BLACK LEATHER JACKET

 

Astride my first Honda CX500 motorbike during the early 1990s and  wearing my self-customised black leather jacket (BLJ) that was officially displayed at the Walsall Leather Museum's BLJ Exhibition in autumn 1993, and which was also featured in Mike Phillips's article 'Black Art', on the subject of the BLJ, published by the British monthly motorbike magazine Bike in its October 1993 issue (© Dr Karl Shuker)

 

It's been quite a while since this blog last journeyed there from MovieLand, so it's high time that I crossed the border once again to pay another of my occasional visits to TV Land – and for what better reason than to indulge my lifelong passion for all things appertaining to motorbikes, via my recalling here today a very memorable 1980s TV docu-movie that led to one of my very own motorbike jackets becoming both a star exhibit and a media star!

 

  

Full cover of my official sell-thru VHS video of Black Leather Jacket (© Nick Mead/Paul Cowan/Mick Farren/Channel 4 Television Corporation/Polygram Music Video – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

As a biker ever since my late teens in the 1970s, my habitual and favourite garment of choice to wear has always been the classic black leather jacket, of the motorbike style beloved by bona fide, would-be, and on-screen bikers alike, not to mention rock stars, fashion models, punks, and rebels of every shape, size, and description.

So when while browsing in a bookshop one Sunday afternoon during the mid-1980s in the Warwickshire, England, town of Stratford-upon-Avon, world-famous as the birthplace of one William Shakespeare, I chanced upon a fairly large brand-new hardback book entitled The Black Leather Jacket, sporting an embossed, textured front cover designed to look and even feel like the real thing, and documenting the fascinating history of this truly iconic item of clothing, I lost no time whatsoever in purchasing it and reading it from cover to cover as soon as I arrived back home.

Written by English journalist Mick Farren and first published in 1985, this engrossing book reveals and extensively illustrates via a comprehensive selection of very distinctive glossy b/w photographs how its titular subject, the black leather jacket (or the BLJ, as I'll refer to it hereafter for convenience), has evolved and diversified since its origin during the early years of the 20^th Century.

The BLJ's progress is succinctly chronicled from the standard unadorned predecessors worn by the likes of WW1 fighter pilots and the Gestapo of WW2, through the classic 1950s Brando/Dean rebel styles, plus all manner of self-customised be-studded and badged-to-the-hilt individualized versions worn by outlaw bikers and 1960s rockers/greasers, to the slashed and safety-pinned punk gear of the 1970s, and the somewhat emasculated 1980s fashionista formats more at home on the catwalk than the highway, as well as every conceivable variation in between. So too is its enduring intrinsic appeal, traditionally daring, dark, even dangerous, regardless of its ever-changing external form. But that's not all.

 

The front cover of the original hardback First Edition of Mick Farren's book The Black Leather Jacket that I still own today (© Mick Farren/Plexus Publishing – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

In 1988, Channel 4, a terrestrial TV station in the UK, produced and screened a 60-minute docu-movie directly inspired by Mick Farren's book but simply entitled Black Leather Jacket (i.e. no The). It was directed by Nick Mead, co-written by him with Farren, and produced by Paul Cowan. Narrated by big-screen bad boy Dennis Hopper of Easy Rider fame, Black Leather Jacket stayed faithful to the contents of Farren's book but also featured clips from a number of classic movies relating in some way to the BLJ and motorbikes (such as the cult 1970s British biker/horror movie Psychomania, which I've reviewed here).

Moreover, it contained an excellent rock soundtrack too, including contributions from famous BLJ-wearing performers such as Elvis Presley, The Clash, Gun, L.A. Guns, Zodiac Mindwarp (remember them?), Velvet Underground, Kiss, and Motorhead – whose song 'Black Leather Jacket' was used as this documentary movie's title song, accompanying clips of a teenage BLJ/Levis-wearing Michael Vartan (in his on-screen debut) riding a Harley through a neon-lit city centre at night and duly dubbed Motorcycle Boy in the credits.

Knowing full well that I would definitely enjoy Black Leather Jacket just as much as I'd done with the original book, I had the foresight to video-record it for future re-watchings at home, which was just as well, because I never remember it being re-screened. Tragically, however, as was so often the case with all but the highest-quality recordable blank videocassettes available back then, the picture quality of my precious recording of it diminished with repeated viewings down through the years.

Imagine my surprise but delight, then, when just over a year ago I discovered not only that Black Leather Jacket had actually been released as an official sell-thru video but also that there was a single example of it listed at that very same time on ebay, on a Buy It Now basis. So that's what I did, and just a few days later I was able to watch and enjoy it in its original top-quality viewing state all over again. But that's still not all.

Just a few miles from where I live in the West Midlands, England, is the prestigious Walsall Leather Museum, devoted to the history of the town of Walsall's long-established leather trade and manufacturing, and during summer 1993 I learnt from a friend who worked there that they were planning to stage a temporary public exhibition devoted exclusively to the BLJ!

 

Mini-poster produced by the Walsall Leather Museum advertising its BLJ Exhibition (© Walsall Leather Museum – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

As a local biker who had painstakingly customized several of my motorbike BLJs in the classic 1960s rocker/greaser style (having been inspired to do so after seeing and admiring original examples worn by various bikers featured in clips from Black Leather Jacket of London's famous biker/rocker-associated Ace Cafe and 59 Club during that decade), it occurred to me that the Museum may perhaps be interested in including one of them in their exhibition as a representation of that particular BLJ genre. So one afternoon shortly after learning about their plans, I rode there on my motorbike wearing one of them – and was delighted when they were indeed very keen to exhibit it!

 

My official invitation to the preview of the Walsall Leather Museum's BLJ Exhibition in autumn 1993 (© Dr Karl Shuker/Walsall Leather Museum – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

The Walsall Leather Museum's 'The Black Leather Jacket' Exhibition ran from 4 September to 14 November 1993 inclusive, but I was invited with other contributors to an exclusive preview, and when I turned up on my motorbike (wearing a different BLJ), there on display in a tall glass showcase was my very own jacket, fully labeled and fully visible from all angles. If pride is a sin, then I sinned very extensively that day!

 

The official b/w photograph of me wearing my exhibited BLJ that appeared alongside my jacket's showcase in the Walsall Leather Museum's BLJ Exhibition, and which also appeared in Mike Phillips's article 'Black Art', on the subject of the BLJ, published by the British monthly motorbike magazine Bike in its October 1993 issue (© Walsall Leather Museum (photographer unknown to me) – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

Moreover, perhaps because of how eyecatching it was, bristling all over with badges, studs, chains, and above all else its full official Easyriders back patch, it was my BLJ that attracted much of the media attention relating to the Museum's BLJ Exhibition.

 

Report from The Observer (London) for 5 September 1993 re the Walsall Leather Museum's BLJ Exhibition, and including a close-up photo of my exhibited BLJ – please click to enlarge for reading purposes (© The Observer/Guardian Media Group – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

It was pictured in a number of newspaper reports (including one by none other than London's eminent weekly broadsheet The Observer, the world's oldest Sunday newspaper, founded in 1791, and in which I am referred to as "a local biker with a vivid sense of design" - love it!), as well as in a special BLJ article entitled 'Black Art' authored by motorbike journalist Mike Phillips and published in the October 1993 issue of Bike, Britain's best-selling motorbike magazine.

 

Birmingham Post newspaper's 2-page magazine supplement report for 29 September 1993 re the Walsall Leather Museum's BLJ Exhibition, which includes a name-check and quote from me (arrowed in red) on p.4 and a picture of a model wearing my exhibited BLJ on p. 5 – please click to enlarge for reading purposes (© Birmingham Post/Reach plc – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

My exhibited BLJ also featured in two local TV news reports, and in one of them it was even worn by Midlands Today presenter Richard Ulridge while sitting astride a motorbike and then riding off on it, with my BLJ's Easyrider back patch fully displayed (click here to view both of these TV news reports – and my BLJ! – on YouTube).

 

Photo-still from the Midlands Today news report re the Walsall Leather Museum's BLJ Exhibition depicting presenter Richard Ulridge wearing my exhibited BLJ (© Dr Karl Shuker/Midlands Today – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

If you'd like to watch Black Leather Jacket, most of it can currently be viewed free of charge on YouTube, where it has been uploaded in nine parts (but, oddly, Part 3 is seemingly missing), though the resolution quality is not great. Click here to begin viewing with Part 1.

Finally: To view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film/TV reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.

 

Photo-still from the Midlands Today news report re the Walsall Leather Museum's BLJ Exhibition depicting the back of my exhibited BLJ as worn by presenter Richard Ulridge (© Dr Karl Shuker/Midlands Today – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

 

PSYCHOMANIA (aka THE DEATH WHEELERS)

 

The official American DVD of Psychomania (© Don Sharp/Benmar Productions/Scotia-Barber Distributors/Severin Films – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational/review purposes only)

On 26 June 2021, I finally ticked off another entry on my long list of cult movies that I've always meant to watch but never got around to doing so. For the movie that I'd just watched was none other than Psychomania.

Directed by Don Sharp, and released by Scotia-Barber in 1973 (retitled as The Death Wheelers in the USA), Psychomania is an (in)famously crazy UK comedy/horror film that created quite a stir back in the day, due to what was then considered by some to be its controversial  storyline and casual depiction of anarchy. Nowadays, however, it is probably best remembered from a cinematic history point of view for being the last film in which George Sanders appeared before tragically taking his own life.

Psychomania's lead star is the late great Nicky Henson as Tom Latham, the ton-up, leathered-up leader of a violent biker gang called The Living Dead, who decides that they should take their name literally. So, having tricked his occultist mother (played by Beryl Reid) and toad-worshipping butler Shadwell (Sanders) into blabbing the secret of how to come back from the dead and live forever, Tom and his gang duly do so – following the minor inconvenience, that is, of having to render themselves deceased in the first place! This latter requirement features some scenes of a darker shade of black humour as each member in turn carries out a different method of dispatching himself or herself. Each member, that is, except for Abby (Mary Larkin), Tom's adoring girlfriend, who, to the disgust of the others, including Tom himself, decides that she actually enjoys living and has no wish to end her life in order to come back.

Abby notwithstanding, once immortal, Tom and the rest of the gang are free to terrorise and murder the local populace and police at will (the latter includes a somewhat pompous, self-regarding, but ultimately ineffectual chief inspector played by Robert Hardy), safe in the knowledge that nothing or no-one can harm them or stop them – or so they think. Unfortunately for them, however, Tom's mother knows differently, and albeit at great sacrifice to herself she decides to put a stop to their evil games, permanently. Let's just say that the climactic scene is petrifying - in every sense!

Whereas that scene is undeniably eerie, unsettling even, it does provide a very appropriate, memorable ending to the movie. In contrast, there is one scene that in my opinion is unnecessarily disturbing, and which for me definitely crossed the threshold between tongue-in-cheek comedy/horror and true horror.

That was when, following their coming back from the dead, the gang ride their motorbikes through a large store, creating havoc as they deliberately knock over displays, shattering glass and sending produce spilling in all directions – and, while doing so, sadistic female biker Jane Pettibone (Anne Michelle) sees a young woman pushing a pram with a baby inside, upon which she rides directly at them, causing the woman to fall over and the pram to career wildly before it too tumbles over. Mercifully, the fate of the poor baby inside it is not shown, but, like I say, this for me came across as truly disturbing, staying in my mind long after the movie had ended, yet adding nothing of worth to it, at least as far as I was concerned.

Psychomania was filmed in and around Shepperton Studios in Surrey, southern England. An integral aspect of this movie is a circle of standing stones named the Seven Witches, where the gang congregate, and within whose circle Tom is buried by them, sitting upright in full leathers and helmet astride his motorbike, only for him subsequently to burst up out of the ground riding it when he comes back from the dead, running down a startled walker in the process – the first of his several victims. Interestingly, although the stones were fictitious, following the film's release the location in Surrey where they were supposed to be as portrayed in it was visited by a number of fans in the hope of seeing them. The magic of the movies!

Psychomania is undoubtedly one of the all-out weirdest films that I have ever seen, and my compliments to Henson, Reid, Sanders et al., for so admirably keeping straight faces throughout it all (though I strongly suspect that there was plenty of corpsing amid the cutting-room floor's discarded footage!). But by the same token it is thoroughly engrossing, and if you're also a fan of late 60s/early 70s British motorbikes (especially BSAs), you're in for a rare old treat (apparently Henson signed his contract to star in it on the promise that the motorbikes to be ridden in it by him and the others would be Harley-Davidsons!). Moreover, by being so heavily and obviously tongue-in-cheek, as well as being entirely free of gore and true horror (aside from the pram scene), Psychomania can be readily enjoyed as a guilty pleasure.

Indeed, today it has achieved the status of a cult movie, albeit due in no small way to its iconic soundtrack, composed by John Cameron, mixing ethereal and psychedelic themes to notable effect, and including a very Woodstockian hippy-style ballad entitled 'Riding Free'. Sung by Harvey Andrews (but mimed by Miles Greenwood as gang member Chopped Meat in the movie), it is performed during Tom's funeral (click here to view this segment from the movie).

If you'd like to put my statement regarding Psychomania being a guilty pleasure to the test, this wonderfully mad movie can currently be viewed in its entirety for free on YouTube (just click here), or if you'd like a preview, click here to view an official trailer for it.

To view a complete chronological listing of all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog's other film reviews and articles (each one instantly accessible via a direct clickable link), please click HERE, and please click HERE to view a complete fully-clickable alphabetical listing of them.