‘I Am Weekender’: Glasgow Review

Dir: Chloe Raunet. UK. 2023. 72mins

English band Flowered Up may have been formed in London, but their indie dance sound was firmly in the Madchester mode of The Happy Mondays and The Stone Roses. Although less well known than their northern cousins, Flowered Up has achieved cult status in certain circles thanks to the 13-minute track ’Weekender’. That status is largely due to the video that was made to accompany it containing an unvarnished depiction of the early 90s rave scene, complete with drug taking, which earned it an 18 certificate and saw it banned by both the BBC and ITV.

The film is carried a long way on the positive vibe of the contributors and the edgy energy of the archive footage

The music video, directed by WIZ – aka Andrew Whiston, who also co-produced this documentary – can be seen in full at the end of Chloe Raunet’s niche debut feature. She aims to explore the history of the band and the video and its enduring influence, although she is more successful at the first two of these objectives. I Am Weekender is set to be released by the BFI after its world premiere at Glasgow Film Festival, and will appeal chiefly and possibly only to those who were part of the late-80s/early-90s dance scene in the UK.

Raunet has access restored rushes from WIZ’s video  – which charts a window cleaner’s weekend escape to a rave and later comedown – and excerpts from his personal archive. With her editing hat on, she interweaves these with Zoom interviews with some of those involved and others who cite its impact and influence, against a soundtrack of music from the era including Flowered Up, Eagles Prey and New Fast Automatic Daffodils. The film is carried a long way on the positive vibe of the contributors and the edgy energy of the archive footage, even if the documentary structure and the nature of the Zoom interview talking heads is a bit rough and ready.

Among those interviewed are Flowered Up’s manager Des Penney, and band members John Tuvey, Tim Dorney and the fabulously named Barry Mooncult, who notes: “My role, more or less, was to cause as much chaos as I can”. They appear alongside the likes of Moloko’s Roisin Murphy, Primal Scream’s Bobby Gillespie, Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh and We Need To Talk About Kevin director Lynne Ramsay. 

Near the start of the Raunet’s film Welsh notes that ’Weekender’ “is an important cultural artefact”, although it takes a while for the documentarian to get around to why that might be. She takes a chronological approach, first letting her talking heads explain the origins of the band fronted by Liam Maher, who died from a heroin overdose in 2009. (Maher’s brother Joe was also in the group, and also died of an overdose in 2012.) While this early portion is highly detailed, charting the group’s rise and label move, it feels more aimed at fans than casual viewers. From there, it opens out into a wider, more accessible, consideration of the sociopolitics of Thatcher’s Britain against the optimism of the dance culture of the period, before turning to ’Weekender’ itself.

Once the subject of WIZ’s film is reached, interviews from actors Anna Haigh and Lee Whitlock – who sadly died from cancer in February – also prove engaging and informative as the pair talk about their involvement with the film and reflect on the specifics of shooting it. Revelations include the fact they used actual amyl nitrate during the club scene – until it all got a bit too much – not to mention Whitlock’s fear of being in the window cleaner’s cradle. WIZ himself is conspiciously absent from these reminscences, which feels like an odd choice. It’s also a shame they couldn’t get hold of director Danny Boyle, since an initial intertitle informs claims he “once said there wouldn’t be a Trainspotting if it wasn’t for this groundbreaking document of youth culture”.

Later in the film, a contributor says it “changed the way we started portraying drugs and culture in movies”. This element of Raunet’s film is nodded to rather than explored, although Skins director Adam Smith does cite it as an influence on his work. This is an uneven survey, but Raunet succeeds in bringing home the way WIZ’s film captured an era, warts and all, and the emotional impact it had on those who saw their lives reflected within it.