Directed by Frank Pavich
Review by David Carter


Released by Halo 8
Running Time: 87 minutes
Rating: Not Rated
Color format: Color
Audio/Subtitles: 2.0 Stereo English/English, Spanish, German, French, Dutch, and Japanese Subtitles
Region Code: 1, NTSC
Aspect Ratio: 1.33:1
16:9 Enhanced: No
Special Features: 2-Disc: Disc 1: deleted scenes, commentary, complete live performances, Disc 2: “Last Rites of CBGB,” Updated interviews with bands featured
Trailer Online: No


Short Version: A fascinating glimpse inside a subculture at its zenith

Today, someone anywhere in the world can sit down at their computer, pull up Wikipedia and read all about New York Hardcore, it’s influences, the names of band members’ children, and any other obscure detail one could imagine. A few double-clicks later and you can make a favorite band your MySpace friend, download some songs on iTunes, or check out their latest gig on YouTube. As amazing as it is to have a world of information at your fingertips, it has the tendency to make you forget that just thirteen years ago (the same time NYHC was filmed) things weren’t like that. Bands that weren’t signed to a major label were practically unknown outside of their local area. NYHC changed that for one scene.

In 1995, few scenes were as active and talented as the New York hardcore scene. Frank Pavich’s NYHC is a documentary on the bands, the fans, and the situations that gave rise to that particular brand of music. Rather than using a traditional ethnographic or educational documentary style to explore a world that few would have knowledge of, Pavich wisely lets the participants and their music speak for themselves. Therefore there is not a strong documentarian narrative voice in the film. This is not Pavich explaining New York Hardcore to the uninitiated, but him allowing them to introduce themselves to the world. NYHC the documentary mimics the same philosophy that the music does: no frills, just raw truth and emotion.

Of the multiple bands and personalities featured, it is perhaps Rick ta Life of 25 ta Life that best sums up the documentary, if not the scene itself. Rick is one of the most frequent interviewees and the camera always seems to find him in any crowd scene—leading me to believe that this idea of him as NYHC poster boy was in Pavich’s mind as well. In interviews, Rick is eloquent, soft-spoken, humble, and affable. At other bands’ shows Rick is always the first one in the fray to break up a fight and make sure everyone has a good time. On stage with his own band Rick is a very different person. Dreads failing, he unleashes a voice that sounds almost demonic; the newcomers will no doubt need the subtitles to understand any of it.

The seemingly paradoxically different personas of Rick are an apt metaphor for hardcore. It would be easy to dismiss the scene as aggressive and angry based on the sound and the occasionally violent shows. However, as the documentary progresses it becomes evident that this is not true. An outsider myself, I was surprised to find that the most common messages in hardcore are unity, community, and a celebration of individuality. In the almost ninety-minutes of the film there is not one voice of negativity. The music in NYHC is the soundtrack to a lifestyle; one that is more welcoming and accepting than you might imagine.

To attempt to give a scene-by-scene breakdown would be pointless. NYHC does not attempt to define or explain the scene but instead to simply document a particular period of time. The film has no agenda; there is no narrative progression from beginning to end. We leave the bands in the film in essentially the same state we found them in. In this regard it is clear to see how NYHC has become an underground classic; it crystallizes a singular moment in time completely rather attempting to document a transitional phase.

NYHC is as powerful a film as it was over ten years ago. Halo 8’s DVD takes the film to another level, however. The two-disc presentation features over eight hours of footage, all new to this DVD. The highlight of disc one is a complete roster of live performances from every band in the film. The standout moment for the entire collection appears on disc two: a collection of “where are they now” featurettes from the entire group. I won’t spoil any of them for you, but there are more than a few shocking changes.

You don’t have to be a NYHC fan to enjoy this film. Honestly, even if you can’t stand this type of music, the film is too engaging to ignore. It is one of the few music documentaries that doesn’t turn into a promotional video or go too far into “Behind the Music” melodrama territory. If you are a hardcore fan, though, or even just a music lover you can’t pass this set up.