"Who Killed Nancy" was both terrible, and meaningful, at the very same time. From an aethetic standpoint, the film was done in the most despicable cheap video around. BUT. The information was so extremely informative, and delivered such importance, that it serviced a respectable "Means to a cheap-video End". I am now absolutely certain that punk musician Sid Vicious (John) did not murder his wacky girlfriend Nancy. The evidence provided by the police reports, the testimonies from all of those who were in the room (rm. 100) at the Chelsea Hotel that night, successfully do what the NYC police department, Rikers Island, and criminal court never got the chance to do (since Sid aka John died a month after the crime committed). All "story" aside, there was a statement made by a member of that movement that impacted me profoundly. "Drug addiction is a disease. And how can you hate a person inflicted with a disease. That's like hating those who are suffering cancer." It is so true, and carries such complexities. When you love a person, who is inflicted with this "disease", it's so hard to not get angry at all of the the collateral damage that tags along. The Thefts. The Lies. The Cheating. The Devious behaviour. The Relapses. All = Tuff stuff. You see this film and you hear about his mother (who committed suicide when the Sex Pistols reunited) literally bringing him bags of needles at his apartment because she "loved her son so much" and you just sit there in your seat, drop your popcorn, and realize that Every Single Problem that we have stems from the beginning of our childhood. Makes ya wanna go dig up Freud and throw darts at him....or popcorn. Salted, of course. Why salted?? ummmm, contempt. the truth hurts Sig. Not Sid, SIG!
bye.
xo
