Ray Davies at the British Film Institute

This afternoon we went to our final Meltdown events, both at the British Film Institute (the National Film Theatre to you and me) and both featuring Ray Davies.

First up was a talk between Ray and Julien Temple about the films that influenced Ray and his songwriting. It was a mixture of chat, anecdotes and film trailers from a '50s Italian film about a stolen bicycle to the late '60s 'Performance'. There was a fair sprinkling of European 'art' films but the ones I enjoyed seeing trailers for were closer to home - 'Passport To Pimlico', 'The Ladykillers', 'The Vikings' and 'Carry On Cleo' (I've never seen any of those on the big screen).

Ray told us how he first started seeing films when his sisters took him to the local cinemas as their chaperone on dates with boyfriends, and then he started going himself. He and a friend set up a film club at art school and even tried their hand at making an 'art' movie on Hampstead Heath. He said he liked watching the old films since you could see things and buildings that simply aren't there anymore, such as almost all of Pimlico having been re-developed since the film.

The last two films talked about were 'Blow-Up' and 'Performance', both swinging '60s films and both of which Ray dismissed as being after the 'revolution' (such as it was) was over. He said the 'revolution' was over by 1965, after which the old guard and America started grabbing it back from British youth culture. Throughout the discussion he was very conscious of class and his working class background. He commented at one point that his father was slightly to the left of communists. He seems to have seen the '60s as a time of breaking down class barriers for a short time before they reasserted themselves again in slightly different form. I've never thought of Ray as a class warrior before, so maybe I need to listen to some of his lyrics again. He also commented that 'Dedicated Follower Of Fashion' was his angriest song yet it made people laugh and smile, so people hear what they want to hear.

He returned a few times to 'Performance', which he's never seen, and Mick Jaggers' (ahem) performance. He said he though Mick should have stuck to acting, which the audience took as a dig, until he said he thought Mick would've been an excellent Fitzcarraldo in the Herzog film of the same name. I didn't mind since I think I heard a bit of 'Dyed Dead Red' by Buffy Sainte-Marie in the film trailer.

The talk began with a re-edited video by Julien Temple for 'You Really Got Me', which was excellent, and ended with the full video for 'Come Dancing' which I've never seen before. Just before then one of the questions from the audience was about the future of the 'Come Dancing' stage musical (which I loved) and it seems that Ray hasn't given up on it yet. There may be more to come.

The second event of the evening was a screening of two of Ray's television performances from the early '70s, a BBC Play For Today, 'The Long Distance Piano Player' from 1970 and Granada's 'Starmaker' from 1974. At this point I need to get something off my chest - I hate Play for Today. My abiding memory of the endless Plays for Today that I saw were that they were all incredibly earnest, serious and endlessly dull. All of them. Every single last one of them. Well, there might have been *one* sparkly one but I didn't see it. Why my parents watched them - and therefore I watched them - is a mystery...

'The Long Distance Piano Player' started life as 'Marathon Man' and is, how should I put this? Tripe. Absolute and undiluted tripe. It's in black and white (for which read various shades of grey), small and claustrophobic (like all Plays for Today), set in a stereotypical northern town with northern accents (apart from Ray, of course). He's a piano player who, for some obscure reason is playing non-stop for four days in a village hall and somehow this will get him bookings to play big shows in America. Right. So that's how to break America. Easy-peasy.

In his introduction to the screening he apologised for his acting (his first proper acting job) but I'd say to Ray - stop apologising, all the acting in that play was awful. As was the script, the lighting and the filming. I cringed. It was awful. I covered my eyes a few times to avoid watching it. The basic idea is obviously based on the book behind 'They Shoot Horses Don't They' but whoever thought the sound of increasingly bad piano playing throughout the play would be a selling point needs a new job. Let's move on...

Next up was the shorter play for Granada, 'Starmaker' from 1974, in colour and Ray in full Gary Glitter glitter suit and platform shoes. I loved this play, written by Ray with songs that went on to become the basis for the 'Soap Opera' album. Ray starts off as a rock star and ends up as an accountant in a pin-stripe suit. It's very clever and manipulative and it's great to see the original play it all came from.

This play was far better that the 'Piano Player', probably because Ray knows his own strengths and wrote to them. It's also a far more interesting idea, more creative and experimental (it experimented with the idea of reality TV before anyone had invented the term). Unfortunately for Ray it documents him stripping down to his skimpy paisley boxers and donning a one-piece three-piece suit (you have to see it to believe it). He's still as thin as he was back then. Of the two plays, Ray's 'Starmaker' is far superior.

Just as the talk ended with the 'Come Dancing' video, here it is for you as well, an excellent song and an excellent stage-show that I hope I'll see again.



And with that, I bid farewell to Ray's Meltdown. I think it closes tomorrow with another show from Ray with an orchestra and the Crouch End Chorus, but I'll be elsewhere. I've enjoyed the shows I've seen. Wonder who will curate next year?