Flea:
John Frusciante:
Anthony Kedis:
Marky Ramone:
Tommy Ramone:
Henry Rollins:
Eddie Vedder:
Pete Yorn:
Rob Zombie:
Too Tough to Die
Information:
[TOUGH] | 2006 | 76 min | Feature Documentary
Directed by: Mandy Stein and Steven Lippman
(Too Tough to Die)USA
World Premiere
Interests: Documentary, Music
Cast & Credits
Synopsis
Spurred on by VH1's Behind the Music series, rock biographies have turned into little more than banal exposés of bad behavior. For this reason alone, Mandy Stein's touching tribute to The Ramones, comes off as oddly unconventional and exciting. Rather than interviewing bitter roadies and flustered hotel managers, Stein talks to the musicians and family members who gathered at the legendary Avalon Theatre in Los Angeles on September 12, 2004, for a concert honoring The Ramones' 30th anniversary. The concert, which took place just two-and-a-half days before Johnny Ramone's death, featured more than a dozen musicians cranking out Ramones covers. Among the more memorable performances were Pete Yorn's soulful interpretations of "Don't Come Close," and a gray-haired Henry Rollins' energetic "Blitzkreig Bop." But it was the sudden appearance of Eddie Vedder, the Hamlet of alternative rock, that really shook the crowd. His doleful moans and sensitive vibratos infused meaning into "I Believe in Miracles." Rob Zombie, a close friend of Johnny Ramone's, agreed to host and help organize the sold-out show. At one point while on stage, he picked up his cell phone and called Johnny, who was too sick to attend the concert. When Johnny answered, he turned the cell phone to the crowd, cueing them to chant "Hey Ho, Let's Go!" Although Rob insists that Johnny was extremely touched by the call, the Ramones' guitarist never lost his signature cool. When the audience settled down, Rob put the phone to his ear: "Keep it moving, Rob," Johnny ordered.
--Rowan Riley+About The Director
A graduate of Occidental College with an art history and visual arts degree, Mandy Stein is both a producer and director. In 1999, she helped shoot and was an associate producer on Devil's Playground, an HBO/Channel 4 Films documentary about Amish youth and the choices they face in the modern world. Other producer credits include: Crossover, an IFC Films documentary on musicians transitioning into acting; Slasher, director John Landis' documentary on a used car salesman (for which Stein also supervised music); and What Remains, a documentary on celebrated photographer Sally Mann that premiered at Sundance and will air on HBO and the BBC. You See Me Laughin', her directorial debut, aired on IFC and focuses on the lives of the hill-country bluesmen who've kept their music alive in juke joints along the Mississippi. Stein is currently working on a documentary on the closing of legendary punk rock club CBGB's.
+Director Statement
The Ramones were truly a family affair for me. My father signed them to his record label, Sire Records, in 1975. My mother was their first manager. They were the first band I saw play live, at CBGB's when I was only 3-years-old. Unable to get a babysitter, my parents brought me to the show. Instead of "Rock a Bye Baby," my lullabies were "Beat on The Brat" and "Blitzkrieg Bop."
Fast forward to the summer of 2004 I had just moved to LA from New York and was spending most of my time doing music supervision. My father would come out from back East to visit. He always made it a point to see his long-time friend Johnny Ramone, who was suffering from prostate cancer. During one of those visits I accompanied my dad. As I sat with Johnny and Linda, his wife, he told me about this show he wanted to put on with his close musician friends - a concert to benefit prostate cancer research. It sounded awesome, the Chili Peppers doing a full Ramones set, Rob Zombie hosting, Eddie Vedder, Pete Yorn, an amazing group of musician all on one stage. After leaving their house I couldn't get the lineup out of my mind. Days later, I put a call in to Linda and we discussed filming the concert. Johnny wanted no part; he felt like his friends were already so generous for doing the show that he didn't want to cause any additional bother. A week or two later I heard that Johnny's health had taken a turn for the worse and he might not be able to make it to the show. It became my mission to shoot this for him. Finally Johnny conceded, or so Linda said. I went to see them for what ended up being my final visit and thanked John for allowing me to shoot the show. "What's she talking about?" He said to his wife. I thought I had just swallowed a brick. Linda had given the OK without his permission. "I knew you were going to do it any way," he told me.
I promised Johnny I would make him proud. It was by far one of the best nights of my entire life. I went straight into editing, trying to put something together for him, but I ran out of time. I heard of Johnny's death just two and half days after the concert, as I sat next to my editor. While making the film I only had one thing in mind: would John think this is cool? I knew if he approved I would be making a great film, and I hope I've made him proud.
Fast forward to the summer of 2004 I had just moved to LA from New York and was spending most of my time doing music supervision. My father would come out from back East to visit. He always made it a point to see his long-time friend Johnny Ramone, who was suffering from prostate cancer. During one of those visits I accompanied my dad. As I sat with Johnny and Linda, his wife, he told me about this show he wanted to put on with his close musician friends - a concert to benefit prostate cancer research. It sounded awesome, the Chili Peppers doing a full Ramones set, Rob Zombie hosting, Eddie Vedder, Pete Yorn, an amazing group of musician all on one stage. After leaving their house I couldn't get the lineup out of my mind. Days later, I put a call in to Linda and we discussed filming the concert. Johnny wanted no part; he felt like his friends were already so generous for doing the show that he didn't want to cause any additional bother. A week or two later I heard that Johnny's health had taken a turn for the worse and he might not be able to make it to the show. It became my mission to shoot this for him. Finally Johnny conceded, or so Linda said. I went to see them for what ended up being my final visit and thanked John for allowing me to shoot the show. "What's she talking about?" He said to his wife. I thought I had just swallowed a brick. Linda had given the OK without his permission. "I knew you were going to do it any way," he told me.
I promised Johnny I would make him proud. It was by far one of the best nights of my entire life. I went straight into editing, trying to put something together for him, but I ran out of time. I heard of Johnny's death just two and half days after the concert, as I sat next to my editor. While making the film I only had one thing in mind: would John think this is cool? I knew if he approved I would be making a great film, and I hope I've made him proud.
