tragically when Vicious awoke one morning in New
York’s Chelsea Hotel to find her dead body. Having been arrested on suspicion
of murder and subsequently bailed Vicious himself died shortly afterwards from
a heroin overdose at just 21 years old.
True to the live fast, die young attitude that seems to
permeate the music industry Cox’s film is seeping with energy and rhythm,
portraying its two title characters as renegades who almost existed outside of
society itself. They seemed to watch in glee as the world went to hell around them,
they didn’t care, they had each other. That ideology is personified in arguably
the film’s most famous shot, the two locked in an embrace in an alleyway as
garbage, thrown from the higher storeys, falls around them. On the surface the relationship
seems to be one of pure sexual attraction and while the film can easily be
viewed as a brief and anarchic tale of love, a closer look reveals a much more
complex and ultimately more unnerving truth.
The amount of subtle nuances thrown towards the audience is
astonishing and comes mainly through the two fantastic lead performances. Gary
Oldman is one of the most expressionistic and versatile actors in recent cinema
history (although if his breakout role is 30 years old can that really be
called “recent” now?) and his role in ‘Sid and Nancy’ may be his crowning
achievement. Every cell and fibre of his body is fully invested and committed
to bringing Vicious to life on the silver screen. From the tiniest of
mannerisms to the loudest and most obnoxious screams, everything works to
cement the character as everything his reputation suggests and even more than
that.
He turns such a seemingly repulsive and reprehensible
character into an unflinching look at fame, aggression and juvenile glee. He
retains the more loathsome characteristics of Vicious but also underpins them
with an unexpected injection of sympathy. From his upbringing to the fact that
he was famous before he had even found his own identity, Oldman’s performance
allows us to understand the position he finds himself in. Cox’s script is able
to complement this kind of performance, never asking us to like Vicious, just
to understand him.
As a result of that we get a better understanding of the
relationship that lies at the centre of the film. Neither of these two really
lived long enough to decide what they wanted to do with their lives, all they
knew was that their fame seemed to rely on continually being as fucked up as
possible. So can we really blame them for living the way they did? One can
never say that neither of them at least tried to better themselves or improve
one another. Nancy pushed her boyfriend to try harder, wanted to ensure that he
was given his due within the band and really make something of him. Not to say
that she was exploitative, the film makes that clear, she acted this way
because she loved him and wanted what was best for him.
I do not hesitate to apply the word “love” to the relationship
portrayed in ‘Sid and Nancy’ because for all the fallout, destruction and
loathing, those two idiots needed each other. Beneath the pain and anger is a
deep dependence for each other, with Vicious as a boy who was still a man, in
need of self-esteem and self-control and Nancy wanting someone to care for and
depend upon her. Beneath the drugs and bewilderment there is a sense that they
were truly meant for each other and their mad and quick trail of destruction
was permeated with moments of blissful tenderness.
Credit there goes to Alex Cox, whose story of rage and fury
contained a violent and damaged relationship at its centre, and somewhere within
that mess of pain and confusion Cox was able to single out the more tender and intimate
moments. That story at the centre of meticulous and focussed and like the real
story could have flowered into something beautiful if not destroyed by the
spiralling storm of drugs and fame around them. You really get a sense of
tragedy and loss lying at the heart of the film.
You feel that loss because, almost shockingly, by the end of
the film you realise you have come to know these characters quite well. Whether
you love them, hate them or simply understand them there is no denying that by
the time the credits roll you feel as if you have witnessed the snapshot that
represented their lives and now an abrupt and empty space is left where they
were. ‘Sind and Nancy’ tells a very conventional story and shrouds it in
anarchy to make it look unfamiliar enough to be engaging. The two people being portrayed
are indeed very different from us, but at their core lie the same dreams and
the same pain that we all share.
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