An audible groan erupted from my deepest gut when I first heard about the Hulu/FX six-part Sex Pistols biopic Pistol based on guitarist Steve Jones’ autobiography. Exhausted by over-rated, over-hyped, and over-wigged biopics about Freddie Mercury, Elton John, and Mötley Crüe in recent years, I was expecting it to be right inline. Even the fact that Danny Boyle (Trainspotting) was directing didn’t heighten my hopes.

The story’s been told before, after all. The 1986 Alex Cox film Sid and Nancy was pretty good, and something special in a time before Sex Pistols tee shirts flew off the shelves at Hot Topic and Target, proudly worn by Blink 182 and Avril Lavigne fans who don’t know “Pretty Vacant” from “Sk8r Boi.” A slightly different angle, sure, but was this really necessary?

Pistol is told largely from Jones’ perspective, a “thick,” neglected kid with a major asshole of a step-father and a mother who does the best she can, short of leaving the abusive jerk. He finds the affection and attention he needs in a few places – alcohol, rock and roll, and the arms of Chrissie Hynde, an Ohio transplant trying to stake her identity in the London music scene, with integrity intact, but little success. The Hynde story is central to the plot of the series and based on fact – she was definitely around in those days – but elements were certainly embellished for film. Regardless, if you can suspend reality for a bit, her character is strong and will have you reaching for the first Pretenders record when the credits roll at the end of the last episode.

Enter one Malcom McLaren, the architect of the Pistols’ brand, and the instrument of their ultimate downfall. He helps Jones out of a bind, strategically becoming the sort of father-figure he needs when he needs it most, and the Sex Pistols are born. John Lydon - animatedly played by Anson Boon - antagonizes, pouts, and eventually inserts his bug-eyed influence into the band, giving them the “face” they need but also eventually resent as the story comes to a climax at the notorious Winterland in San Fransisco in 1978. “Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?”

It's hard to poke big holes in the series. At six parts it feels about right. It moves fast, there’s very little opportunity to become bored, and it’s generally entertaining, funny, well-written and acted, and occasionally nostalgic. Hearing “Submission” played in one of the concert scenes took me back to hearing that song for the first time myself and loving that riff, and got me thinking about how long it’s been since I last spun Never Mind the Bullocks…Here’s the Sex Pistols. There’s plenty you can chalk up to creative film-making over factual history, but that’s not unusual for any movie based on actual events.

John Lydon certainly isn’t thrilled with it, and he’s not wrong. It’s everything the Pistols’ pretended to be against back then, but sorry Mr. Rotten, I have always (and still to this day) love hearing you talk (even when I disagree with your views), but that ship sailed with the gratuitous money-grab reunion tours in the `90s and `00s. Still, it’s only right that he’s speaking out against it, and probably only contributes to the viewership in the end, and a subsequent boost to his royalties as viewers en masse fire up “Anarchy in the U.K.” in their Spotify queues. Variety Magazine reports that “God Save the Queen” hit #1 this past week, during the Queen’s Jubilee in the UK “45 years to the day after it was infamously denied the top slot” around the same event in 1977.

The Sid & Nancy stuff is a bit of a rehash, and at times the sex is a bit gratuitous, but they’re careful not to overdo some elements that other filmmakers make – tortured childhoods, inflated egos, and easy symbolic references to the hidden, dark events that preceded the story. It’s not The Godfather or Sophie’s Choice, but for a rock-biopic it’s better than most, and a perfectly fine way to spend a few hours reliving the incredibly exciting and important birth of British punk rock.   

Jeremy Porter lives near Detroit and fronts the rock and roll band Jeremy Porter And The Tucos. Follow them on Facebook to read his road blog about their adventures on the dive-bar circuit.
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