Yes, Bolan just may had gone to heaven (if you choose to believe in such foolishness) upon his early departure from the living in September, 1977, had he been the early Marc Bolan we all fell in love with in the early 70s...
However, there's no chance that what remained of the once charismatic Bolan would have ever been granted access to the promised paradise beyond the pearly gates. No, he would have in fact been facing a welcoming party fronted by a very defensively posed, Jesus Christ. Behind folded arms, with pulled up sleeves, a ready-to-kick-ass Christ would have told Bolan to drag his quintessential-sinner ass down to hell, or have it kicked there by Jesus himself.
Many of you likely only remember the cute, charming, and lovable Marc Bolan we enjoyed in the early 70s. Not many (at least in the Western world) ever got to see the post-bloated, anorexic, far-too-long-drug-abusing sneering, egotistical, bitchy,drag-queen-in-ruby-slippers-and-leopardskin-unitards, dark, and at times downright frightening, Bolan. Only a shell of his former self, Marc was barely recognizable by the time the summer of 1977 rolled around.
That is why Jesus would have reacted that way. Thank God for Marc, Jesus isn't even any more real, (to people who take the time to think at least two seconds a day) than the wizards, and fantastical tales featured in Marc's early Tyrannosaurus Rex songs.
Lucky indeed.
Who wasn't as lucky? The UK television audience in the late summer of 1977. 'Marc' is, technically speaking, the worst piece of under-produced, under-edited garbage to ever be created in the history of television programming. I know that sounds almost impossible, but trust me. I speak the truth...
Everything about this turkey was a step-by-step guide which covered every possible scenario of what NOT to do when producing a television program. From Bolan's hideous attempts at lip-syncing, to his overt sexual touching of himself, to his coked out demeanour, it was a huge mess. Much of the time Marc would be singing, the microphone would be behind him, yet he was still audibly singing in the track. Another much-repeated gem was the fact he was the only guitarist, but was usually far too occupied sexually assaulting himself, to ever even touch, let alone play his Les Paul. A real shame, considering he was, only four years earlier, one of the coolest guys rock n' roll had ever seen...
His slide was sharp, rapid, and obviously highly destructive. Only 29, he looked more like an early 40s female divorcée, than a man in his prime of life. No one who I've ever told of his age at that time, while watching episodes of his train-wreck of a show, can believe he's as young as he was at that time.
'Why are you watching a show you hate?', you may ask?
I guess it would look that way... What, with my 1/10 rating, and berating review above. Look again, and at the beginning of my review of the show I said 'technically speaking'...
Non-technically, the show is an entertainment juggernaut. The bloopers, laughs, and blitzed-out-of-their-minds musical guests will have you watching...and re-watching these classics for years to come. You can't script this kind of television gold. I swear there must have been gift bags in each dressing room, fully stocked with every type of conceivable inebriant known to man...and let me tell you, the stars obviously gobbled them up at a pace equal to their gracious, yet bombed-out-of-his-mind, host.
I love Marc Bolan. Whether its '68 Bolan, '71 Bolan, or Episode six, with under a week to live, Bolan. Each were entertaining in their own special way, and each were one of the best ever at whatever they were doing at that time.
This is why I give this show: Technically 1 out of 10... 'worst TV show ever'
Non-technically 11 out of 10...'one if the most entertaining . shows in history'
Thank you Marc. Thank you Granada. Thank you ITV.
