What We Do is Secret

The '70s marked the birth of punk, and towards the end of the decade, what emerged was harder, faster, and raunchier than early punk bands like New York Dolls (who could arguably be called glam), The Damned, and the Ramones. Out of the West Coast arose hardcore acts like Black Flag, X, The Circle Jerks, and Dead Kennedys. One of the most influential was The Germs, a band notoriously banned for its riot-inciting shows and the antics of its lead singer and founder, Darby Crash. Regardless, the LA Times once called their (GI) record "the most important album to come out of Los Angeles since The Doors' LA Woman."

What We Do Is Secret, directed by Rodger Grossman, explores the band's tumultuous, short-lived career and that of the tormented Crash. The film opens with a documentary-style interview with Crash, played by Shane West, discussing his Circle One philosophy. The circle imagery is a reoccurring theme in What We Do — the blue circle on the cover of the Germs' (GI) album and their fans' armbands, the ritualistic cigarette burns Darby gives his female fans (a cult-like group who also called themselves Circle One), and of course, life and death, ouroboros-style. In reality, Crash's own "life circle" ended by a drug-induced suicide on December 7th, 1980, which was overshadowed by John Lennon's murder the next day.

West remarkably channels Darby Crash's self-destructive streak, onstage energy, and sexual ambiguity — it's insinuated in the movie, as well as Crash's biography Lexicon Devil, that Darby was in the closet. A subtle fondness, tender and potentially sexual, emerges on screen between Crash and a male friend; nothing sexual is exchanged, but the body language and energy between the actors communicate what is not spoken. His relationship with women is equally conflicted; his friendship with Lorna Doom (Bijou Philips) shows him as misleadingly seductive with the interested girl, to say nothing of his cult of Circle One fans.

The aptly-named Crash is played to a tee by West; in fact, his performance was so believable that he's currently on tour with the reformed Germs as the lead singer. Rick Gonzalez, who portrays Crash's friend and legendary guitarist Pat Smear, and celebrity wild child Bijou Phillips, who plays bassist Lorna Doom, are also snug and genuine in their performances. Though Gonzalez's character is part of a premier hardcore band, there's a rational humility that comes through on screen, while Phillips communicates an unabashed, hyper-cool, dream-like persona that's appropriate for the role of Doom.

For the most part, biopics can be depressing in the same sense that the work of some artists are worth more post-mortem than when the artist is alive. Additionally, we already know what happens in the end, unfortunately. Similar tales have been told, but the dark elements like those in this film, reinforce the perversely romantic idea — even before Kurt Cobain's time — that it is better to "burn out than to fade away." We've heard the rock version, but this time it's sex, drugs and punk. His life, despite its brevity, was as intense as its abrupt ending, and for that alone, it's worth watching.