Kathleen HannaA firm contender for documentary of the year, The Punk Singer, the directorial debut from director Sini Anderson is as immensely enjoyable as it is vital. Anderson focuses on the Riot grrl movement in the early ‘90’s, and perfectly captures the spirit of the women who charged into battle, declaring war on all that is misogynist and unjust. The film is a mixture of talking heads, stills and archive footage of the era. Is it original in it’s format? Not one bit, but that doesn’t matter one iota, because Anderson has absolutely hit the nail on the head in terms of style. The film is punky, sometimes funny, always angry – it’s how a film about the scene should be made. And of course, there’s girl of the moment (well, in the ‘90’s), Kathleen Hanna.

The film comes about at a time where in our culture, identifying as a feminist doesn’t constrict a person by forcing people to conform to certain rules and regulations, and Hanna very much addresses the criticism she’d faced for making certain choices; being a former stripper for one, being married to a Beastie Boy for another. Perhaps 20 years on we are still riding the third-wave of feminism, although the very fact that Hanna feels she has to apologise for anything would suggest otherwise.

The second half of the film takes a decidedly melancholic turn as Hanna speaks candidly about her current illness, and how it has affected her ability to be able to tour. But as well as being a quite literal discussion, there’s also a sense of reflection about a movement that is little more than a distant memory now. Whilst it was always on the sidelines, one can’t help but feel nostalgic about this grungy, DIY scene which heralded Hanna as their heroine. Do we have an equivalent now? The very fact that Hanna has flourished from a screeching teen to a measured, seemingly calmer individual, isn’t something to mourn. Of course her illness is, but really Hanna, like every other women on the planet, has grown up. She sees some things differently, she’s still angry about things in the past, but ultimately she’s just, well, normal.

The Punk Singer is the sort of film that makes you want to shriek with a hectic muddle of rage, adoration and passion for a woman who was part of a movement that preached relentlessly about the right’s of women to be safe in their communities, to be unashamed of their sexualities, to stand up to inequality and outdated double-standards, and to be free to talk openly about experiences of domestic violence, abortion and sexual crimes. You can go in to the film completely blind knowing nothing about the scene, and It will make you feel alive, it will make you ask questions. It is simply a must-see piece of cinema.

[Rating:5/5]