Documentary about writer and performance artist Bob Flanagan who died at 43 of cystic fibrosis. His life was indicated by pain from the beginning and he started to develop sadomasochistic ... See full summary »
Documentary about the life and death of the notorious underground punk icon GG Allin, the foul mouthed, heroin shooting lead singer of the Murder Junkies, who would throw excrement at the crowd, start fights with the biggest guys in the audience, and threatened to kill himself onstage. He was considered the lowest common denominator of our society by some, an avant-garde artist by others. He died of an overdose in the early 90's. Written by
GG Allin died of a heroin overdose during post-production. The filmmakers shot additional material on his death for inclusion in the film. A bonus feature on the region 1 DVD shows a still of Allin lying in his coffin. He is dressed in a jacket and jock strap. See more »
Although he passed away in a typical rock star way (heroin overdose) in 1993, nothing else in GG's life could ever be considered typical. Yes, it is true that GG Allin makes Marilyn Manson look like a Sunday school teacher, but to focus on that is missing the point of this movie. As a fan of rock music, I can understand exactly where GG is coming from when he says that there is a great void in rock music today, that there is no soul behind the stars of the music industry. Where is the senseless destruction? Where is the violence? Where is the hyper-obscene sexuality that once offended legions of conservative suburbanites in the 1950's and 60's? Feeling that since he is the only one with the guts to do anything about it, GG took it upon himself to single-handedly compensate for all the boring cookie-cutter rock stars that anxiously collect royalty checks and live in $10 million mansions. GG willingly suffered to be a martyr for rock music, frequently going so far that once, warrants were out for his arrest in at least seven states at the same time! One scene that particularly hit me was this: GG is shown walking out of a court room after being handed down one of the many prison sentences he received in his life. As he walks by the camera, he exclaims triumphantly, "They're trying to destroy rock and roll but they CAN'T DO IT!" It is strange for me to admit that as a touching statement, especially when said by a man who is repeatedly shown sprawled out naked on stage, smothered in his own blood, urine, and feces, but at the same time, you wonder-- does anyone else out there in that nameless faceless monolith of rock give a damn about what they're doing enough to sacrifice their life for the name of it?
This movie is not for casual patrons of rock-- only a true lover of it will be able to transcend the gruesome, appetite-suppressing, often vomit-inducing qualities of the film. Endlessly fascinating, pathetic, disgusting, tragic, and perplexing, Hated is one the greatest rock documentaries ever made.
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