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Slade in Flame

Director – Richard Loncraine – 1975 – UK – Cert. – 91m

****

Slade play Flame, a small-time rock band who cut their musical teeth managed by lowlife crooks before going on to a meteoric rise and fall managed by corporate suits– 2K Remaster for the film’s 50th Anniversary Re-release is out in UK cinemas on Friday, May 2nd following BFI Southbank premier on Thursday, May 1st

In the early 1970s, four-piece pop act Slade (singer-guitarist Noddy Holder, bass player Jim Lea, guitarist Dave Hill and drummer Don Powell) were a British pop phenomenon. They clocked up six number one singles, with three going straight to the number one position. To capitalise on that success, the band’s manager Chas Chandler, previously Jim Hendrix’s manager and, before that, the bass player with The Animals, decided Slade should make a movie; the band, however, didn’t want to make light, upbeat, whimsical fantasies like The Beatles vehicles (A Hard Day’s Night, 1964; Help!, 1965, both Richard Lester; Yellow Submarine, George Dunning, 1968); they wanted instead to make something darker, reflecting the experience of trying to make it in a band in England in the late 1960s.

First-time feature director Richard Loncraine proved to be an inspired choice, confirmed both by the gritty, urban nature of his many subsequent films (The Missionary, 1982; Bellman and True, 1987; Richard III, 1995) and for his signature compositional style (letterbox frame, sepia-dominated palette), developed with cinematographer Peter Hannan (The Missionary, not to mention Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life, Terrys Gilliam and Jones, 1983). The film’s writer was Andrew Birkin (writer of The Name of the Rose, Jean-Jacques Annaud, 1986; Perfume: Story of a Murderer, Tom Tykwer, 2006; director of Shredni Vashtar, short, 1981; The Cement Garden, 1993). Cinematographer Hannan later lensed Shredni Vashtar for Birkin.

Reading Birkin’s script as originally written, the band felt it didn’t fully understand the music business, and so had both director and writer accompanying them on tour to see what being in a band was like first-hand as they felt the script would benefit considerably. Loncraine and Birkin also heard lots of anecdotes about things that had happened to both Slade and other bands and acts they knew, many of which found their way into the reworked script.

Slade in Flame opens with a wedding party with men in top hats taking place in a domestic British house, swiftly moving on to a gig where band member Dave Hill provokes a fight by lifting up a woman bystander’s dress from behind. (In the present day. post-Love Exposure (Sion Sono, 2008), politically correct UK, this could well be actionable as upskirting.) The band, who also include Jim Lea and (real-life drummer from The Animals) John Steel, are the backing band for Jack Daniels (Alan Lake). They are managed by lowlife type Mr. Harding (Johnny Shannon from Performance, Donald Cammell, Nicolas Roeg, 1970) who has them on an uninspiring treadmill of weddings and working men’s clubs.

Another night, another gig, another band: the competition, gothic-horror-themed The Undertakers, whose act includes their lead singer, the appropriately-named Stoker (Noddy Holder), rising from a coffin after the first few verses of his opening song: but not on this occasion, since Jim Lea has padlocked the coffin just before the band go onstage. (This is apparently based on something that happened to Screaming Lord Sutch at one of his gigs.)

With Stoker understandably furious, there follows a post-gig car chase with the first band’s car pursued by The Undertakers’ hearse, coffin strapped on top, ending when Jack crashes, flipping the car on its side, and both parties are arrested by the police, only to be released on bail. There have been better car chases, but this one is staged with a certain verve belying its clearly minimal budget, and makes a suitable impression.

Later, Stoker, selling goods off the back of a lorry, is approached to join members of Jack’s band in a new group. Charlie (Don Powell), meanwhile, is a working class lad living with his parents (Jimmy Gardner and Sheila Raynor) and his vulnerable gran, struggling to keep up HP payments on his drum kit, who becomes the group’s fourth member.

Thus, a new, unnamed band (comprising the four members of real life band Slade) is born. They are approached by a talent scout Tony Devlin (Kenneth Colley from Performance, The Life of Brian, Terrys Gilliam and Jones, 1979; The Empire Strikes Back, Irvin Kirschner, 1980; Return of the Jedi, Richard Marquand, 1983; and several Ken Russell films – The Music Lovers, The Devils, both 1971; Mahler, 1974; Lisztomania, 1975; The Rainbow, 1989) and sign a contract with clean-living, well off corporate type Robert Seymour (Tom Conti from The Duellists, Ridley Scott, 1977; Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, Nagisa Oshima, 1983; Oppenheimer, Christopher Nolan, 2023) in his first starring role.

Seymour’s world is light years removed from the band’s working class background. He never directly says whether he likes their music (at one point he bemoans attending a gig because he’s missing a classical music event), regarding the band as a product to be marketed and sold. He names them Flame, gives them fiery coloured clothes and a car with stylised, painted flame imagery to match, and sets about orchestrating a campaign to make them famous.

This includes a visit to pirate radio station Radio City in the Thames Estuary hosted by Ricky Storm (real life DJ Tommy Vance) and his unnamed assistant (Nigel Terry from The Lion in Winter, Antony Harvey, 1968; Excalibur, John Boorman, 1981; Carravaggio, Derek Jarman, 1986; The Tulse Luper Suitcases (two films), Peter Greenaway, 2003) where the band members have to climb perilous-looking metal ladders to access the room from which the station broadcasts. The visit ends with a raid on the station by gunmen (an incident which is never explained), and the band’s escape by helicopter, generating much media publicity.

(An aside: Legendary low budget US producer Roger Corman notoriously used to cut an exploding helicopter into his trailers. Had he been involved with this film, he’s have found a way of somehow having the helicopter blow up.)

As success beckons, Mr. Harding turns up, claiming he still owns the band under a previous contract. He later has two thugs rough up Jim Lea and even attempts to intimidate Seymour by having the legend Rock-a-Bye Baby graffitied in blood-red paint on the bedroom wall of Seymour’s young son.

A performance by the band is taken from what appears to be an actual Slade concert, presumably staged and shot for the film, with the band in costume and genuinely enthusiastic fans waving Flame banners as the band perform Far Far Away, one of two notable songs specially composed for the film (and the soundtrack album). The other arguably even better song How Does It Feel is heard in the title sequence about five minutes into the film to the accompaniment of images of Northern back to back streets and heavy industry factory interiors.

Towards the end, feeling like the film could go on a lot longer and get considerably darker and more unpleasant, the proceedings are very briskly and cleverly wrapped up in a couple of lines of dialogue when one of the band says, “we’ve had enough.” This could have been scripted, but feels like it could equally have been an improvised line, which allowed for a very neat ending to be conjured up in the editing. (This is pure speculation on this critic’s part; either way, the film is very well put together by editor Michael Bradsell, whose extraordinary body of work speaks for itself – highlights include The War Game, Peter Watkins, 1966; The Devils; Max Headroom (TV movie), Rocky Morton & Annabel Jankel, 1985; Henry V, Kenneth Branagh, 1989; Postcards from the 48%, David Nicholas Wilkinson, 2018).

The film didn’t resonate with many of the band’s fans on release who seem to have wanted pop escapism rather than gritty realism, yet it has stood the test of time well and today feels like a convincing, no punches pulled, warts and all snapshot of the late sixties / early seventies British music business. It also boasts an extraordinary cast and crew, a real who’s who of up-and-coming acting and behind the camera talent of its day. The new 2K Remaster looks gorgeous, providing a reason to go out to the cinema to see it.

Slade in Flame is out in a 2K Remaster for its 50th Anniversary Re-release in cinemas in the UK on Friday, May 2nd following BFI Southbank premier on Thursday, May 1st. It is released on BFI Blu-ray/DVD on Monday, May 19th 2025.

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