{"id":2039,"date":"2011-11-15T12:48:09","date_gmt":"2011-11-15T11:48:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/?p=2039"},"modified":"2011-11-15T12:48:09","modified_gmt":"2011-11-15T11:48:09","slug":"lawrence-of-belgravia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/2011\/11\/15\/lawrence-of-belgravia\/","title":{"rendered":"Lawrence of Belgravia"},"content":{"rendered":"<figure id=\"attachment_2040\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-2040\" style=\"width: 594px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/review_LAWRENCE_OF_BELGRAVIA.jpg\" rel=\"lightbox[2039]\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/review_LAWRENCE_OF_BELGRAVIA.jpg?resize=474%2C349\" alt=\"\" title=\"Lawrence of Belgravia\" width=\"474\" height=\"349\" class=\"aligncenter size-large wp-image-2040\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/review_LAWRENCE_OF_BELGRAVIA.jpg?resize=594%2C437 594w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/review_LAWRENCE_OF_BELGRAVIA.jpg?resize=300%2C220 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/11\/review_LAWRENCE_OF_BELGRAVIA.jpg?w=800 800w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 474px) 100vw, 474px\" \/><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-2040\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Lawrence of Belgravia<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<div class=\"left\">\n<p class=\"caption\">\n<B>55th BFI London Film Festival<\/B> <br style=\"line-height: 22px;\"><br \/>\n12-27 October 2011, various venues, London <br style=\"line-height: 22px;\"><br \/>\n<A HREF=\"http:\/\/www.bfi.org.uk\/lff\/\" target=\"_blank\" >LFF website<\/A>\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<p>This subtle portrait of a reclusive indie musician seems to have generated one of London Film Festival&#8217;s warmest responses, with extra screenings needed for all the fans of Lawrence, the Birmingham-born progenitor of 80s and 90s bands Felt and Denim. Lawrence&#8217;s story is not a happy one: Felt&#8217;s ethereal guitar pop was arguably superior to, say, The Smiths, yet failed to rise above cult status; with Denim, Lawrence nailed 1990s indie&#8217;s obsession with nostalgia early in the decade, with a skewed wit and obsessive rigour that was probably a bit too much for Oasis and Blur fans. Mental health and drug problems have dogged his current band, Go-Kart Mozart, whose perverse synth-rock songs are exercises in self-sabotage lit by some occasionally inspired tunes and arrangements. Rather than construct a biopic focusing on his more palatable past, director Paul Kelly lets the present-day Lawrence steer the film, and it&#8217;s the better for it, albeit searingly moving and uncomfortable in places. We see Go-Kart Mozart stumble through rehearsals, recordings and some live shows, while Lawrence is interviewed by journalists (who seem in the main to still be holding a torch for Felt), sifts through archives of personal ephemera and moves into a new council flat on the edges of the City of London after being evicted from his previous home. The capital&#8217;s loneliness, its sharp, cold angles, are soulfully evoked by the filmmaker who also helped create St Etienne&#8217;s paean to London, <I>Finisterre<\/I> (2005).<\/p>\n<p>Kelly&#8217;s a friend of the singer, and you suspect some of Lawrence&#8217;s more unpleasant, paranoid traits have been softened in the edit &#45; although not that much; there&#8217;s a scene in which a new Go-Kart song seemingly about a fear of vaginas gets an airing. What he draws from Lawrence most valuably is his sharp critical intelligence and instinctive feel for pop music&#8217;s power and history &#45; things that seem unextinguished by failure or addiction or age. Listening to Lawrence talk about music, the secret magic life of it, is a pleasure, however spectral and neglected he looks now: if things had worked out a little differently, if Go-Kart&#8217;s &#8216;We&#8217;re Selfish and Lazy and Greedy&#8217; had taken off like &#8216;Common People&#8217;, perhaps he, like Jarvis Cocker &#45; another almost-failure from the 80s who triumphed in the following decade &#45; would be signing Faber deals and headlining stadia while pontificating about rare records on the radio. It&#8217;s this plucky eccentric almost-a-contender status that I think some of my fellow viewers of Lawrence of Belgravia seek to confer on him, but while it&#8217;s well-meaning, it implies a slightly sour triumph; Lawrence quite obviously would have liked to have been much more of a real star before becoming the outsider-ish ex-star he now appears to be.<\/p>\n<p>Musicians from the 90s, thought to be retired, seem to appear in the media at almost weekly intervals these days with news of a tour and a hint of some precious &#8216;new material&#8217;, while BBC4 documentaries on Creation Records and films like the recent account of Oxford&#8217;s alternative music scene, <I>Anyone Can Play Guitar<\/I>, recount indie&#8217;s various &#8216;golden ages&#8217;. <I>Lawrence of Belgravia<\/I> is both part of this trend, and a disruption of it, because his presence and participation stop us from celebrating this recent past too complacently. He is something of a ghost at the nostalgia feast; a ghost with a comedy song about Rwandan landmines and Um Bongo. The light in which we&#8217;ve cast &#8216;indie&#8217; and &#8216;the 90s&#8217; fades into an agoraphobic sickliness; not everyone got out OK.<\/p>\n<p>It is to Kelly&#8217;s credit that, despite the sadness at its heart, his film is so sincere, warm and affectionate. I loved it, but it left me chilled to the bone, writing 2000-word blog posts into the small hours, coshed with memories and having a good cry to Denim&#8217;s &#8216;I&#8217;m against the Eighties&#8217;. It was quite a trip, so I would advise any 30-something music nerds with similarly delicate dispositions to approach this film with caution.<\/p>\n<p><I><B>Frances Morgan<\/B><\/I><\/p>\n<div id=\"expander\"><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This subtle portrait of a reclusive indie musician seems to have generated one of London Film Festival&#8217;s warmest responses.<br \/>\n<I><B>Review by Frances Morgan<\/B><\/I><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[11,1,6],"tags":[222,221,223,220,167,224],"class_list":["post-2039","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-check-it-out","category-cinema-releases","category-festivals","tag-denim","tag-felt","tag-go-kart-mozart","tag-lawrence","tag-music-film","tag-paul-kelly"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","wps_subtitle":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/purUP-wT","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":1315,"url":"http:\/\/www.electricsheepmagazine.co.uk\/reviews\/2010\/09\/05\/winters-bone\/","url_meta":{"origin":2039,"position":0},"title":"Winter&#8217;s Bone","author":"VirginieSelavy","date":"September 5, 2010","format":false,"excerpt":"Winter in the Ozark Mountains. 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