Turn it Around: The Story of East Bay Punk (2017)

DIRECTOR – Corbett Redford

STARS — Iggy Pop, Billie Joe Armstrong, Kathleen Hanna, Mike Dirnt, Duff McKagan, Tim Armstrong

RUNTIME – 155 minutes

Punk rock is a virus. Once infected, the host is reshaped and rearranged to become its conduit, and, with any luck, will go on to infect others in turn. Spread from one body to the next, punk is ceaseless in its assault on status quo sensibilities, respect for authority, and the very idea that permission is required to create, to build, and to thrive. Do it yourself, because if not you, then who the fuck else will?

In September 2013, director Corbet Redford (of novelty folk act Bobby Joe Ebola and the Children MacNuggits, 2005’s indie feature-length Neptune, and an uncredited role in 2007’s Milk starring Sean Penn) was tasked with providing archival footage for punk rock’s most infectious band, Green Day. What resulted was three-and-a-half years’ worth of work that resulted in Turn it Around: The Story of East Bay Punk.

Opening with music from East Bay stalwarts Crimpshrine, set to animatics of artist Jesse Michaels’ various drawings, helmed by animation director Tim Armstrong, the documentary chronicles the burgeoning Berkley, CA punk scene, from its cultural origins in the free love hippie movement of the late-60s, to the punk explosion of the late-70s and hardcore early-80s, all the way to the time of the film’s release in 2017. 

Nothing short of dense history, Redford gleans stories of the early days of the 924 Gilman Street scene from members of Neurosis, Dead Kennedys, Isocracy, Bad Religion, Rancid, L7, NOFX, Jawbreaker, Fugazi, Mr. T Experience, Angry Samoans, Spitboy, The Lookouts, and, of course, Green Day, into how they not only helped shape a community in a disparate collective of distinctly not-San Francisco-based bands, but to spread the virus of punk rock to the world at large.

Narrated by none other than the godfather of punk himself, Iggy Pop, the film (which clocks in at two hours and thirty-five minutes) dives deep into what started as a desire to create a home for those who felt left out of the wider conversation around music, politics, and art, and leaves open-ended with a sense of hope and continuation. Alongside the various narratives about how anyone with as much as an idea can share their heart with the world, the film brings forth the sense that, layer-upon-layer, anyone can make the most out of their surroundings by simply creating, and encouraging others to do the same.

Ultimately, the story surrounding Turn it Around is that of the Gilman Street Project, otherwise known by its location at 924 Gilman Street in Berkley, CA. From its surprisingly auspicious beginnings in 1986 (as the film reveals), this center for alternative expression is the hub for not only the film’s subjects, but the director himself. Hailing from Pinole, CA, Redford found himself at the epicenter of a cultural renaissance in his teenage years, forming relationships with many of the actors surrounding the Gilman Street Project from as early as fourteen years old. In press interviews, Redford recounts how Green Day bassist Mike Dirnt stood up for him on his first day of high school, rescuing his backpack from the underside of a set of bleachers that had been thrown there by a pair of bullies. Thus began a lifelong relationship for Redford, not simply with a band who at the time were called Sweet Children, but with punk rock in general. He’d been infected.

When Dirnt, Armstrong, and Cool (né Wright) initially approached Redford with the idea to make a film about the early days of Green Day, he made no hesitation about directing the film. According to interviews (and I’m paraphrasing here), when asked, “Do you know anyone who could make this movie?” Redford responded, “I will.” That’s DIY in a nutshell.

Wading through approximately thirty-five hundred photos and flyers, one thousand archival video clips, and five hundred hours of interview footage, Redford set to work on his directorial debut. Enlisting the help of his fellow East Bay punks, such as photographer Anthony Marchitiello, zinester Aaron Cometbus, fellow bandmember Dan Abbot, and archivist Robert Eggplant (to name a few), what culminates is a rich and electrifying scope into the past of 924 Gilman, while simultaneously focusing a lens on what can be made, and what can be done, right here, right now.

Of course, the film is not without its flaws, a fact which should not simply be noted, but rather celebrated. Scene transitions can sometimes be jarring, jumping from one story to another with little-to-no lead-in, and the fact that the members of Green Day executive produced the documentary means there is a solid chunk in the third act devoted to the band. Nevertheless, it is an exhilarating look into the birth of something we, as punks, can all be proud of: a place, a name, and an outlet for sharing joy, ideas, attitudes, community, and the virus that is punk rock. 

Originally published on RubberRecords.com, April 2020