Combining a film with a gig, Brighton's Levellers are currently enjoying the limelight again. Following last years' 25th anniversary celebrations, the band have just released a career retrospective and are the subject of a superb documentary, A Curious Life, which is being shown at film festivals in conjunction with a live performance, and which will be toured properly next year.  
 
It must be a bit unsettling to be the subject of a film, and certainly as far as The Levellers were concerned there were a few worries, understandably so, that this portrait may not be so flattering, or indeed any good. In fact, A Curious Life is a rather, ahem, curious mix of the unflattering and yet entertaining, enlightening and above all, sympathetic portrait of a band who unexpectedly tapped into the rising frustrations and tensions of the late 80s, as well as the ever-so-important student market, to garner a huge fan base that culminated in a headline appearance on Glastonbury's Pyramid Stage, and a number one album in 1995. And it was all largely done via hard work, word of mouth, and the building of an unusually strong umbilical chord between band, inner circle and fans that has remained largely intact after 26 years. And of course, they had the songs, many of which made the charts in the days when the charts counted for something…
 
At first, there were internal divisions when it emerged that the film director Dunstan Bruce wanted to focus primarily on founder, bassist, and songwriter Jeremy Cunningham, who for many fans is the beating heart of the band, albeit not a frontman or spokesman, but an irreplaceable part of the band's personality and character. Being a relatively democratic unit, perhaps egos and control freakery were rearing their ugly heads, but as is the way with this remarkable band, divisions were smoothed out, and Bruce – who was a member of Chumbawumba, a band cited as an influence by the band – made the film he thought would work best. And helped by Cunningham cutting an unintentionally comic figure at times, the decision seems to have been the right one, as we get to meet his entertaining parents, and follow Jeremy as he shows us his art studio, the band's archive, and the travels involved in garnering some of the source material for this film, some of which hasn't been seen before. Appropriately enough the rest of the band feature throughout, particularly the articulate Mark Chadwick and Simon Friend, as well as various key personnel such as their former label boss Derek Green, ex-manager Phil Nelson, ex-member Alan Miles, levellers producer Alan Scott, Glastonbury's Michael Eavis, and original tour manager Terry Johns.
 
A Curious Life is a very fine document of one of the most interesting and productive bands this county has ever produced. Not only did they rise to become a dominate force in music in the mid-90s, they have managed to somehow keep their underlying principles intact, have had the same line-up for all but the first two years of their existence (with the addition of a sixth member, Matt Savage, in 2002), and continue to produce high quality (and diverse) music whilst remaining an exciting proposition in the live arena, their natural environment. Bruce successfully distilled the first ten years or so of their existence into an economical 80 minute feature that is engaging from start to finish, an after warts'n'all film that interweaves personal recollections, humorous anecdotes, excellent archive footage, and the odd moment of poignancy. It's a film that should appeal to those who know little about the band, but who love good film making nevertheless.
 
Following the film, the band took to the stage to perform a semi-acoustic set of material throughout their career. "I always wanted to play on this stage," says Mark Chadwick, "I've been up on that balcony (the balcony of the cinema, which used to be a smoking zone), smoking pot…" Perhaps a little rusty when it comes to sitting down to play – as opposed to bopping and weaving as they normally do on stage – they didn't really care, as they dug out some songs they don't often play, mixing them up with old favourites such as Julie, Carry Me and One Way, which featured as always the didgeridoo of Stephen Boakes. From the opener Truth Is ('Go on and speak your mind/ Let's find out what it is you have to say'), a highlight of their most recent album, Static on the Airwaves, to Together All The Way from their first album – A Weapon called The Word – to The Prisoner (a song by Levellers offshoot Drunk in Public), a cover of the Steeleye Span favourite Lowlands and raucous versions of What You Know and Rev Hammer's Burford Stomp and, this was, as always, a joyous occasion; the audience largely unable to contain themselves. By the end almost everyone was standing up and joining in the celebratory sentiments of One Way: 'There's only one way of life, and that's your own'.
 
Jeff Hemmings
 
Website: levellers.co.uk