Noddy Holder is recounting the colourful discussions that led to Slade In Flame, the 1975 feature film that stalled the band’s career but has been subsequently hailed (by critic Mark Kermode) as “the Citizen Kane of British pop movies”, poised for a plush 50th anniversary remaster by the BFI. “We were adamant we were not going to do a slapstick movie, which is what was expected of us,” says the ever-avuncular Holder. “Although, we were quite interested in one idea for a sci-fi horror movie – a spoof of The Quatermass Experiment. We all liked it apart from Dave Hill. He was going to be eaten by a triffid in the first 15 minutes, and all we’d see for the rest of the movie was his hair dangling out of its mouth.”
Sci-fi’s loss was gritty realism’s gain. Produced in the wake of That’ll Be The Day and Stardust, Slade in Flame was an even darker take on the rock’n’roll dream, lifting the lid on the cut-throat gangsters stoking pop’s star-making machinery. It was written after Slade’s manager Chas Chandler invited writer Andrew Birkin and first-time director Richard Loncraine on the road with the band in America. “I think they ended up coming home after two weeks with a nervous breakdown,” laughs Holder.
“It was insane,” reflects Loncraine today. “Chas did live up to his reputation. He could be pretty aggressive. I remember at one point during filming he grabbed the camera – a quarter-of-a-million-pound brand new Panavision – and said, ‘I want more close ups of my boys!’ And then he threw the camera on the ground.”
Filming was chaotic. None of the band had acted before, and drummer Don Powell was still recovering from a car accident that left him with no short-term memory. But the experienced actors were even more problematic. Alan Lake, who had a memorable turn as singer Jack Daniels, was fresh out of prison when he showed up on set.
“Alan was tough but lovely,” says Holder. “His downfall was, he was a drinker. On our first day of shooting, we were in a club in Mayfair. We had a good lunch, but Alan wanted a drink from behind the bar. The manager of the club said, ‘I’m not opening the bar for you,’ and so Alan chinned him. The producers sacked him, but the next day, his wife Diana Dors came in to plead that we gave him another chance. We took him back on, and he didn’t drink again. It gave his performance a real edge. He was a scary guy – a character in real life as well as in the movie.”
The filming was beset by mishaps and bizarre occurrences. “We were shooting a scene where Dave buys a Rolls Royce,” remembers Loncraine. “This weird character wearing a pig mask and with filthy feet kept on getting into frame, and we had to reshoot. I said to the owner, ‘Why did you let this tramp into your showroom?’ He said, ‘I’m not in the habit of throwing Howard Hughes out of my shop.’ Apparently he was staying at the Inn On The Park, just off Park Lane at the time.”
Despite featuring some of Slade’s finest ever songs (including “Far Far Away” and “How Does it Feel?”), the film flopped on release but stands today as a reminder of times when rock movies dared to be more than glossy jukebox musicals. Having said that, Holder isn’t averse to the idea of a Slade biopic. “Who would play me?” he wonders. “I think it would have to be Brad Pitt.”
