BETTER THAN SOMETHING: JAY REATARD
(Alex Hammond and Ian Markiewicz, USA, 2011, 89 minutes)

During his relatively short stint on Earth, Jay Reatard poured his heart into his work. Love it or leave it, there's no denying his dedication to his music, but extreme careers often go hand-in-hand with extreme lives, and Reatard, born Jimmy Lee Lindsey, Jr. in 1980, isn't here anymore.

If he doesn't always come across as the nicest guy in this even-handed portrait—he could be a total dick—he was never a dilettante or a poseur.

Alex Hammond and Ian Markiewicz, associates of director and cinematographer Albert Maysles (Gimme Shelter), start by soliciting reminiscences from Reatard's colleagues at 2010's SXSW before backtracking to interviews and performance footage from 1999-2009, including video of a screaming, howling, short-haired teenager—more hardcore than garage-punk at that point in time. Admits Reatard, "If I wouldn't have found music, I'm sure I'd have been a petty criminal."

"I'm more like a jack-off of all trades."

By the new millennium, Reatard was still having on-stage temper tantrums and battling audience members in a series of bands: Lost Sounds, Destruction Unit, Angry Angles, and the Reatards. Shangri-La Records founder Sherman Wilmott says that he wasn't a very popular figure in Memphis. Friend Jonathan Boyd adds, "He couldn't care less if people didn't like it or didn't think it was good or worthwhile."

Other speakers: In the Red founder Larry Hardy, Goner Records co-owners Zac Ives and Eric "Oblivian" Friedl, Memphis Flyer writer Andria Lisle, Cheap Time leader Jeffrey Novak, and Wavves bassist Stephen Pope.

Despite his enfant terrible reputation, Reatard comes across as friendly and forthcoming in the latter-day interview segments. He clearly felt comfortable with the filmmakers, who hang out with him around town and at a few in-store performances (I attended one at Sonic Boom). He submits that touring tires him out and that he prefers to work on music when he's bummed out, hence the bummed-out sounds he produced.

"I know I'm not gonna be able to make records when I'm dead...it's that simple really."

Better Than Something isn't bad at all, but it never really gets to the bottom of Reatard's anger issues. He grew up poor, but his mother and sisters supported his music career, so why would he sometimes turn on trusted associates? He acknowledges a tendency to self-sabotage, but it isn't clear why. There may be no easy answers, but I wish the co-directors had tried to dig deeper. That rage lives on in Reatard's music, though, where you can tap into it at will, even if he was never able to let it go.

The duo also fails to mention when and how he passed away, though they certainly don't ignore his death. Reatard died in 2010 of a drug overdose, nine months after the interviews in the film, which reveal a cogent and healthy-looking musician. Clearly, their intent was to focus on his short, fast life rather than his seemingly sudden death, but films aren't often made about the under-30 set, and death will always define Jay Reatard. 

Better Than Something plays the Grand Illusion Cinema Mar 2-8 at 7 and 9pm (plus 5pm on Sat and Sun). No 9pm screening on Sat. The theater is located at 1403 NE 50th. For more information, click here. All images: the IMDb. Another image to come, taken by me, of Stephen Pope and Jay Reatard at Sonic Boom in Ballard. If I can find it.