Horror-rock star Alice Cooper once perfectly described Detroit-born gonzo-rock magazine Creem as somewhere between a “teen magazine, Mad magazine, and a hard-rock magazine,” and this unabashedly celebratory documentary by Scott Crawford (written by former Creem editor Jaan Uhelszki) is a worthy cinematic fete of a confrontationally rude, crude, but ultimately game-changing pop culture magazine that (at least in its heyday in the 1970s) was the perfect journalistic embodiment of the sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll ethos.
Creem was poised in 1969 to become the rebellious antithesis of the already blandified Rolling Stone, and Crawford’s documentary makes no bones about the underdog working-class cred of Creem compared to Jann Wenner’s high-society aspirations with the upwardly mobile Rolling Stone. However, as the film inevitably shows, the Creem staff’s collective aspiration of trying to achieve the same levels of hedonism as the rock gods they covered took a toll on the staff’s physical and mental health (Publisher Barry Kramer and editor and infamous Noise Boy Lester Bangs would both die of drug overdoses in the 1980s.) Early on, there was nonstop editorial head butting between the two main alpha males of the magazine—Lester Bangs, who just wanted to goof on music and musicians, and Dave Marsh, who wanted the magazine to take a more militant political angle. And because of the communal nature of their operation (all the staff lived together), it was no surprise that this boozy, druggy, opinionated, underpaid gaggle of self-styled lowlifes would get on each other’s nerves after a while.
Crawford’s film also charts the personnel and content changes throughout the magazine’s 20-year existence, from its original (and dangerous) Cass Avenue offices in downtown Detroit, to a 150-acre ranch in the Michigan countryside, to finally a more middle-class suburban office in Birmingham, Michigan. With a star-studded cast of interviewees all genuflecting at the altar of their favorite rock magazines as youngsters—Michael Stipe, Alice Cooper, Joan Jett, Red Hot Chili Pepper drummer Chad Smith, Pearl Jam’s Jeff Ament, and Metallica’s Kirk Hammett among others—Creem offers a bittersweet nostalgic look at a long-vanished era of print music journalism. But Crawford’s doc also gives a glimmer of hope for Creem’s future, as we learn that the heir to late publisher Barry Kramer’s seemingly lost empire, son JJ Kramer, has plans to kickstart the legendary magazine again with a 21st-century makeover. Aud: C, P. Recommended.