Title: Performance

Author/Artist: Mick Brown

Publisher: Bloomsbury

Media: Book

Reviewer: James Marriott

Bloomsbury and the BFI have both brought out their own ‘Film Classics’ lists of books recently – Performance is one of the few films covered by both. The Bloomsbury book is presented in an A-Z format, and here the form dictates the content; while the BFI book gives a linear account of the film’s origins, making and eventual release, the Bloomsbury book has the space for lengthy digressions, such as entries on Borges, Genet and Burroughs, as well as fuller accounts of the lives of cast members. Brown succeeds in tracking down and getting exclusive interviews with almost everyone involved (including the elusive Lucy, played by Michčle Breton), with the notable exception of Jagger. The format does seem awkward at times, though – some of the entries are a little forced, such as ‘In the Beginning …’ (under B) and ‘Did They? Or Didn’t They?’

While the BFI book probably has the edge in terms of the analysis of the film itself, there’s more information about the people and events surrounding the film in Bloomsbury’s entry: if you’re a fan of the film you’ll want both. Bizarrely, neither of them mentions Nabokov’s Despair as being one of the texts that inspired Performance, although it’s quoted by Nic Roeg as being the original inspiration. Neither Mick Brown nor Colin McCabe secure an interview with Roeg, and both underplay his involvement in the film – considering the quality of films made subsequently by both directors, it seems unlikely that Roeg’s input was as purely technical as is indicated here.

I remember going to see the film for the first time as a teenager, and being a little disappointed – I’d seen a few of what I’d considered ‘hippy films’ already, and expected solarisation effects, groovy nightclub scenes and Peter Fonda lurking somewhere. Now it’s one of the only films of its time that doesn’t seem hopelessly dated – in fact it looks fresher and more original with every repeat viewing; it’s frankly unimaginable that a major studio would release such a brave and visionary film in our own aggressively mediocre times. Even these two books don’t cover all the bases – see #2 of The Edge for Iain Sinclair’s superb essay on David Litvinoff, ‘dialogue coach and technical advisor’ on Performance. It’s a shame, though, that the critical success of the film eclipsed both the life and other films of Donald Cammell, who is surely deserving of at least one book himself.