GG Allin & The Murder Junkies
Terror In America (MVD)
by Ewan Wadharmi
They can release all the post-mortem Tupac material they want (this summer, there’s an entire album built around messages he left on answering machines), they’ll never touch the prolific beyond-the-grave output of G.G. Allin. This exhumation examines performances just scant months prior to what Merle Allin calls his brother’s “untimely death.” Untimely, in this case, meaning three years late, as his promised onstage suicide slated for Halloween 1990 was averted only by his notorious arrest for aggravated assault. Allin’s self-destructive, audience-abusing antics were certainly shocking at the time, and took performance art to new levels. Mostly lower ones. But this particular document contains none of the shit-flinging, banana inserting or fellating we’ve seen in Raw, Brutal, Rough And Bloody. Perhaps thankfully so. Clad in only a jockstrap, Allin does climb up on stage fixtures to show his brown-eye. He throw a few cursory punches at a couple of fans, but his heart’s not in it. They return blows, but only to humor him. And he bloodies himself, as usual. So all that’s left to enjoy is the music… ummm, right.
Essentially, like Hated, this is a fetish movie. Just that this one is softcore. The extremely boring bonus features of an instore and a family party should constitute the absolute last remaining unreleased footage of the man born Jesus Christ Allin. Perhaps now he can rest face down in a bag of smack.