10 Things the CBGB Movie Got Wrong
The CBGB biopic is out this week, and with it, the collective sound of every living old punk groaning. As we wrote in the review, this thing is a real stinker--a mostly turgid, boring-as-hell, campy slog. There's a lot the film misses, but that's forgivable, we suppose: It's hard to wrap up that much history in 90 minutes. Things were bound to get left out. What's more irksome are the things the movie gets wrong; some of them glaring, some admittedly nitpicky. Anyway, we decided to get our Neil deGrasse Tyson on and point out some of the film's missteps. Hey, ho, let's go...
1. Its depiction of Hilly Kristal
We'll start with what they got right: Hilly Kristal was an extremely giving and generous man.To its credit, CBGB the movie shows ample evidence of that--Hilly pulls junkies off the street to give them jobs, pays out of pocket for tours of bands he believes in, bails friends out of jail, and generally has such a lack of ego that he often puts himself dead last. When we first meet grown-up HIlly in the film he's already run two clubs into the ground, and the legal battles and failed rent payments that would eventually force him out of 315 Bowery show he may have not been a stickler for details, but CBGB largely depicts him as a doormat incapable of much, especially a daunting task like, say, running one of the world's most renowned clubs. Which is odd. Because that's what he did. HE RAN CBGB. It would be like Tom Hank's character in Apollo 13 having no idea how to fly a space shuttle, or Denzel Washington portraying Malcolm X as a guy who want to start a fuss.
2. The complete lack of anyone of color
You could file this under "couldn't fit everything" but it strikes us as odd that, with a storied and well-documented history of bands with members of color playing CBGB--Bad Brains, Living Colour, Fishbone, Poly Styrene, James "Blood" Ulmer, The Dead Kennedys--that not one of them gets shown, let alone mentioned (the Voidoids, at least, get a brief snippet of "Blank Generation" played over a scene). In fact, the only people of color depicted in the entire film are a Latin gang that gets into a knife fight with The Dead Boys after the latter pulls some super "punk" moves (see No. 7) in a convenience store.
3. There are stickers on the wall of CBGB before any bands have actually played CBGB
In the movie HIlly decides to open a country, bluegrass and blues bar in the heart of the Bowery, and before anyone even plucks a note--before the place has even become a venue, hosted one event or become any semblance of what it would later be--the walls are covered with band stickers. This is quite a feat, especially given some of those bands, by the clubs founding in '73, have yet to form.
4. Punk did not start in a Connecticut basement
CBGB begins with a (literal) record scratch moment. You thought punk began at 315 Bowery. Nope. It began in a basement in Connecticut with two ne'er-do-wells, John Holmstrom and Legs McNeil. There, according to the film, the two created Punk magazine, and thusly punk. Never mind that you can't have a zine that covers punk if punk doesn't already exist (there could be no Village Voice without a village, after all), or that McNeil's contention that he coined the term has long been disputed. CBGB treats his claim as gospel. It's the film's lede.
5. "The only bar in the city with Fresca on tap"
This might be correct, actually. There's a fair chance CBGB was, as Alan Rickman's Hilly (pictured above, looking helpless alongside his dog) proudly and frequently notes, "the only bar in the city with Fresca on tap." But, honestly, who could possibly care? "Fresca" is brand-dropped throughout the movie, and maybe those close to him knew HIlly's love of the grapefruit flavored, zero-calorie soda, and thought it deserved inclusion, but it's truly weird that the film makes it such a point of emphasis.