Shirley Jackson is slam dancing in her grave because of all the fun to be had in the awesome documentary Punk Rock Lottery, written and directed by Jacob Miguel. It centers around the Punk Rock Lottery, an underground contest held every year by what is left of the weird community in Austin, Texas. It was the mutant brainchild of the competition’s founders, Trae Martinez and Ivy Reed, originally slapped together as something to do on Martinez’s birthday.
Several Austin musicians’ names are drawn from a hat to form punk bands at random. Those bands then have a month to come up with a name, a logo, and an original set with a cover song. They then perform in a showcase at the Sidewinder, with trophies handed out to the top two bands as well as one for last place.
Lots of creativity is on display, as well as what happens when you mix alcohol with costumes. Many bands try to score extra points by blatantly paying tribute to Martinez and his birthday, which seems to help a little. Some go as far as to create merchandise to hand out for free at the show, which is remarkable for bands that didn’t exist a minute ago and will break up after one performance.
“Several Austin musicians’ names are drawn from a hat to form punk bands at random.”
Miguel also goes down to the safety-pinned roots of punk in the Texas capital. Elders of the Austin scene are interviewed by Miguel, including SXSW co-founder Louis Black and Tim Kerr, the guitarist for Austin punk legends The Big Boys. The late Tom Huckabee, an Austin musician and filmmaker who collaborated with Bill Paxton, is interviewed about the Huns show where he was beaten and arrested onstage by a cop.
The story ran in Rolling Stone, putting the first national spotlight on the Texas punk scene. Director Miguel also puts some skin in the game by putting his name in the hat, showing you’ve got to be in it to blast it to pieces.
Punk Rock Lottery is the spiritual successor to Todd Phillips’ Frat House, as both films feature the filmmakers participating in the grotesque hijinks they are documenting. Like that classic documentary, Miguel’s decision to embed himself among the swirling chaos instead of merely observing it displays the metal-spiked maverick streak of true renegade cinema.
The film opens with a bang, with the fast music and punk imagery combining into an edgy collage reminiscent of the punk flyers that used to cover the utility poles off the drag. I was impressed by how well the old school of Austin punk was represented, but even more impressed by how Miguel shows love for the new school in a way that’s palatable.
"…displays the metal spiked maverick streak of true renegade cinema..."
