Con’s Score: 3.5 Wild Ones
What is surprising about this first documentary about the Queen of Rock, Suzie Quatro, is that it’s Australian and financed by Film Victoria and Screen Australia. Suzie Kay Quatro was born in Detroit, Michigan. What is also surprising is that director Liam Firmager wasn’t a real devotee, as he’s thrown everything at this.
Firmager has a lot of access to Suzie, her family, friends and many devotees. It traces her career from the beginning when she played bass in an all-girl group, the Pleasure Seekers, which included her sisters. She was just 14 years old. Her guitar was bigger than she was, but so was her talent.
There are interviews with Alice Cooper, Joan Jett (who was a real devotee), Henry Winkler (the Fonz), Cherie Currie from the Runaways, Wendy James from Transvision Vamp (why?), Debbie Harry (Blondie), artists from Talking Heads, L7, the singer from Sweet, bands who had nothing to do with Suzie, Tim Rice, club owners… I was surprised I didn’t get a call. You will have to admit, Susie has aged a lot better than all of them.
Even as a bass player, she stood out and was noticed by Mike Most, a South African record producer, who wanted her to go to London with him. Just her, not the band, which created a rift with her family. She was alone in Mayfair, London, in a bed sit, trying to write a hit song. She did score a number one in Portugal, but they don’t even name the song it was so lame. She was given band mates but not much happens until they met Mike Chapman (who wrote hits for Sweet and later produced Blondie). He wrote a song that starts with a heavy bass line to suit Suzie, called Can the Can. They designed her a leather jump suit, got an appearance on Top of the Pops, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Suzie’s story still had some surprises for me. Her string of top 10 and number one hits charted well here, Europe and in the UK, but many did nothing in the USA. Go figure. She was still relatively unknown when she was cast as Leather Tuscadero in Happy Days. They wanted Debbie Harry, but Penny Marshall’s daughter showed her a Rolling Stone front cover of Suzi. She was respected because she was a female singer with an instrument and so much attitude was so rare in the 70s.
There is one scene when she goes onto the Russel Harty show, who before she sat down asked her to turn around so he could spank her bottom. It’s good to know he’s be decked and cancelled if he tried that today. Back then women didn’t talk back, but Suzie inspired so many females to pick up instruments and do it themselves. (And Firmager seems to have spoken to all of them plus a few hundred more.)
I also was unaware that once she had children and had put the guitar down, she took to the stage in the West End to play Annie Oakley. She even wrote a musical, hosted a radio show, chat show, wrote poetry and she’s still touring and recording.
It strikes you how energetic she is, but also what a damn nice person she is too. That’s the problem with Suzie. No drug habits, abuse, nastiness or temperamental side to her. Even her name is authentic. We even see her exercising… in a rock documentary? The only problems she has is an unforgiving sister, and some (now resolved) family issues.
The only fault here is the direction. Firmager overdoes the trickery. Not every sentiment needs to be illustrated, or tricked up with a sound effect or graphic. The best moments are when he allows his subjects to speak (without pointless cutaways) such as when he asks Susie, what she’d tell her younger self, and she tears up. (Focus on the questions and your subject Liam. We’re here to see them, not your bag of tricks.)
Either way, this does get very close to the essence of Miss Quatro and the effect she had on rock. She’s such a sweetie, you can’t begrudge her any of it. She’s a very gracious Rock Queen and here’s hoping they wake up and induct her into the Hall of Fame while she’s alive.
In cinemas now
Con Nats, On The Screen
