‘Boy George & Culture Club’ Review: An Affectionate Look at the ’80s Band and Its Flamboyant Frontman That Entertains but Treads Too Carefully

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In the past few weeks, an insightful article on cultural critique entitled “Could Celebrity-Driven Films and Music be Stifling Documentaries?” was released by The Hollywood Reporter. The piece discusses how prominent streaming platforms are impacting nonfiction filmmaking. Instead of fostering originality and in-depth exploration, they seem to favor authorized documentaries that primarily serve as advertising, brand management, and fan engagement. Alison Ellwood’s Boy George & Culture Club, for instance, is a representative example of this trend. Although it offers candor, it rarely delves into fresh perspectives, much like one of Boy George’s catchy tunes but lacking in depth.

Undoubtedly, those who cherish their nostalgia for Culture Club’s peak period will find themselves instantly captivated as soon as the harmonica kicks off the intro of “Church of the Poison Mind,” a tune that remains one of the most infectiously catchy hits from the ’80s. This lively rendition, featuring in a live performance, brilliantly highlights Helen Terry’s powerful backup vocals.

The tune serves as a refreshing nod to the fact that although the group famously led by Boy George is known for its unconventional style, which originated from the New Romantic movement, their musical inspirations ranged widely – encompassing blue-eyed soul, reggae, Motown, calypso, and even a hint of country in “Karma Chameleon.

Despite each band member sharing their thoughts individually in current interviews, the documentary lacks depth about how the music was created collectively. The movie suggests that George was responsible for the lyrics, which are often displayed using bright ’80s-inspired graphics reminiscent of Culture Club album covers, while the actual tunes seemed to magically appear when they gathered in the recording studio.

Certainly, there’s an undeniable charm in the enchanting blend of diversity that characterizes pop bands like Culture Club. The band’s name itself is symbolic of their unique composition: a lead vocalist who is gay and Irish; a Black Jamaican Brit bassist (Mikey Craig); a blonde English guitarist (Roy Hay); and a Jewish drummer with punk roots (Jon Moss).

In simpler terms, Culture Club’s magic lies in their diverse lineup, which includes a gay lead singer, a Black bassist from Britain, a blonde guitarist from England, and a Jewish drummer who comes from a punk background.

It’s possible that one explanation for why each of the four members were interviewed individually is because, despite not officially disbanding in 1986 and still touring intermittently for three decades, as well as working on personal projects, George’s dominating personality and rebellious image seemed to cast a long shadow over his bandmates and their music. This shadow often overshadowed even his exceptional vocal abilities, and it appears that this sensitive issue has largely gone unspoken.

In the music video shoot for “Karma Chameleon” on a Mississippi riverboat, featuring Mikey, Roy, and Jon in 19th-century Southern gentleman attire, visibly uncomfortable, symbolizes a significant divide. Subsequently, during the wildly extravagant video for the uncommon ballad “Mistake No. 3,” which George referred to as “the pinnacle of our excess,” Hay comments: “We were just like George’s dolled-up toys.” However, it’s challenging to view George as thoughtless given his humorous perspective on these events later. “Oh yes, I suppose the others felt like they were part of a gay circus,” he quips with a laugh.

There’s a lot of humor in personal reflections about their most popular hit, “Karma Chameleon.” Roy remarks, “I believe we lost quite a bit of credibility with ‘Karma Chameleon’,” but it’s the song that people remember us for.” George chimes in, “People claim it sealed our uncool fate. However, we were never cool! That song reached No. 1 and stayed there for weeks, driving everyone crazy.

George openly admits his leading position within the group, but seems to downplay any potential discontent among fellow members. He often appears charming and humorous, displaying narcissistic tendencies, a dash of diva attitude, and an unyielding sharpness when confronted. However, it’s important to note that his soulful voice and striking appearance played significant roles in the band’s 1982 success with the reggae-influenced single “Do You Really Want To Hurt Me.” Furthermore, none of George’s bandmates dispute his role as their primary fame catalyst.

It’s intriguing to follow George O’Dowd’s journey from a working-class youth to the iconic figure known as Boy George. In just half a year, he transitioned from sporting a punky blonde hairstyle in his teenage years to embracing full drag. His transformation was greatly influenced by the rise of David Bowie and Marc Bolan, and he often speaks about makeup as a means of liberation. He drew inspiration for his cascading dreadlocks from Siouxsie Sioux, Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex, and Ari Up from the Slits.

With his oversized straw hats, bold makeup, and vibrant muumuus, George stood out prominently. Initially, the media tiptoed around the subject of his sexuality, but he was uninterested in any attempts to assign a political viewpoint to his androgynous image. In an old interview from the early days, he admitted that their music and fashion weren’t meant to convey any specific message.

From my perspective as a passionate admirer, Ellwood’s documentary, while addressing crucial themes like LGBTQ representation, homophobia, and hypocrisy, seems to lack sufficient background or comprehensive viewpoint to enlighten fully. It feels odd, for example, that a film tackling these topics in the early ’80s fails to explore how the AIDS crisis could have influenced the negative responses it portrays. I can’t help but wonder why this crucial historical context was overlooked.

The band had achieved its peak, drawing Beatlemania-like audiences in Australia and Canada, and making substantial headway in the American market. However, it was in the U.S. where negative sentiments towards homosexuality gained momentum following George’s 1984 Grammy Awards speech. Culture Club won for best new artist, to which he said, “Thank you, America. You’ve got good taste, style, and you know a good drag queen when you see one.” This statement fueled the growing disapproval in the country.

Forty years on, it’s hard to believe that George identifying as a drag queen would stir such shock and outrage (if not for the strong influence of American neo-conservatism). However, he found more amusement than dismay when the moral guardians started organizing anti-LGBTQ protests at concert venues.

In a playful manner, Moss shares an amusing incident where he conversed with a fan from Kansas who echoed a commonly used and offensive phrase, “God Hates Fags.” When Moss questioned if this individual would attend the event, they responded positively, saying, “Oh yeah, we’re fans of Boy George.” On The Tonight Show Starring Carson, George highlights the paradox of being viewed as controversial in a nation that embraced Liberace.

The main emotional narrative in the film revolves around the bond between George and Jon. While George claims it was instant love for him, Moss, who hadn’t previously been romantically involved with a man, admits to being deeply smitten, feeling both puzzled and thrilled. Craig expresses doubts about their relationship affecting the band’s stability. However, by the time he expressed his worries, Moss had already asserted that it was too late since they had already shared an intimate moment together.

George remarked that they were like John Lennon and Yoko Ono within their band for a spell, referring to the resentment from the other members. Initially, their open affection was commonplace, but once they achieved their first hit, it ceased due to worries that revealing their relationship could jeopardize the band. However, the documentary does not definitively determine the extent to which homophobia contributed to the backlash or poor reviews of Culture Club’s third album, Waking Up With the House on Fire.

(Here I tried to rephrase it in a more conversational and straightforward manner while maintaining the original meaning and structure.)

During that period, I resided in London. It’s worth mentioning that I had long held the belief that George’s sexuality and his romantic involvement with Jon, a notable figure within the LGBTQ+ community, were matters of public knowledge.

Moss reflects on their past relationship as true love and discusses the difficult steps taken to leave it for his own safety, while George expresses a less certain view, but with sadness. It seems that George’s struggle with drug abuse, quickly escalating from marijuana to heroin within just a few weeks, played a significant role in their breakup.

The document is straightforward about that difficult phase and George’s unpredictable actions when he started socializing and abusing substances with the 80s Brit-pop star Marilyn who identifies as genderqueer. As a result, George’s drug problems became a topic of public interest, with Rupert Murdoch’s newspaper, The Sun, even forecasting his death before the year ended.

Craig and Hay were upset when they weren’t included while George, Jon, and Marilyn were asked to join Bob Geldof’s No. 1 Band Aid single recording session for “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”. Additionally, the other three members have voiced their remorse over George’s hesitation preventing the entire group from performing at the iconic Live Aid concert held at London’s Wembley Stadium.

George sought help following numerous friends’ overdose deaths, even one at his Hampstead mansion, and has remained sober for over a decade now. Does he appear remorseful about how his drug addiction contributed to the band’s decline? Somewhat, but mostly, he appears as a charming rogue with little concern for guilt. This trait made him an excellent pop star, perhaps not the most reliable boyfriend, and arguably not the most equitable band member.

Ellwood offers a warm, admiring greeting to Culture Club and its vibrant leader that is likely to be appreciated by fans, although unlike the director’s more direct 2020 Showtime documentary titled “The Go-Gos“, she typically opts for tactful discussions rather than in-depth analysis.

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2025-06-09 18:55