Ian Dury wasn't exactly a poster boy for the polite side of the British music scene. He was jagged. He was loud. He was, by almost every account of those who lived through the Stiff Records era, a bit of a nightmare to deal with. So, when the sex & drugs & rock & roll movie hit screens in 2010, it had a massive mountain to climb. It couldn't just be a biopic; it had to be as messy as the man himself.
Honestly, most musical biopics are garbage. They follow that tired Walk Hard formula where the artist discovers their talent, hits a drug-fueled rock bottom, and then finds redemption in the third act while looking wistfully at a sunset. But Mat Whitecross, the director behind this film, didn't play that game. He leaned into the surrealism of Dury’s life, mixing punk-rock energy with the gritty reality of a man living with the long-term effects of polio.
Andy Serkis plays Ian Dury. Most people know Serkis as the guy behind Gollum or Caesar from Planet of the Apes, but here, his physical performance is terrifyingly good. He captures that specific, labored gait and the aggressive, defensive charisma that Dury used as armor. If you’ve ever seen footage of the real Dury performing "Hit Me with Your Rhythm Stick," you know he was a force of nature. Serkis doesn't just mimic him; he inhabits the bitterness.
What the sex & drugs & rock & roll movie gets right about the 70s
The film doesn't just look back at the late 1970s with rose-tinted glasses. It’s dirty. It’s loud. The production design captures that specific grimy London aesthetic that feels like you can smell the stale beer and cigarettes through the screen.
One thing people forget is that Dury was a father during his rise to fame. The movie spends a huge amount of time on his relationship with his son, Baxter. It’s not a sweet, Hallmark-style bond. It’s complicated. Dury drags the kid into his chaotic world, exposing him to the "sex and drugs" part of the title way earlier than any social worker would approve of. Bill Milner, who plays young Baxter, holds his own against Serkis’s manic energy. You see the conflict in the kid’s eyes—he’s proud of his dad, but he’s also clearly terrified of being left behind.
The music isn't just background noise here. It’s the engine. The Blockheads—Dury’s legendary band—are portrayed with the kind of frantic, jazzy-punk precision they actually had. They weren't just some garage band; they were incredible musicians who happened to be backing a guy who spoke-sang about "Spasticus Autisticus."
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The Polio Factor
You can't talk about this film or Ian Dury without talking about disability. The movie goes back to his childhood at a residential school for disabled children. These scenes are hard to watch. They aren't "inspirational" in the way Hollywood usually handles disability. They are brutal. The school was a place of discipline and coldness, and the film suggests this is where Dury’s "blockhead" persona was forged. He had to be tougher than everyone else just to survive.
It’s interesting how the film uses animation and stage-play elements to break up the narrative. It mirrors the way Dury’s mind worked—always performing, always shifting between the harsh reality of his physical limitations and the technicolor world of his lyrics.
Why Serkis was the only choice
A lot of actors would have played Dury for sympathy. They would have emphasized the "tragedy" of his limp. Serkis does the opposite. He makes Dury kind of a jerk. He’s manipulative. He’s unfaithful to his wife, Betty (played by Olivia Williams). He’s demanding of his girlfriend, Denise (Naomie Harris).
This is what makes the sex & drugs & rock & roll movie authentic. It acknowledges that being an icon doesn't make you a saint. Dury was a poet of the working class, but he was also a man who struggled with his own ego and the massive chip on his shoulder.
- The film’s title comes from Dury’s 1977 single, which became a shorthand for the entire era’s excess.
- Chaz Jankel, Dury's primary musical collaborator, was heavily involved in making sure the sound was right.
- The movie avoids the "and then he died" ending that ruins so many biopics.
Instead of a linear timeline, the movie jumps around, much like a setlist at a chaotic pub gig. You get bits of the 50s, the 60s, and the peak of the 70s all smashed together. It’s disorienting at first, but it works because Dury’s life wasn’t a straight line. It was a series of collisions.
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The legacy of the Blockheads on screen
When you watch the performance scenes, pay attention to the details. The film captures that specific crossover point where pub rock met punk. The Blockheads were older than the Sex Pistols, and they were much better at their instruments. The movie respects that. It shows the tension between the band members who just wanted to play and Dury, who was essentially a performance artist using a rock band as his canvas.
There’s a scene where Dury is trying to record "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll" and it’s just not clicking. It captures the creative frustration that defines the artist’s life. It wasn't just magic; it was work. Hard, sweaty, agonizing work.
The film also tackles the controversy of "Spasticus Autisticus," the song Dury wrote for the 1981 International Year of Disabled Persons. The BBC banned it. They thought it was offensive. The irony, of course, was that it was written by a man who actually had the condition he was singing about. The movie shows Dury’s defiance in the face of that censorship. He wasn't looking for permission to exist.
Where the movie sits in the cult film pantheon
It’s a cult movie. It didn't break the box office like Bohemian Rhapsody, and honestly, it’s better for it. It stays true to the indie spirit of Stiff Records. If it had been a massive blockbuster, it would have lost its edge. It would have been polished and sanitized.
The sex & drugs & rock & roll movie serves as a reminder that the punk era wasn't just about safety pins and spitting. It was about people like Ian Dury who didn't fit into any box. He wasn't a typical rock star. He was a middle-aged, disabled man with a cockney accent and the vocabulary of a university professor.
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Critics at the time, like those at The Guardian and Empire, praised Serkis but noted the film's frantic pace might be a bit much for casual viewers. That’s probably fair. If you want a relaxing Sunday afternoon movie, this isn't it. If you want to feel like you've been grabbed by the lapels and shaken for two hours, then it's perfect.
How to watch and what to look for
If you're going to sit down and watch this, do yourself a favor: turn the subtitles on. Not because the acting is bad, but because the slang and the rapid-fire lyrical delivery of Ian Dury can be tough to catch if you aren't fluent in 70s London street talk.
Also, look for the cameos and the way the supporting cast fills out the world. Toby Jones is brilliant as Dury's father. His scenes are brief but they anchor the whole "why is Ian like this?" question that hangs over the film.
Practical Steps for the Real Fan:
- Listen to 'New Boots and Panties!!' first. This was Dury's masterpiece. Understanding the album makes the film’s recording scenes much more impactful.
- Watch the 1977 'Sight and Sound' concert. You can find clips of the real Ian Dury and the Blockheads online. Compare Serkis's movements to the real thing; you'll be blown away by the accuracy.
- Read 'Halleluiah! The Remarkable Story of Ian Dury' by Richard Balls. If the movie leaves you wanting more of the factual nitty-gritty, this is the definitive biography.
- Check out 'The Road to Epsom'. It’s a short documentary where Dury talks about his life. It provides a great contrast to the dramatized version in the film.
The film is ultimately a tribute to a man who refused to be a victim of his circumstances. Ian Dury didn't want your pity; he wanted your attention, your applause, and maybe a bit of your soul. The movie delivers exactly that. It's a loud, proud, and deeply flawed look at a loud, proud, and deeply flawed human being.
Don't expect a neat ending where everything is resolved. Life doesn't work that way, and neither does this film. It just ends, leaving you with the ringing in your ears and the feeling that you’ve just witnessed something incredibly raw.
If you want to understand the DNA of British punk and the sheer grit required to make it in an industry that hates "different," this movie is your textbook. Go find it on streaming, crank the volume up, and pay attention to the man in the middle of the stage. He earned it.