Performance


1h 46m 1970
Performance

Brief Synopsis

A wounded mobster holes up in a reclusive rock star's decaying mansion.

Film Details

Also Known As
The Performers
MPAA Rating
Genre
Crime
Drama
Music
Release Date
Jan 1970
Premiere Information
New York opening: 3 Aug 1970
Production Company
Goodtimes Enterprises
Distribution Company
Warner Bros. Pictures
Country
United Kingdom
Location
England, United Kingdom

Technical Specs

Duration
1h 46m
Sound
Mono
Color
Black and White, Color (Technicolor)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio
1.85 : 1

Synopsis

Chas Devlin, sadistic henchman of decadent business magnate Harry Flowers, flees the syndicate after brutally murdering his boss's client. Disguised as a juggler, he seeks shelter at the London townhouse of reclusive rock star Turner. There he is plied with hallucinogens by the androgynous entertainer and his sapphic concubines, Pherber and Lucy. When Devlin, his face heavily made-up, is properly receptive, Turner enacts for him his final performance. In search of Devlin, Flowers' minions penetrate Turner's sanctuary. As they escort the unfortunate Devlin from the townhouse, the infuriated thug shoots Turner to death.

Photo Collections

Performance - Movie Posters
Here are a few different size Movie Posters for Performance (1970), co-directed by Nicholas Roeg and starring Mick Jagger.

Film Details

Also Known As
The Performers
MPAA Rating
Genre
Crime
Drama
Music
Release Date
Jan 1970
Premiere Information
New York opening: 3 Aug 1970
Production Company
Goodtimes Enterprises
Distribution Company
Warner Bros. Pictures
Country
United Kingdom
Location
England, United Kingdom

Technical Specs

Duration
1h 46m
Sound
Mono
Color
Black and White, Color (Technicolor)
Theatrical Aspect Ratio
1.85 : 1

Articles

The Gist (Performance) - THE GIST


The British cinema that redefined itself through the 1960s is bracketed for posterity between two films that were considered in their day an affront to good taste. On the far end, Michael Powell's Peeping Tom (1960) was regarded by critics in the United Kingdom as emblematic of the decline of one half of the respectable "Archers," the two-man production outfit responsible for such national treasures as 'I Know Where I'm Going!' (1945), Black Narcissus (1947) and The Red Shoes (1948). The backlash against Peeping Tom derailed Powell's film career and he retreated for several years into television. Ten years later, Performance (1970), a collaborative effort between former painter Donald Cammell and cinematographer Nicolas Roeg (who had shot Fahrenheit 451 [1966] for François Truffaut and Petulia [1968] for Richard Lester) ruffled similar feathers and it isn't difficult to appreciate why the film opened old wounds. Both Peeping Tom and Performance deal in part with the act of looking, with the consumption inherent in the process of observing, and both works left filmgoers and critics deeply disturbed. Writing in The Spectator in 1960, Isabel Quigly called Peeping Tom the "sickest and filthiest film I remember seeing" while Performance (financed by Warner Brothers and held in reserve in the studio's vaults for a year) was skewered by American critic Richard Schickel as "the most disgusting, the most completely worthless film I have ever seen." A generation later, both Peeping Tom and Performance are considered contemporary classics.

The origins of Performance go back to Donald Cammell's immersion in the subculture of London's bohemian Chelsea quarter, a nexus from 1959 onwards for dandyism and decadence, for ethnic influences and unorthodox philosophies. Fascinated by the inclusion rituals of both drug-takers seeking spiritual transcendence and career criminals (such as the infamous Kray Twins) for whom secrecy and alternate identities were standard operating procedure, Cammell crafted a tale of the collision of artistic and criminal worlds which he intended to call The Liars. The notion appealed to Hollywood agent Sandy Lieberson, who asked Cammell to tailor the piece for Marlon Brando and Mick Jagger, clients of Creative Management Associates. Cammell banged out the screenplay in Saint-Tropez with the assistance of his then-girlfriend, model Deborah Dixon, and actress/model Anita Pallenberg, a former lover. (Actually doing his typing on the beach, Cammell nearly lost his manuscript to an errant gust of wind which lifted the pages out to sea.) The title was changed to The Performers and ultimately the more existential Performance as Cammell's script incorporated Pallenberg's studies in mysticism and "magick" (Cammell himself had a personal connection to British occultist Aleister Crowley) and the influence of avant garde filmmaker Kenneth Anger, "Beat" writer William S. Burroughs and Argentine novelist Jorge Luis Borges. (Cammell also drew inspiration from John Boorman's Point Blank and Vladimir Nabokov's novel Despair.) Brando dropped out of the project early on (the actor and Cammell would be involved in a number of stillborn collaborations through the next decade) and the role of the gangster Chas was given to Cammell's Chelsea neighbor James Fox, who had appeared in the Cammell-scripted Duffy (1968). Jagger's then-girlfriend Marianne Faithfull alleged in her 1994 autobiography that the controversial ménage a trois depicted in Performance's trippy second act was based on a real life four-some involving herself, Jagger, Fox and the actor's androgynous companion Andee Cohen.

From preproduction to the final edit, Performance was plagued by - or benefited from – a series of calamities that boosted the prevailing aura of madness. The production history is larded with myths about what really went on during principal photography (among the more long-lived rumors are that Fox participated in actual criminal burglaries and that he was dosed with psilocybin during filming) but the verifiable anecdotes make for equally good reading. Hollywood actresses Tuesday Weld and Mia Farrow had both agreed to appear in Performance as the in-house concubines of Jagger's reclusive Turner but both bowed out due to injuries; Anita Pallenberg assumed Weld's role and newcomer Michele Breton was given the part abdicated by Farrow.

The principal photography on Performance commenced on Monday, July 29, 1968, with filming in the Wandsworth, Mayfair and Kensington neighborhoods of London. For the second act, set within Turner's tumbledown pied-à-terre, a Notting Hill walk-up east of the Portobello Road was used for exteriors while interiors were lensed inside a townhouse in the more upmarket Knightsbridge. To add an authentic aura of criminality, Cammell and Roeg had entertained the notion of retaining Reginald and Ronald Kray as technical advisors. When "The Twins" were arrested in May 1968 for the murders of George Cornell and Jack "The Hat" McVittie, the filmmakers relied instead on the services of scarfaced mobster David Litvinoff, who is credited as a dialogue coach. The production received its first negative publicity when ten rolls of film that had captured the ménage a trois scene were seized as pornographic material and ordered destroyed. Surviving fragments turned up in Europe in later years as porn reels.

Performance was for all intents and purposes in the can by October 1968. The following February, the film was screened in Los Angeles for Warner Brothers executives, who deemed the material unreleasable. With a regime change at the studio later that year came the possibility that Performance might be salvaged given an extensive re-edit (which would, among other things, bring star Mick Jagger into the action earlier). With Nicolas Roeg in Australia preparing Walkabout (1971), Cammell was left with the task of cutting. Working with veteran editor Frank Mazzola (who had, earlier in his career, played one of the teenage gang members in Nicholas Ray's Rebel Without a Cause, 1955), Cammell tendered a succession of possible cuts before the final version was approved by the Warners front office for release in August 1970. Since the end of principal photography almost two years earlier, Anita Pallenberg and Michele Breton had both become severely addicted to drugs (the latter ultimately confined to a sanitarium). So unnerved by his participation in the film, James Fox retired from acting for eight years and embraced Christianity. In July, Mick Jagger's Rolling Stones band mate Brian Jones (who had inspired the character of Turner) was found dead of mysterious circumstances and that December the Stones' participation at the Altamont Speedway Free Festival was marred by violence and murder (chronicled in the 1970 documentary Gimme Shelter). While Jagger, Fox and Nicolas Roeg continue to enjoy long and fruitful careers, Donald Cammell directed only three more features before taking his own life in April 1996.

Producer: Sanford Lieberson
Directors: Donald Cammell, Nicolas Roeg
Screenplay: Donald Cammell; Anita Pallenberg (uncredited)
Cinematography: Nicolas Roeg
Art Direction: John Clark
Music: Jack Nitzsche
Film Editing: Antony Gibbs, Brian Smedley-Aston; Frank Mazzola (uncredited)
Cast: James Fox (Chas), Mick Jagger (Turner), Anita Pallenberg (Pherber), Michele Breton (Lucy), Ann Sidney (Dana), John Bindon (Moody), Stanley Meadows (Rosebloom), Allan Cuthbertson (The Lawyer), Antony Morton (Dennis), Johnny Shannon (Harry Flowers), Anthony Valentine (Joey Maddocks), Ken Colley (Tony Farrell), John Sterland (The Chauffeur), Laraine Wickens (Lorraine)
C-105m.

by Richard Harland Smith

Sources:
Donald Cammell by Rebecca Umland and Sam Umland

Donald Cammell interview by Jon Savage, British Crime Cinema, Steve Chibnall and Robert Murphy, Ed.

"Story Of The Scene: Performance Nicolas Roeg & Donald Cammell (1970)," by Roger Clarke, The Independent, November 2006

Faithfull: An Autobiography by Marianne Faithfull

"The Acid House: The studio thought they were getting a crime caper starring Mick Jagger. What they got was Performance -- an orgy of violence, sex and psychotropic drugs. And the best British film ever made..." by Rebekah Wood, Neon, March 1998

Book of Lies: The Disinformation Guide to Magick and the Occult by Richard Metzger

"Cast into Darkness," by Michael Holden, The Guardian, May 2004

"Possession: 25 years on, Peter Woolen examines dandyism, decadence and death in Performance," Sight & Sound, Volume 5, Issue 9, September 1995

"Tuning into Wonders: Christopher Gibbs gave Performance its look. He talks to Jon Savage about the High 60s," Sight & Sound, Volume 5, Issue 9, September 1995

"Donald Cammell," by Maximilian Le Cain, Senses of Cinema, November 2002
The Gist (Performance) - The Gist

The Gist (Performance) - THE GIST

The British cinema that redefined itself through the 1960s is bracketed for posterity between two films that were considered in their day an affront to good taste. On the far end, Michael Powell's Peeping Tom (1960) was regarded by critics in the United Kingdom as emblematic of the decline of one half of the respectable "Archers," the two-man production outfit responsible for such national treasures as 'I Know Where I'm Going!' (1945), Black Narcissus (1947) and The Red Shoes (1948). The backlash against Peeping Tom derailed Powell's film career and he retreated for several years into television. Ten years later, Performance (1970), a collaborative effort between former painter Donald Cammell and cinematographer Nicolas Roeg (who had shot Fahrenheit 451 [1966] for François Truffaut and Petulia [1968] for Richard Lester) ruffled similar feathers and it isn't difficult to appreciate why the film opened old wounds. Both Peeping Tom and Performance deal in part with the act of looking, with the consumption inherent in the process of observing, and both works left filmgoers and critics deeply disturbed. Writing in The Spectator in 1960, Isabel Quigly called Peeping Tom the "sickest and filthiest film I remember seeing" while Performance (financed by Warner Brothers and held in reserve in the studio's vaults for a year) was skewered by American critic Richard Schickel as "the most disgusting, the most completely worthless film I have ever seen." A generation later, both Peeping Tom and Performance are considered contemporary classics. The origins of Performance go back to Donald Cammell's immersion in the subculture of London's bohemian Chelsea quarter, a nexus from 1959 onwards for dandyism and decadence, for ethnic influences and unorthodox philosophies. Fascinated by the inclusion rituals of both drug-takers seeking spiritual transcendence and career criminals (such as the infamous Kray Twins) for whom secrecy and alternate identities were standard operating procedure, Cammell crafted a tale of the collision of artistic and criminal worlds which he intended to call The Liars. The notion appealed to Hollywood agent Sandy Lieberson, who asked Cammell to tailor the piece for Marlon Brando and Mick Jagger, clients of Creative Management Associates. Cammell banged out the screenplay in Saint-Tropez with the assistance of his then-girlfriend, model Deborah Dixon, and actress/model Anita Pallenberg, a former lover. (Actually doing his typing on the beach, Cammell nearly lost his manuscript to an errant gust of wind which lifted the pages out to sea.) The title was changed to The Performers and ultimately the more existential Performance as Cammell's script incorporated Pallenberg's studies in mysticism and "magick" (Cammell himself had a personal connection to British occultist Aleister Crowley) and the influence of avant garde filmmaker Kenneth Anger, "Beat" writer William S. Burroughs and Argentine novelist Jorge Luis Borges. (Cammell also drew inspiration from John Boorman's Point Blank and Vladimir Nabokov's novel Despair.) Brando dropped out of the project early on (the actor and Cammell would be involved in a number of stillborn collaborations through the next decade) and the role of the gangster Chas was given to Cammell's Chelsea neighbor James Fox, who had appeared in the Cammell-scripted Duffy (1968). Jagger's then-girlfriend Marianne Faithfull alleged in her 1994 autobiography that the controversial ménage a trois depicted in Performance's trippy second act was based on a real life four-some involving herself, Jagger, Fox and the actor's androgynous companion Andee Cohen. From preproduction to the final edit, Performance was plagued by - or benefited from – a series of calamities that boosted the prevailing aura of madness. The production history is larded with myths about what really went on during principal photography (among the more long-lived rumors are that Fox participated in actual criminal burglaries and that he was dosed with psilocybin during filming) but the verifiable anecdotes make for equally good reading. Hollywood actresses Tuesday Weld and Mia Farrow had both agreed to appear in Performance as the in-house concubines of Jagger's reclusive Turner but both bowed out due to injuries; Anita Pallenberg assumed Weld's role and newcomer Michele Breton was given the part abdicated by Farrow. The principal photography on Performance commenced on Monday, July 29, 1968, with filming in the Wandsworth, Mayfair and Kensington neighborhoods of London. For the second act, set within Turner's tumbledown pied-à-terre, a Notting Hill walk-up east of the Portobello Road was used for exteriors while interiors were lensed inside a townhouse in the more upmarket Knightsbridge. To add an authentic aura of criminality, Cammell and Roeg had entertained the notion of retaining Reginald and Ronald Kray as technical advisors. When "The Twins" were arrested in May 1968 for the murders of George Cornell and Jack "The Hat" McVittie, the filmmakers relied instead on the services of scarfaced mobster David Litvinoff, who is credited as a dialogue coach. The production received its first negative publicity when ten rolls of film that had captured the ménage a trois scene were seized as pornographic material and ordered destroyed. Surviving fragments turned up in Europe in later years as porn reels. Performance was for all intents and purposes in the can by October 1968. The following February, the film was screened in Los Angeles for Warner Brothers executives, who deemed the material unreleasable. With a regime change at the studio later that year came the possibility that Performance might be salvaged given an extensive re-edit (which would, among other things, bring star Mick Jagger into the action earlier). With Nicolas Roeg in Australia preparing Walkabout (1971), Cammell was left with the task of cutting. Working with veteran editor Frank Mazzola (who had, earlier in his career, played one of the teenage gang members in Nicholas Ray's Rebel Without a Cause, 1955), Cammell tendered a succession of possible cuts before the final version was approved by the Warners front office for release in August 1970. Since the end of principal photography almost two years earlier, Anita Pallenberg and Michele Breton had both become severely addicted to drugs (the latter ultimately confined to a sanitarium). So unnerved by his participation in the film, James Fox retired from acting for eight years and embraced Christianity. In July, Mick Jagger's Rolling Stones band mate Brian Jones (who had inspired the character of Turner) was found dead of mysterious circumstances and that December the Stones' participation at the Altamont Speedway Free Festival was marred by violence and murder (chronicled in the 1970 documentary Gimme Shelter). While Jagger, Fox and Nicolas Roeg continue to enjoy long and fruitful careers, Donald Cammell directed only three more features before taking his own life in April 1996. Producer: Sanford Lieberson Directors: Donald Cammell, Nicolas Roeg Screenplay: Donald Cammell; Anita Pallenberg (uncredited) Cinematography: Nicolas Roeg Art Direction: John Clark Music: Jack Nitzsche Film Editing: Antony Gibbs, Brian Smedley-Aston; Frank Mazzola (uncredited) Cast: James Fox (Chas), Mick Jagger (Turner), Anita Pallenberg (Pherber), Michele Breton (Lucy), Ann Sidney (Dana), John Bindon (Moody), Stanley Meadows (Rosebloom), Allan Cuthbertson (The Lawyer), Antony Morton (Dennis), Johnny Shannon (Harry Flowers), Anthony Valentine (Joey Maddocks), Ken Colley (Tony Farrell), John Sterland (The Chauffeur), Laraine Wickens (Lorraine) C-105m. by Richard Harland Smith Sources: Donald Cammell by Rebecca Umland and Sam Umland Donald Cammell interview by Jon Savage, British Crime Cinema, Steve Chibnall and Robert Murphy, Ed. "Story Of The Scene: Performance Nicolas Roeg & Donald Cammell (1970)," by Roger Clarke, The Independent, November 2006 Faithfull: An Autobiography by Marianne Faithfull "The Acid House: The studio thought they were getting a crime caper starring Mick Jagger. What they got was Performance -- an orgy of violence, sex and psychotropic drugs. And the best British film ever made..." by Rebekah Wood, Neon, March 1998 Book of Lies: The Disinformation Guide to Magick and the Occult by Richard Metzger "Cast into Darkness," by Michael Holden, The Guardian, May 2004 "Possession: 25 years on, Peter Woolen examines dandyism, decadence and death in Performance," Sight & Sound, Volume 5, Issue 9, September 1995 "Tuning into Wonders: Christopher Gibbs gave Performance its look. He talks to Jon Savage about the High 60s," Sight & Sound, Volume 5, Issue 9, September 1995 "Donald Cammell," by Maximilian Le Cain, Senses of Cinema, November 2002

Performance


If you were around in the '60s-early '70s, you knew that it was a time when movies mattered - more than that, certain movies mattered like crazy, if you were young, and whether you lived in New York or London or Prague. That is to say, certain movies became anthemic, generational totems: Easy Rider (1969) in the US, I Am Twenty (1965) in Russia, Velvet Hustler (1967) in Japan, any of a dozen '60s Godard movies in France. England's "swinging" urban culture of the time was particularly movie crazy and Brit kids embraced scads of homegrown films as being life-or-death expressions of the "Way We Are Now." But Nicolas Roeg and Donald Cammell's Performance (1970) might be the quintessential movie of the English '60s moment.

Happily, the legend of such films comes along with it, ready for us to savor as a part of its context; maybe it's not as good as being a sex-crazed, freedom-drunk rock-n-roll co-ed thumbing our nose at the older generation during the Harold Wilson era, and falling into the post-Mod hijinks of Performance for the first time, but the time travel the film provides is compensation enough. It starts outrageously enough, with a nudity-packed intro to our protagonist Chas (James Fox), a violent, bling-devoted London gangster in the middle of a hedonistic bedroom encounter; the sex is rough, the jewelry is gold, the soundtrack is unstable (toggling from cool music to ominous drone effects).

Afterwards, his back is covered in scratches, his exercise regimen is uninterrupted and we realize the girl is nothing more than a casual hook-up. From there, the film sketches Chas' professional situation in classic New Wave-esque jump cuts and surreal leaps, making it clear to us that Chas' outfit is busy putting the squeeze on a corrupt banker who owes them while the old guy is on trial for fraud (in which banking malfeasance is happily equated to mobster tactics, and the jury is shown watching a S/M stag loop). Restless but dedicated to his work, Chas goes all in torturing the man's staff and raining acid on the defense lawyer's Rolls Royce, before going too far and paying a threatening visit to an old friend, whose betting shop Chas' boss wants to take over. Things get out of hand and before Chas knows it, amidst a sound beating by a trio of angry goons, he retaliates and leaves a body behind.

Escaping both the law and his own ass-covering boss's henchmen, Chas colors his hair and searches for a place to lay low--and finds it, by accident-- in the basement apartment of a reclusive rock star, Turner (Mick Jagger). Then Roeg and Cammell's movie slows down and starts turning the worm: Turner and his two free-loving consorts (sultry Anita Pallenberg and boyish Michele Breton) are hedonists par excellence, living a shuttered, pillow-bedecked, incense-odored head-trip existence of unremitting sex and drugs. Worlds collide, as they say, as Chas is slowly transformed into a meta-Turner, and almost vice-versa, while the real world and its vicious capitalist priorities vanishes, replaced by a sense of fluid identities and anything-goes hippiedom.

For that, it's still a film of glum, brooding, decidedly unfrivolous action; Turner's reclusiveness is never explained, and Jagger's simulacra of himself never has any fun. "Nothing is true, everything is permitted," as someone quotes William S. Burroughs (by way of Vladimir Bartol), and that stakeless anomie permeates the movie. (Borges is also referenced amply.) Cast a cold eye on Performance and it becomes a very cynical vision of the counter-culture ethos, with the four characters trapped as though in a controlled-substance-saturated Beckett or Sartre play, or in a rather luxurious but pointless circle of Purgatory.

Roeg and Cammell's movie - the first for each - can be both adored for its time-capsule sensibilities and mocked for its pretensions. For one thing, the movie suspends all judgment on virtually all behavior - even the moment when Pallenberg injects heroin into her bare butt cheek, as Jagger in the background mutters something about "shouldn't do that stuff so much," is seen as consequence-free. (Heroin is never mentioned again, and Pallenberg remains the most sensible adult in the house. Meanwhile, Pallenberg has admitted since that the hit was real.) It's strange, watching a film in which conventional moral attitudes are suspended so entirely, and it's that strangeness, which may not have seemed so strange in London in 1970 if you were high and/or in revolt against your parents, that quite obviously made the film a hit.

Mushrooms, guns, candles, bathtub threesomes, Eastern music, cross-gender dress-up--the film itself becomes a druggy dorm party bordering on the dangerous. (In his transformation, Fox ends up looking like Captain Jack Sparrow in a Jim Morrison wig.) Roeg started as a celebrated cinematographer, and Cammell as a painter-Lothario turned screenwriter and pal of Jagger and avant-gardist Kenneth Anger. They shared a taste for fracturing social norms and the vogue of movies seemingly aware of their own unstable movieness. Certainly, the films they made separately after Performance - Roeg's career thrived in a wacky, freeform way into the new century, while Cammell's is limited to a handful of bizarre features and unfinished projects - tended toward disjunctions, time leaps, and identity morphing, long after this kind of meta-movie toolbox had been the fashion.

The movie almost missed its moment. It had been shot in 1968, but the casual nudity and sex fomented dissent from the film lab to the editing suite to the offices of Warner Bros., and it took three edits to get it into a form that everyone decided was releasable. The mind boggles as to what was left on the cutting room floor, but as it is, Roeg and Cammell's film stands as pop culture history. You don't stand a chance at understanding that moment in history, particularly British history, without seeing it.

By Michael Atkinson

Performance

If you were around in the '60s-early '70s, you knew that it was a time when movies mattered - more than that, certain movies mattered like crazy, if you were young, and whether you lived in New York or London or Prague. That is to say, certain movies became anthemic, generational totems: Easy Rider (1969) in the US, I Am Twenty (1965) in Russia, Velvet Hustler (1967) in Japan, any of a dozen '60s Godard movies in France. England's "swinging" urban culture of the time was particularly movie crazy and Brit kids embraced scads of homegrown films as being life-or-death expressions of the "Way We Are Now." But Nicolas Roeg and Donald Cammell's Performance (1970) might be the quintessential movie of the English '60s moment. Happily, the legend of such films comes along with it, ready for us to savor as a part of its context; maybe it's not as good as being a sex-crazed, freedom-drunk rock-n-roll co-ed thumbing our nose at the older generation during the Harold Wilson era, and falling into the post-Mod hijinks of Performance for the first time, but the time travel the film provides is compensation enough. It starts outrageously enough, with a nudity-packed intro to our protagonist Chas (James Fox), a violent, bling-devoted London gangster in the middle of a hedonistic bedroom encounter; the sex is rough, the jewelry is gold, the soundtrack is unstable (toggling from cool music to ominous drone effects). Afterwards, his back is covered in scratches, his exercise regimen is uninterrupted and we realize the girl is nothing more than a casual hook-up. From there, the film sketches Chas' professional situation in classic New Wave-esque jump cuts and surreal leaps, making it clear to us that Chas' outfit is busy putting the squeeze on a corrupt banker who owes them while the old guy is on trial for fraud (in which banking malfeasance is happily equated to mobster tactics, and the jury is shown watching a S/M stag loop). Restless but dedicated to his work, Chas goes all in torturing the man's staff and raining acid on the defense lawyer's Rolls Royce, before going too far and paying a threatening visit to an old friend, whose betting shop Chas' boss wants to take over. Things get out of hand and before Chas knows it, amidst a sound beating by a trio of angry goons, he retaliates and leaves a body behind. Escaping both the law and his own ass-covering boss's henchmen, Chas colors his hair and searches for a place to lay low--and finds it, by accident-- in the basement apartment of a reclusive rock star, Turner (Mick Jagger). Then Roeg and Cammell's movie slows down and starts turning the worm: Turner and his two free-loving consorts (sultry Anita Pallenberg and boyish Michele Breton) are hedonists par excellence, living a shuttered, pillow-bedecked, incense-odored head-trip existence of unremitting sex and drugs. Worlds collide, as they say, as Chas is slowly transformed into a meta-Turner, and almost vice-versa, while the real world and its vicious capitalist priorities vanishes, replaced by a sense of fluid identities and anything-goes hippiedom. For that, it's still a film of glum, brooding, decidedly unfrivolous action; Turner's reclusiveness is never explained, and Jagger's simulacra of himself never has any fun. "Nothing is true, everything is permitted," as someone quotes William S. Burroughs (by way of Vladimir Bartol), and that stakeless anomie permeates the movie. (Borges is also referenced amply.) Cast a cold eye on Performance and it becomes a very cynical vision of the counter-culture ethos, with the four characters trapped as though in a controlled-substance-saturated Beckett or Sartre play, or in a rather luxurious but pointless circle of Purgatory. Roeg and Cammell's movie - the first for each - can be both adored for its time-capsule sensibilities and mocked for its pretensions. For one thing, the movie suspends all judgment on virtually all behavior - even the moment when Pallenberg injects heroin into her bare butt cheek, as Jagger in the background mutters something about "shouldn't do that stuff so much," is seen as consequence-free. (Heroin is never mentioned again, and Pallenberg remains the most sensible adult in the house. Meanwhile, Pallenberg has admitted since that the hit was real.) It's strange, watching a film in which conventional moral attitudes are suspended so entirely, and it's that strangeness, which may not have seemed so strange in London in 1970 if you were high and/or in revolt against your parents, that quite obviously made the film a hit. Mushrooms, guns, candles, bathtub threesomes, Eastern music, cross-gender dress-up--the film itself becomes a druggy dorm party bordering on the dangerous. (In his transformation, Fox ends up looking like Captain Jack Sparrow in a Jim Morrison wig.) Roeg started as a celebrated cinematographer, and Cammell as a painter-Lothario turned screenwriter and pal of Jagger and avant-gardist Kenneth Anger. They shared a taste for fracturing social norms and the vogue of movies seemingly aware of their own unstable movieness. Certainly, the films they made separately after Performance - Roeg's career thrived in a wacky, freeform way into the new century, while Cammell's is limited to a handful of bizarre features and unfinished projects - tended toward disjunctions, time leaps, and identity morphing, long after this kind of meta-movie toolbox had been the fashion. The movie almost missed its moment. It had been shot in 1968, but the casual nudity and sex fomented dissent from the film lab to the editing suite to the offices of Warner Bros., and it took three edits to get it into a form that everyone decided was releasable. The mind boggles as to what was left on the cutting room floor, but as it is, Roeg and Cammell's film stands as pop culture history. You don't stand a chance at understanding that moment in history, particularly British history, without seeing it. By Michael Atkinson

Performance on Blu-ray


To many fans, Performance (1970) is legendary as the dramatic feature film debut of Mick Jagger. Though released in 1970, the film--about a short-fused punk of a London gangster named Chas (James Fox) who hides out from the cops and the crooks alike in the basement flat of a reclusive rock stars' (Jagger) dilapidated mansion--was shot in 1968, at the height of Jagger's bad-boy infamy. The Rolling Stones had released "Between the Buttons," "Their Satanic Majesty's Request," and "Beggar's Banquet," and Jagger and Keith Richards had been arrested and convicted on drug charges in 1967. By the time the film was released he was the poster man-boy of rock decadence and the devil's music, dangerous and seductive, and he became a sexual icon in a way the Beatles could never be. But Jagger has less screen time and a far less central role in this drama than you might guess, given the way his presence transforms the film.

Performance opens as a crime thriller steeped in London gangster machismo. Chas, an angry, vicious young thug always on the edge of spinning out of control, is the young enforcer for mobster Harry Flowers (Johnny Shannon), an old school gang leader making his play to consolidate his control over his section of London. The problem is that Chas likes his work far too much and has a tendency to overreach his orders, especially when they call for restraint. Chas is an artist of destruction. Which of course comes back to bite him. His zeal threatens Harry's new alliance and puts him in the crosshairs of the underworld and the cops alike.

Performance is the directorial debut of both cinematographer Nicolas Roeg and artist / writer Donald Cammell, who teamed up to co-direct. It's a heady brew from the opening scene, which stitches two seemingly disconnected storylines with aggressive editing that seems to rewrite the script as it weaves scenes together. The jagged, jackhammer dynamism cuts dialogue in to fragments in places, beginning a sentence in the back of a car where Chas leans on a witness and warping the meaning when it's picked up by a barrister in court defending Harry Flowers against criminal charges. Sixties cinema was no stranger to experimental editing and conceptual creativity but this is something else, dancing between narrative storytelling and thematic associations until the threads wind together at the end of the scene, and the editing continues to challenge conventions throughout the film. Cammell spent two years editing Performance, or rather reediting the film, after an unsatisfactory preview. He created the dense editing pattern, with its intricate layering of images and storylines and characters contrasting and blurring identities, while Roeg was off in Australia shooting his first solo project as a director, Walkabout, but Roeg was clearly in synch with Cammell, as Roeg's subsequent films continued to expand on those editing ideas. It gives the film a challenging, aggressive quality, slamming the two cultures-- London gangster machismo and the heady, decadent world of sex, drugs and rock and roll--together with a jagged crash. This is underworld culture and counterculture with a savage edge and these two artists spin a dense web of images and ideas and cultures in upheaval.

James Fox had made his reputation playing cultured men and portraits of dignity and breeding. Chas was something new to him and Fox is almost unrecognizable under the barking cockney accent and cocky, swaggering physicality of Chas, constantly wound up and ready to explode. It's all he can do to remain still in the company of the older, more disciplined soldiers of the Flowers mob. When he finally unleashes his pent-up fury on a trio of rivals who ambush him, he tips over into savage survival mode, going lone wolf with a ferocious focus. Every action seems to be acted on impulse, a sudden brainstorm that he pounces on with the full force of his feral drive, right down to the overheard tip on the basement room. He doesn't take no for an answer and, while his cover story is as patently false as his impromptu dye job (Chas mixes lotion and red paint and runs it through his hair, giving him a hairdo that looks like it was cast in plastic), his commitment to the façade is so total that Turner can't turn him away.

The role of Turner, the androgynous, sexually unrestrained celebrity hermit, noodling with his experimental musical projects and lounging in bed with multiple partners, was perfect for Jagger. He almost didn't need to act, and in many ways he didn't. Jagger is least forceful when's he delivering dialogue (his tentativeness is surprising given his confidence as a singer), but his presence fills the film with the atmospheric musk of animal sensuality. Lounging under the covers or shuffling through the mansion in a loosely-tied robe, he's a man at home with his body, and the bodies of his live-in lovers. "The only performance that makes it, that makes it all the way, is the one that achieves madness," says Turner as he and his lover (Anita Pallenberg) draw Chas into their little world of sex and drugs. It's not a promise of things to come, it's a description of what's already going on, and it comes to a head in the "Memo From Turner" number, the demonic Jagger solo tune with a sultry slide guitar by Ry Cooder. It's still the most wicked and dangerous Jagger that has ever been on screen. Speaking lines as Turner, the hermit of a rock star haunting a wreck of a mansion, Jagger is oddly passive, but once starts biting off lyrics and chewing them over as a song, he commands the scene and the screen.

It's amazing what Cammell got past Warner; this is perhaps the first major studio film to embrace androgyny and bi-sexuality in its main characters without judgment. And it's not just in the hideaway maze of Turner's oasis, where identities blur in the games of musical beds (on Blu-ray it's much easier to see that it's Mick and James in a post-coital cuddle before the identity shifts once again). Pay attention you'll see that mob boss Harry Flowers relaxes to gay porn while in bed. It gives this portrait of London thug machismo a homoerotic quality that is more than just a suggestion. Sex and violence aren't simply connected, they are intertwined here along with the fluid idea of identity and sexuality.

The Blu-ray debut looks brings out details not apparent on the DVD. The 2007 DVD release clipped a line that has been restored for this edition - "Here's to old England!" - and presents a different vocal performance for actor Johnny Shannon, who plays mob boss Harry Flowers. Some of the performances were rerecorded for the American release to soften the cockney accents and it's not clear which version this is. The film was released in mono and so is disc; the dense soundtrack sometimes gets muddied in the mix, but "Memo From Turner" sounds terrific. It jumps out of the mix.

Also includes the 24-minute featurette "Performance: Influence and Controversy," a very good piece on the production, release, and culture of the film, originally produced in 2007 for the DVD release. It doesn't feature any of the primary participants (no Jagger, Fox, or Roeg, and Donald Cammell died in 1996) but it does include interview with producers David Cammell and Sanford Lieberson, editor Frank Mazzolla, and co-star Anita Pallenberg. The archival "Memo From Turner" is a five-minute promotional piece from the film's original release that focuses on Jagger's contributions to the film and features almost the entire song. The supplements are not presented in HD.

by Sean Axmaker

Performance on Blu-ray

To many fans, Performance (1970) is legendary as the dramatic feature film debut of Mick Jagger. Though released in 1970, the film--about a short-fused punk of a London gangster named Chas (James Fox) who hides out from the cops and the crooks alike in the basement flat of a reclusive rock stars' (Jagger) dilapidated mansion--was shot in 1968, at the height of Jagger's bad-boy infamy. The Rolling Stones had released "Between the Buttons," "Their Satanic Majesty's Request," and "Beggar's Banquet," and Jagger and Keith Richards had been arrested and convicted on drug charges in 1967. By the time the film was released he was the poster man-boy of rock decadence and the devil's music, dangerous and seductive, and he became a sexual icon in a way the Beatles could never be. But Jagger has less screen time and a far less central role in this drama than you might guess, given the way his presence transforms the film. Performance opens as a crime thriller steeped in London gangster machismo. Chas, an angry, vicious young thug always on the edge of spinning out of control, is the young enforcer for mobster Harry Flowers (Johnny Shannon), an old school gang leader making his play to consolidate his control over his section of London. The problem is that Chas likes his work far too much and has a tendency to overreach his orders, especially when they call for restraint. Chas is an artist of destruction. Which of course comes back to bite him. His zeal threatens Harry's new alliance and puts him in the crosshairs of the underworld and the cops alike. Performance is the directorial debut of both cinematographer Nicolas Roeg and artist / writer Donald Cammell, who teamed up to co-direct. It's a heady brew from the opening scene, which stitches two seemingly disconnected storylines with aggressive editing that seems to rewrite the script as it weaves scenes together. The jagged, jackhammer dynamism cuts dialogue in to fragments in places, beginning a sentence in the back of a car where Chas leans on a witness and warping the meaning when it's picked up by a barrister in court defending Harry Flowers against criminal charges. Sixties cinema was no stranger to experimental editing and conceptual creativity but this is something else, dancing between narrative storytelling and thematic associations until the threads wind together at the end of the scene, and the editing continues to challenge conventions throughout the film. Cammell spent two years editing Performance, or rather reediting the film, after an unsatisfactory preview. He created the dense editing pattern, with its intricate layering of images and storylines and characters contrasting and blurring identities, while Roeg was off in Australia shooting his first solo project as a director, Walkabout, but Roeg was clearly in synch with Cammell, as Roeg's subsequent films continued to expand on those editing ideas. It gives the film a challenging, aggressive quality, slamming the two cultures-- London gangster machismo and the heady, decadent world of sex, drugs and rock and roll--together with a jagged crash. This is underworld culture and counterculture with a savage edge and these two artists spin a dense web of images and ideas and cultures in upheaval. James Fox had made his reputation playing cultured men and portraits of dignity and breeding. Chas was something new to him and Fox is almost unrecognizable under the barking cockney accent and cocky, swaggering physicality of Chas, constantly wound up and ready to explode. It's all he can do to remain still in the company of the older, more disciplined soldiers of the Flowers mob. When he finally unleashes his pent-up fury on a trio of rivals who ambush him, he tips over into savage survival mode, going lone wolf with a ferocious focus. Every action seems to be acted on impulse, a sudden brainstorm that he pounces on with the full force of his feral drive, right down to the overheard tip on the basement room. He doesn't take no for an answer and, while his cover story is as patently false as his impromptu dye job (Chas mixes lotion and red paint and runs it through his hair, giving him a hairdo that looks like it was cast in plastic), his commitment to the façade is so total that Turner can't turn him away. The role of Turner, the androgynous, sexually unrestrained celebrity hermit, noodling with his experimental musical projects and lounging in bed with multiple partners, was perfect for Jagger. He almost didn't need to act, and in many ways he didn't. Jagger is least forceful when's he delivering dialogue (his tentativeness is surprising given his confidence as a singer), but his presence fills the film with the atmospheric musk of animal sensuality. Lounging under the covers or shuffling through the mansion in a loosely-tied robe, he's a man at home with his body, and the bodies of his live-in lovers. "The only performance that makes it, that makes it all the way, is the one that achieves madness," says Turner as he and his lover (Anita Pallenberg) draw Chas into their little world of sex and drugs. It's not a promise of things to come, it's a description of what's already going on, and it comes to a head in the "Memo From Turner" number, the demonic Jagger solo tune with a sultry slide guitar by Ry Cooder. It's still the most wicked and dangerous Jagger that has ever been on screen. Speaking lines as Turner, the hermit of a rock star haunting a wreck of a mansion, Jagger is oddly passive, but once starts biting off lyrics and chewing them over as a song, he commands the scene and the screen. It's amazing what Cammell got past Warner; this is perhaps the first major studio film to embrace androgyny and bi-sexuality in its main characters without judgment. And it's not just in the hideaway maze of Turner's oasis, where identities blur in the games of musical beds (on Blu-ray it's much easier to see that it's Mick and James in a post-coital cuddle before the identity shifts once again). Pay attention you'll see that mob boss Harry Flowers relaxes to gay porn while in bed. It gives this portrait of London thug machismo a homoerotic quality that is more than just a suggestion. Sex and violence aren't simply connected, they are intertwined here along with the fluid idea of identity and sexuality. The Blu-ray debut looks brings out details not apparent on the DVD. The 2007 DVD release clipped a line that has been restored for this edition - "Here's to old England!" - and presents a different vocal performance for actor Johnny Shannon, who plays mob boss Harry Flowers. Some of the performances were rerecorded for the American release to soften the cockney accents and it's not clear which version this is. The film was released in mono and so is disc; the dense soundtrack sometimes gets muddied in the mix, but "Memo From Turner" sounds terrific. It jumps out of the mix. Also includes the 24-minute featurette "Performance: Influence and Controversy," a very good piece on the production, release, and culture of the film, originally produced in 2007 for the DVD release. It doesn't feature any of the primary participants (no Jagger, Fox, or Roeg, and Donald Cammell died in 1996) but it does include interview with producers David Cammell and Sanford Lieberson, editor Frank Mazzolla, and co-star Anita Pallenberg. The archival "Memo From Turner" is a five-minute promotional piece from the film's original release that focuses on Jagger's contributions to the film and features almost the entire song. The supplements are not presented in HD. by Sean Axmaker

Performance - James Fox & Mick Jagger in Nicholas Roeg & Donald Cammell's PERFORMANCE on DVD


By 1970 exploitation films about drugs, sex and rock 'n' roll were already sputtering to an end. The kids weren't buying nonsense like Psych-Out anymore, and many of the big-studio attempts to corner the market were no longer reaching wide audiences: Getting Straight, Zachariah, even Michaelangelo Antonini's Zabriskie Point: " How you get there, depends on where you're at!"

Warner Bros. must have had high hopes for Performance , the dramatic debut of Rolling Stones' superstar Mick Jagger. They screened the first cut of Donald Cammell and Nicolas Roeg's violent, symbolic art film and decided it was too incoherent to release. Performance finally appeared in 1970, after Hollywood had been shaken by the surprise counterculture hit Easy Rider. A sophisticated visual and aural knockout, the film begins as a gangster tale and morphs into an investigation of the meaning of identity, complete with references to the literary puzzle master Luis Borges.

Synopsis: London thug Chas (James Fox) terrorizes people for hoodlum Harry Flowers (Johnny Shannon) until Harry finds it advantageous to shift his business to one of Chas's old enemies. Barely managing to escape with his life, Chas holes up in a rented room belonging to Turner (Mick Jagger), a reclusive rock star. Chas pretends to be a juggler, a deception that fools nobody, especially not Turner's long-time girlfriend Pherber (Anita Pallenberg). Turner, Pherber and their other playmate Lucy (Michele Breton) decide to feed Chas magic mushrooms to find out what makes him tick. Chas asks for a passport photo, beginning a game of identities that eventually blurs the boundaries between Chas and Turner.

We can only guess at what Warner Bros. executives expected from a hip film project featuring Mick Jagger -- something like A Hard Day's Night, perhaps? It's no surprise that Performance was put on hold indefinitely. Even though the new rating code had changed what could be shown on a screen, content this strong wouldn't be seen until 1971's crop of explicit sex and violence: Straw Dogs, The Devils, A Clockwork Orange. Performance is uncommonly violent and erotic, but mostly by implication. It's also never crude -- I'm not sure we ever hear a curse word.

Donald Cammell's screenplay starts as a brutal gangster picture, with hoods in the South side of London using force to take over businesses ("We prefer the word merge"). James Fox's well-dressed extortionist Chas thinks nothing of intimidating a prominent lawyer, the perfectly cast Allan Cuthbertson. One extremely effective scene shows Chas ruining the lawyer's expensive Rolls-Royce by dousing it with acid. He then ties the lawyer's chauffer to the front bumper and shaves his head.

Once hidden in the drugged-out digs of Jagger's Turner, Chas is forced to play a psychedelic variation on the personality games of Joseph Losey's The Servant. Turner is a restless rock 'n' roll idol finished with performing. He does, however, carry on an endless orgy of sex and drugs with his two girlfriends. A tiny kid from the neighborhood, Turner's biggest fan, does odd jobs for them.

That rundown on Performance doesn't begin to describe what the movie's really like. The constant games between Turner and Chas go far beyond mirror images and The Secret Sharer identity exchanges; the men are like unstable molecules, ready to exchange properties with each other. The immaculately dressed Chas called himself a 'performer' when he intimidated his victims, and he masquerades as a juggler as part of his ploy to ingratiate himself with his new landlord. Bona fide performer Turner sees through Chas but seems to respect his arrogant stance. Turner's creative motivation, his Demon, has left him, and maybe Chas can bring it back.

Meanwhile, we're invited along to witness a post-Mod happening scene of the kind that only rock stars experience. Turner, his old lady Pherber and their (probably underage) visa-challenged French playmate frolic in various combinations for a good part of the film's running time. Scenes in Turner's oversized bed and giant tub are more convincing than those seen in bohemian exposés like Quiet Days in Clichy. Pherber injects herself with what she claims is Vitamin B-12. She invades Chas' bed and challenges him to investigate his feminine side -- something fairly revolutionary for a 1968 film. She also takes apart Chas' automatic pistol ... before Turner and co. similarly dismantle Chas' brain with psychedelic mushrooms.

Co-directors Cammell and Roeg perform their own cinematic magic through inventive direction, excellent staging and luminous camerawork. There are few 'trippy' camera angles; the most conventional art-film setups involve mirrors and Persona- like dissolves between Chas and Turner as they begin to morph into a composite identity. Roeg knows how to make an image beautiful without interrupting the flow of the film -- one of the sex scenes (which could very well be the real thing) benefits from a rosy look duplicating light filtered through a blanket.

Many 60s movies about drug trips are now embarrassments, even quite a bit of Roger Corman's original The Trip. When Chas trips out over the multicolored inlays of Turner's coffee table --"This is beautiful. I want to buy this" -- Performance is one hundred percent dead-on accurate.

We're told that the original script resolved with more gangster action involving a drug deal, but the film as finished dives straight into the brains of the two leading characters and really never comes up for air. James Fox is excellent as the chilling gang enforcer. In one of his few starring roles, Jagger is a sensation ... "Turner" is supposedly based on the personality of one of his fellow Stones band members. Anita Pallenberg (Barbarella) reportedly contributed to the screenplay; she has the look of a beauty slightly hardened by the drug life. Chas' gangster associates are a chilling assortment of jolly cutthroats led by Johnny Shannon's thuggish Harry Flowers, a bespectacled and gay 'business entrepreneur.'

Jagger sings a couple of songs in a natural mode, and prances about his recording studio to show Chas a bit of his performing style. The film's classic line comes when Chas watches Turner dance: "You'll be a funny geezer when you're 50." Now 64, Jagger has been a lot of things, but 'geezer' isn't one of them. The movie's many themes reach their peak in a bravura musical number, Memo from T. It's a fantastic -- dare I say it? -- music video that 80s MTV efforts never even touched. Turner assumes a new identity mixing up facets of both Chas and Harry Flowers. With his hair slicked back, Turner assumes Chas' threatening stance and belts out the lyrics while chairing a meeting of sexually subservient mobsters. It's both funny and scary.

Warners' DVD of Performance is listed with an "R" rating. The film was originally tagged with an "X" but I'm told that what is shown here is a bit longer than standard American release prints. The scratched, broken 35mm prints that once circulated were a mess -- for many of us, this disc is going to be the first opportunity to see the film in one piece. The colors are quite good, allowing us to appreciate tricks like switching to grainy 16mm to represent Pherber's 8mm bedroom movies. Jack Nitzsche's music track uses one of the first Moog synthesizers to create disturbing effects. A music cue similar to an electronic chime is used to interrupt a speech in court.

The good documentary gathers the film's producer, Ms. Pallenberg and others to delineate this film's strange path to the screen. Uncredited editor Frank Mazzola explains that everyone but Donald Cammell left the project when Warners took it over, and he spent months in the cutting room re-inventing a first cut judged overlong and unwieldy. By reorganizing some scenes and adding many new fractured montages, the film came down in length and gained both energy and form. The first shot up is an unrelated angle on a rocket-jet, to introduce a staccato montage sequence of Chas enjoying a wild sex party in the back of a moving limousine. Many splintered, fast-cut montages in other films from this period now resemble herky-jerky exhibitions of editorial masturbation. These are magnificent.

The disc also contains an original trailer and an original release featurette with some great material of Jagger and Cammell on the set, put together by promo people trying to fit Performance into a commercial mold.

For more information about Performance, visit Warner Video. To order Performance, go to TCM Shopping.

by Glenn Erickson

Performance - James Fox & Mick Jagger in Nicholas Roeg & Donald Cammell's PERFORMANCE on DVD

By 1970 exploitation films about drugs, sex and rock 'n' roll were already sputtering to an end. The kids weren't buying nonsense like Psych-Out anymore, and many of the big-studio attempts to corner the market were no longer reaching wide audiences: Getting Straight, Zachariah, even Michaelangelo Antonini's Zabriskie Point: " How you get there, depends on where you're at!" Warner Bros. must have had high hopes for Performance , the dramatic debut of Rolling Stones' superstar Mick Jagger. They screened the first cut of Donald Cammell and Nicolas Roeg's violent, symbolic art film and decided it was too incoherent to release. Performance finally appeared in 1970, after Hollywood had been shaken by the surprise counterculture hit Easy Rider. A sophisticated visual and aural knockout, the film begins as a gangster tale and morphs into an investigation of the meaning of identity, complete with references to the literary puzzle master Luis Borges. Synopsis: London thug Chas (James Fox) terrorizes people for hoodlum Harry Flowers (Johnny Shannon) until Harry finds it advantageous to shift his business to one of Chas's old enemies. Barely managing to escape with his life, Chas holes up in a rented room belonging to Turner (Mick Jagger), a reclusive rock star. Chas pretends to be a juggler, a deception that fools nobody, especially not Turner's long-time girlfriend Pherber (Anita Pallenberg). Turner, Pherber and their other playmate Lucy (Michele Breton) decide to feed Chas magic mushrooms to find out what makes him tick. Chas asks for a passport photo, beginning a game of identities that eventually blurs the boundaries between Chas and Turner. We can only guess at what Warner Bros. executives expected from a hip film project featuring Mick Jagger -- something like A Hard Day's Night, perhaps? It's no surprise that Performance was put on hold indefinitely. Even though the new rating code had changed what could be shown on a screen, content this strong wouldn't be seen until 1971's crop of explicit sex and violence: Straw Dogs, The Devils, A Clockwork Orange. Performance is uncommonly violent and erotic, but mostly by implication. It's also never crude -- I'm not sure we ever hear a curse word. Donald Cammell's screenplay starts as a brutal gangster picture, with hoods in the South side of London using force to take over businesses ("We prefer the word merge"). James Fox's well-dressed extortionist Chas thinks nothing of intimidating a prominent lawyer, the perfectly cast Allan Cuthbertson. One extremely effective scene shows Chas ruining the lawyer's expensive Rolls-Royce by dousing it with acid. He then ties the lawyer's chauffer to the front bumper and shaves his head. Once hidden in the drugged-out digs of Jagger's Turner, Chas is forced to play a psychedelic variation on the personality games of Joseph Losey's The Servant. Turner is a restless rock 'n' roll idol finished with performing. He does, however, carry on an endless orgy of sex and drugs with his two girlfriends. A tiny kid from the neighborhood, Turner's biggest fan, does odd jobs for them. That rundown on Performance doesn't begin to describe what the movie's really like. The constant games between Turner and Chas go far beyond mirror images and The Secret Sharer identity exchanges; the men are like unstable molecules, ready to exchange properties with each other. The immaculately dressed Chas called himself a 'performer' when he intimidated his victims, and he masquerades as a juggler as part of his ploy to ingratiate himself with his new landlord. Bona fide performer Turner sees through Chas but seems to respect his arrogant stance. Turner's creative motivation, his Demon, has left him, and maybe Chas can bring it back. Meanwhile, we're invited along to witness a post-Mod happening scene of the kind that only rock stars experience. Turner, his old lady Pherber and their (probably underage) visa-challenged French playmate frolic in various combinations for a good part of the film's running time. Scenes in Turner's oversized bed and giant tub are more convincing than those seen in bohemian exposés like Quiet Days in Clichy. Pherber injects herself with what she claims is Vitamin B-12. She invades Chas' bed and challenges him to investigate his feminine side -- something fairly revolutionary for a 1968 film. She also takes apart Chas' automatic pistol ... before Turner and co. similarly dismantle Chas' brain with psychedelic mushrooms. Co-directors Cammell and Roeg perform their own cinematic magic through inventive direction, excellent staging and luminous camerawork. There are few 'trippy' camera angles; the most conventional art-film setups involve mirrors and Persona- like dissolves between Chas and Turner as they begin to morph into a composite identity. Roeg knows how to make an image beautiful without interrupting the flow of the film -- one of the sex scenes (which could very well be the real thing) benefits from a rosy look duplicating light filtered through a blanket. Many 60s movies about drug trips are now embarrassments, even quite a bit of Roger Corman's original The Trip. When Chas trips out over the multicolored inlays of Turner's coffee table --"This is beautiful. I want to buy this" -- Performance is one hundred percent dead-on accurate. We're told that the original script resolved with more gangster action involving a drug deal, but the film as finished dives straight into the brains of the two leading characters and really never comes up for air. James Fox is excellent as the chilling gang enforcer. In one of his few starring roles, Jagger is a sensation ... "Turner" is supposedly based on the personality of one of his fellow Stones band members. Anita Pallenberg (Barbarella) reportedly contributed to the screenplay; she has the look of a beauty slightly hardened by the drug life. Chas' gangster associates are a chilling assortment of jolly cutthroats led by Johnny Shannon's thuggish Harry Flowers, a bespectacled and gay 'business entrepreneur.' Jagger sings a couple of songs in a natural mode, and prances about his recording studio to show Chas a bit of his performing style. The film's classic line comes when Chas watches Turner dance: "You'll be a funny geezer when you're 50." Now 64, Jagger has been a lot of things, but 'geezer' isn't one of them. The movie's many themes reach their peak in a bravura musical number, Memo from T. It's a fantastic -- dare I say it? -- music video that 80s MTV efforts never even touched. Turner assumes a new identity mixing up facets of both Chas and Harry Flowers. With his hair slicked back, Turner assumes Chas' threatening stance and belts out the lyrics while chairing a meeting of sexually subservient mobsters. It's both funny and scary. Warners' DVD of Performance is listed with an "R" rating. The film was originally tagged with an "X" but I'm told that what is shown here is a bit longer than standard American release prints. The scratched, broken 35mm prints that once circulated were a mess -- for many of us, this disc is going to be the first opportunity to see the film in one piece. The colors are quite good, allowing us to appreciate tricks like switching to grainy 16mm to represent Pherber's 8mm bedroom movies. Jack Nitzsche's music track uses one of the first Moog synthesizers to create disturbing effects. A music cue similar to an electronic chime is used to interrupt a speech in court. The good documentary gathers the film's producer, Ms. Pallenberg and others to delineate this film's strange path to the screen. Uncredited editor Frank Mazzola explains that everyone but Donald Cammell left the project when Warners took it over, and he spent months in the cutting room re-inventing a first cut judged overlong and unwieldy. By reorganizing some scenes and adding many new fractured montages, the film came down in length and gained both energy and form. The first shot up is an unrelated angle on a rocket-jet, to introduce a staccato montage sequence of Chas enjoying a wild sex party in the back of a moving limousine. Many splintered, fast-cut montages in other films from this period now resemble herky-jerky exhibitions of editorial masturbation. These are magnificent. The disc also contains an original trailer and an original release featurette with some great material of Jagger and Cammell on the set, put together by promo people trying to fit Performance into a commercial mold. For more information about Performance, visit Warner Video. To order Performance, go to TCM Shopping. by Glenn Erickson

Quotes

I need a bohemian atmosphere!
- Chas
That rug's over a thousand years old.
- Turner
Yeah, it looks it.
- Chas
The only performance that makes it, that makes it all the way, is the one that achieves madness. Am I right? Eh?
- Turner
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
- Chas
"Leave a message after the beep. Beep, beep, BEEP!
- Pherber
You're gonna look funny when you're fifty.
- Chas

Trivia

Was filmed in 1968, but vaulted for 2 years by its distributor, Warner Bros

Director Donald Cammell arranged for James Fox to spend time with real East London gangsters to help prepare his character.

Most of the audience walked out of the first preview screening. The release was delayed for two years while it was re-edited three times. Editor Frank Mazzola used montage of images and time jumps which later became his trademark style.

Turner's address in the film is 81 Powis Square. Exterior shots were actually filmed at number 25 Powis Square, whilst interior shooting was done at 15 Lowndes Square, Knightsbridge. The neighbours of the latter address were paid to go on holiday for the duration of the shoot, during which time the cast lived in the house.

Notes

Released in London in January 1971; running time: 102 min. Working title: The Performers.

Miscellaneous Notes

Released in United States June 1996

Released in United States March 1998

Released in United States Summer August 3, 1970

Re-released in United States May 11, 2001

Shown at Santa Barbara International Film Festival March 5-15, 1998.

Contrary to popular perception, this film was directed by Donald Cammell with Nicolas Roeg serving as "co-directing cameraman."

Shot in 1968.

Re-released in United States May 11, 2001 (Film Forum; New York City)

Released in United States June 1996 (Shown in Los Angeles (American Cinematheque) as part of program "Jagged Time Lapse: A Tribute to Nicolas Roeg" June 1-15, 1996.)

Released in United States Summer August 3, 1970

Released in United States March 1998 (Shown at Santa Barbara International Film Festival March 5-15, 1998.)