Stiv: No Compromise No Regrets - the legacy of a punk
11 May 2019

by Drew Rowsome -

Rock n roll has nothing to do with music. It's all attitude and social change

Rock n roll is the western civilization's voodoo

For the brief time it flourished, punk has had an outsized influence on music, art, fashion and, as Stiv Bators says in the documentary Stiv: No Compromise No Regrets, "attitude and social change." For every band or musician that dived into punk as the next big thing, there was the real thing, artists who worshipped at the hedonistic altar of rock n roll. Bators knew that, even forming The Lords of the New Church that he, tongue only partially in cheek, called a new religion.

Bators first band The Dead Boys are justifiably credited with being one of the architects of the punk movement. Influenced by Iggy and the Stooges and The Ramones, they influenced every band that came after. Stiv: No Compromise No Regrets begins on a houseboat in France where Bators is hosting a 40th birthday party. From there it flashes back and, in a roughly chronological order, documents Bators rise and fall and rise and fall. 

The live performances, Bators was renowned for being fearless in the Iggy Pop style, are the highlight, and it is invigorating to see and hear performances that we may never see the likes of again. There is even a clip of Bators hanging himself on stage, a gimmick he abandoned after winding up clinically dead for several minutes. But, as the documentary admits, he also turned in a lot of shambolic drugged-out and disastrous performances such as the only time I saw Bators live - he spent most of the show crawling around and inside the drum kit, pissing off his fellow bandmates but delighting the audience. 

Members of his former bands - he cycled through many bands - are interviewed and they all seem to remember Bators with rueful affection. We are repeatedly told about what a prankster he was, yet the specific examples are not particularly hilarious (car surfing, mooning and creating a mangina are most cited with a clip of the latter repeated several times). They chuckle at how difficult he could be and his penchant for stealing songwriting credits. His musical gifts are also praised but oddly his attempts at mainstream pop that consumed the end of his career are not explored. Nor is his film work, including starring with Divine in John Waters' Polyester. He never crossed over to the mainstream despite a strong desire to do so.

All of the bandmates are still at least tangentially involved with rock n roll (director Danny Garcia films them in front of artfully arranged piles of vintage gear) and they still have a rock n roll fashion sense. It is disconcerting that they are all now elder statesmen instead of the punks we remember. If Bators had lived, he would now be 75. While pop star contemporaries - Cher, Keith Richards, Dolly Parton, Nona Hendryx, Patti Smith - are allowed to age and continue to produce music that is relevant. Bators apparently always believed he would live fast, die young and stay pretty and, though it wasn't the most rock n roll way to depart, he did. That left a legacy that Stiv celebrates but also bets the question of what if he was another of the rare ones who became Iggy Pop instead of Johnny Lydon.  

There is also a treasure trove of photographs of Bators whose off-kilter emaciated good looks made him a sex symbol. His appeal earned him the affections of Cynthia Ross of The 'B' Girls (a Torontonian who will be part of the Q&As following the CineCycle screenings), legendary model and groupie Bebe Buell (who oddly does not appear in Stiv) and the late Caroline Warren. Naturally androgynous, Bators also dove into '80s crossdressing and big hair, flaunting his scrawny chest, butt and, apparently, mangina. The final moments of the film reveal that the urban legend John Waters tied to Stiv Bators was actually true. The people who loved him, and I'm sure there were many fans who would have joined in, did snort his ashes after he died. It was a very punk thing to do.