Dir.
Michael Dowse, 2004, UK/Canada, 90 min
Cast: Paul Kaye, Mike Wilmot
It's All Gone Pete Tong seems a blessing and a curse for the name of a movie. On the one hand it sums up the downward spiral its main character finds himself battling against, but the use of cheeky cockney rhyming slang is likely to lull audiences into a false sense of joviality and mockery while completely foxing the all important US market. The movie did begin life with just the title but what's emerged is something of a hybrid, a comedy with heart, an Ibiza movie that isn't just about largin' it and a genuine disability story set against the rise, fall and rise again of its hero. If the producers expected Spinal Tap on Ecstasy then they've found out exactly what going Pete Tong is all about.
Frankie Wilde (Kaye) is the dance floor darling of Ibiza's thumping club scene, a DJ living up to his name in sun-kissed excesses of women, coke and flip-flops. Shot guerrilla style as a mock-doc biography we follow Wilde as the buzz surrounding him quickly becomes a hum, then a whisper; the hedonist's hero realises he is going deaf. Inevitably highs become lows as his model wife (Kate Magowan) ditches him and prat of an agent (Wilmot) goes looking for funds for his speedboat habit elsewhere. Think Johnny Depp in Blow making it to the number 1 dealer in town then having it all painfully stripped away. Quickly Wilde is trapped in an isolated world of silence, cast out by the denizens of the party capital of the world and his only lifeline is deaf teacher Penelope (Beatriz Batarda) who can help him cope with his condition.
Largely improvised IAGPT merges Kaye's ballsy, typically brash central performance with interviews from real life DJs such as Carl Cox, Charlie Chester and Pete Tong himself and quickly gets to the heart of club culture that its vibrant musical art mixed with heady excess. Filmed on location the clubs themselves make up very little screen time and scenes of sweaty party animals raving away are taken as read with Cream and Manumission putting in token appearances but those expecting Kevin and Perry Go Large to relive their own 18-30 holiday will be disappointed by an avoidance of tourist hotspots. Dowse has gone for a more mature approach despite the film's ragged, thrown-together style as if Ibiza itself has grown up since the yobbish, lad culture days of Ibiza Uncovered . The same DJs still rock the island but it's honed, all about the music. Dowse forces Wilde into the choice of either that or the drugs, surreally represented by the eponymous figure of the 'coke badger', a smacked-up version of Donnie Darko's Frank, who's always on the edge of Wilde's subconscious to drag him back to its powdery bosom.
While there are dials that go up to 11, the film never gives in to simply spoofing DJs themselves. When the deaf angle is brought to the fore it's left to an outrageous Kaye to make the most of his chance to shout obscenities and the former Dennis Pennis star makes sure they all count. Batarda, an actress who isn't deaf, puts in a tender, realistic performance as the strong, if a little convenient, love interest that offers possible redemption.
You expect an Ibiza movie to be loud but the soundtrack itself is surprisingly reserved and instead Dowse uses volume effectively to show Wilde's worrying downfall. The enjoyment experienced from the film will depend if Kaye yelling a lot is a distraction, but Dowse never chooses the easy option and tackles the disability head-on.
IAGPT packs a lot into an epic 90 minutes to produce the highs and lows associated with any challenging independent feature that don't always follow any particular template. Sometimes not as in time with the beats as you'd hope, the full-on attitude of club culture is mixed with rock 'n' roll filming to create a story that is both funny, heartfelt and even more bizarrely for a UK film, one set in the sun.
Richard Badley
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