You think you're the first Aussie to fantasise about making it in the Big Apple? Lillian Roxon already did - more than 40 years ago. Brassy, bitchy and capable of reducing Germaine Greer to tears, Roxon pioneered the evocative, ironic style of music journalism that generations of rock critics would emulate. She wrote the world's first rock encyclopaedia and presided over underground hangout Max's Kansas City.
Her life is pretty hard for a documentary to xxx up. Still, Paul Clarke is far more respectful than Roxon herself. There's surprisingly little pizzazz here, from Judy Davis's somnolent narration to the clunky re-enactment sequences. Odd, since apart from Roxon's copious personal papers, letters and prolific published work (voiced sassily by Sacha Horler), Clarke had access to recordings of private phone conversations between Roxon and her BFF, record exec Danny Fields.
Still, through the recollections of her friends, admirers and antagonists, she emerges as brilliant, arrogant and driven, yet oddly lonely and vulnerable. As Germaine noted in her backhanded Female Eunuch dedication, Roxon was fat, poor and unlucky in love. She died alone, of an asthma attack, in 1973. She was her work... but her wit and prescience remain her legacy.
What:
Mother of Rock
When:
Out now on DVD
Watch the trailer:
Here
Win:
Thanks to Madman, we have a DVD to give away! To enter, email your details to
brisbane.win@rightanglestudio.com.au your postal address with the subject ‘She looked like a Botticelli angel who'd just finished giving King Kong a blow job' to
