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Ripe as it is for Hollywood, the rise and fall of Syd Barrett may not even be the best story in the history of Pink Floyd to bring to the cinema By Patrick Keller Rumors of a "Syd" movie have been around almost since he left the band. And why not? The story (not to mention reality) of Syd's rise to fame and subsequent fall from grace is filled with all the things that make Hollywood damp in the trousers: sex, bad clothes, drug (ab)use, fame, fortune, more sex, rock 'n' roll, and, of course, bitter conflict. I have to confess, before I continue, that Syd's music has never been of much more than academic interest to me. Perhaps it's the relative infancy of recording techniques back then, or the "hippie-dippy" lyrics about elves and kittens that just don't twiddle my knobs. I don't know, but for whatever reason, I rarely listen to anything older than Meddle. Yet, time and time again, literature about the band spends a disproportionate amount of time talking about the Syd era, especially considering that he was in the group for only about four or five years of their 30+ year career. I don't mind it necessarily, except that it comes at the cost of valuable column inches that could be spent discussing the nuances of the periods I am more interested in. However, it's not hard to grasp why journalists and movie producers (and, yes, fans) love the idea of telling Syd's story. His meteoric rise to fame and sudden decent, followed by his removal from the group and their struggles (and eventual triumphs) make for an obvious story arc. His appearance in the studio during their subsequent tribute to him makes for an ending that no Hollywood screenwriter could concoct. On top of this is the metaphoric value of telling the story of a sixties icon ruined by fame, drugs, and mental illness (though I have a feeling that the mental illness factor would be glossed over, if discussed at all). In hindsight, Syd's story is the sixties encapsulated. Only, he's not. Syd isn't even "Syd." He's Roger Barrett, a human being, and a very vulnerable one at that. By all accounts, he's on tenuous ground with his past, and barely maintaining a very fragile balance with his present. A feature film on his life could draw even more attention to him and cause irreparable damage. No matter how great a story it may make, there is no way this film should be made during the man's lifetime. Fortunately, there are rules in place to prevent just such a thing, not the least of which are the permissions necessary to tell the tale of someone's life. However, these kinds of things have been side-stepped before, notably in the case of the Beatles with Backbeat, which told the story of the tempestuous relationship between original Beatle Stu Sutcliffe and John Lennon, and Two of Us, the VH1 telepic about the tempestuous (starting to see a pattern?) post-Beatles relationship between Paul McCartney and Lennon. Backbeat side-stepped the issue of permissions by telling the story of two dead men (as one critic pointed out, dead men file no lawsuits), and the woman who came between them. Now, as for the other film, I have no idea how Paul McCartney didn't step in and put a stop to it, except perhaps that either he didn't care, or that VH1's lawyers heavily played up the "fictionalized" aspect of the story enough for it to scrape by. Either way, it presents some loopholes for the makers of the "Syd Story," but fortunately we have the very able legal team of Waters, Wright, Gilmour & Mason to turn to. The most obvious tactic at their disposal would be to refuse to license the rights to the music, thus quashing the picture before a single frame was shot. As it should be, I say. If you really must know more about Syd, pick up any one of the excellent books on the subject. They will go into far more detail than any film ever could, and also avoid the sort of mass media hype that films of this sort seem to invite. And even if you still maintain your attachment to the idea of Syd on the silver screen, keep this in mind: A film can be nothing more than a short story. Screenwriters that try to pack an entire novel into a movie are either practicing an act of absolute futility or are going to wind up with a script that is utterly unfilmable. Attempting to bring someone's life story, even just a few years of that life, will end up leaving out important details, or skimming the surface, or even just getting them plain old wrong. Any way you slice it, you will be disappointed. This is not to suggest that I would never want to see a Floyd movie of any sort. I suppose that a biopic about Syd would be forgivable after his passing (not that I am in any haste for that event), but I really want to see the Floyd on the silver screen in a different way. Anybody who was paying attention in the previous paragraphs should be able to make a fairly accurate guess at what era of the Floyd I am thinking of. Here's a hint: which era had even more of the qualities mentioned above, and then some? With the recent release of the live Wall album, we've been given some absolutely stunning insights into the band and its relationships. The frankness and candor with which the members of the band and participants in the project spoke (though with an equal dose of good old English diplomacy) is jaw-dropping to a longtime Floyd fan like myself. Things only hinted at previously (like the dismissal of Rick Wright, for example) are now disclosed in almost excruciating detail. With that in mind, I began to envision a way to tell the story of easily the most tumultuous period in the band's history. There are four central conflicts/storylines to be resolved, each in turn, though admittedly they don't come to a resolution so much as a dead stop. There is the slow, yet permanent crumbling of the friendship between Nick Mason and Roger Waters, Roger's disillusionment with the workings of the music industry and the politics of the band, Rick Wright's inability to contribute to the band he helped found and his eventual dismissal, and, finally, the decay of the working relationship between the band's two leaders. Central, of course, to all of these conflicts, is Roger Waters. Any story is about change, usually the change(s) that the central character must go through to attain his eventual goal. While all of the Floyds went through significant changes, the instrument of that change as well as the one most changed is undeniably Roger. And that is why the film centers around him, and is told more or less from his point-of-view. The picture would open in a limousine, with a sunglassed Roger Waters sitting, alone. In his mind, through a series of flashbacks (and, eventually, flashforwards) we see the story of the making of The Wall and the unmaking of the band unfold. The flashbacks begin with the infamous "spitting incident." It is important to convey not only Roger's disgust with his own behavior, but David's as well, himself retreating before the conclusion of the show. Jumping from there to years later, as the Wall itself is being constructed on-stage. The band pulling together for a history-making piece of rock and roll theater. Hours and hours of rehearsals go by, all with Roger controlling the proceedings with an iron grip (or, perhaps more accurate, a dedicated vision). Rick is there, and yet not there. Through Rick, we flash back to his attempt at producing the record, simply by showing up. The band meets and Rick is fired, yet agrees to stay on for the show. Back at the rehearsals, Roger and David exit together, and Roger tells his bandmate, heartbreakingly, that they must never stop working together. Then, through David, we move forward to the mid-eighties, where he has just received the news that Roger has left the band, following a conflict with the management. After some consideration, he phones Nick and asks him if they want to continue. Nick recalls some of the more pleasant times with Roger, but accepts Dave's offer. Pink Floyd will go on. The legal battle begins, refreshing memories of bitter conflicts of the past, specifically in the studio. Who could forget the infamous battle over the drums for "Comfortably Numb"? Roger and Dave, position at opposite poles, with Bob Ezrin in the impossible position of mediating the two men. And yet, there are times of absolute brilliance, times when it's easy to see why the band has remained together. The three men--Ezrin, Waters, and Gilmour--chugging away in the studio, Ezrin editing the raw brilliance of Waters, and Gilmour adding the sheen of a consummate musician and composer. Yet just four years later, things in the studio have become unbearable. Rick is gone, Nick is losing interest and David has given up. Still, none of the men are willing to let go. The band holds something for all of them, but whatever that may be has been lost underneath all the conflict. Particularly, the friendship between Nick and Roger is cooling to the point where David's offer can overcome Nick's devotion to his friend. The problem, obviously, is where to end? There is no shortage of material, and the story is still on-going. It would be (so) nice to tell the entire story of the band up to the present, but when dealing with a movie, it's important to consider the arc of the central character. Where does he begin and where should he end up? Roger started the film as a fearsome demagogue, so where should he end up? There is no easy answer, and, in the case of film, it's important to remember the visual element. We began with a flashback to a concert, the film should probably end that way. One of the most powerful images to come out of the continuing story recently was Rick Wright's attendance of the 1999 Atlanta In the Flesh concert. The way I see it, Rick, watching from the audience, sees Roger back on stage, this time at peace with his relationships, his audience, and his past. He plays a touching rendition of "Wish You Were Here", and Rick flashes back to the band's induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, as they perform the same song. And in a way, the band has been reunited. Not in a physical sense, but a musical one. And as Roger sings, we fade to black. The lights come up, but the music plays on. As it should be. Patrick Keller is currently available for children's parties, weddings and bar mitzvahs. Head shots and further details are available at http://gern.cjb.net/ or by e-mailing blansten@iname.com -- Offer not valid in Tennessee. |
