I was never a part of the Club Kids scene – I arrived in New York way too late to run in those circles – though I did catch some fleeting after-images. While I had some fast times “back in ‘The Day’” as they say, I never approached anything near the hellish vacuous abandon that seemed so necessary to these hurtling chunks of emptiness around which the scene orbited. When Michael Alig crossed that final line of murderous sociopathy, he seemed to trigger a vortex that collapsed the entire scene.
This film is both entertaining and tragic, simultaneously fascinating and disturbing.
Other scenes at other times have thrown off crazy waves of nonsensical rebellious chaos, yet also produced intensely creative works of art and thought: the 60s, the jazz era, the grunge years. Perhaps I’m being overly harsh but then I was never a huge fan of things like techno and house, so maybe the DJ kings of the Club Kids were never my idols.