SID & NANCY (1986)
Original U.S One-Sheet (27x41)
Director: Alex Cox
Condition: Very good. Rolled.
NOTES: There’s a British theme in our home office when it comes to posters. Whilst the Chirashis on display are of Japanese and American films, the quads and one-sheets are all from my home country - a reminder of the history and pedigree that came before. Reminders of brilliance, talent and taste. As such, it’s Nil by Mouth, The Offence, Mona Lisa, my own in NEON (sue me, the poster’s a beauty, thanks to this man) and this... arguably Cox’s finest.
My intro to Cox, like many, was through Repo Man: a film described to me at school by a friend who reiterated endlessly the brilliance of its opening - the smoking boots of that poor, poor Highway Patrolman.
I think Repo Man was one of the first films I became aware of world-building. Star Wars, Blade Runner and Highlander had all shown me how one can create whatever rules one wants when it comes to storytelling but Repo Man was the first that repossessed a familiar world and made it its own. Parents. Work. Authority. Religion. Beer. All skewed to Cox’s vision.
And then I tracked down Sid and Nancy... a film that set up a different set of rules to play by. The rules of love. Never so ugly. And never so pure.
A VHS copy was my entry point and my teenage brain glossed over the darkness and focussed on the surreal humour throughout. “ I hate to wait” and Nancy’s stint as a dominatrix being my focus of attention, knowing full well that I was seeing a film that was beautifully crafted and adoringly accurate, only... I wasn’t ready to confront the darkness. I ignored it. Replayed the bits I enjoyed, rather than those endured.
Years passed and finally I began to date and fall in love myself.
And, like Taxi Driver, I suddenly got it. Suddenly understood. Suddenly... I was in love.
Only this love was not just for the film, but for its attitude towards love itself. Overwhelming. Destructive. Addictive.
Deadly.
Mona Lisa, my favourite love story, came later, and Sid and Nancy’s fatalism sang to me as only it could: a love story full of awe and genuine wonder, decaying slowly into snot fuelled subway rides and aching bones. This was - for some - real love.
Suffice to say my first relationships were marred somewhat by my pontificating, overly serious nature, not to mention a predilection for showing films such as this and Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things to girls who liked The Sound of Music and could just about deal with the darkness of Star Trek: First Contact.
There are two elements that make Sid and Nancy Cox’s finest work in my opinion and they’re both elements at odds with one another: its fidelity and its poeticism.
Cox was there. Circled these people. Loved this world. Cox didn’t have to dig deep to display this world. It feels raw. Real. It’s authentic. Ugly, but authentic. Not that those in love notice the world around them.
And that’s when Cox excels. The use of Pray for Rain’s score as the trash falls around our doomed lovers as they make out in a New York alley, backlit by a golden glow, oblivious to the world around them... and the world that awaits.
And that’s the image this poster uses so well, accentuated by the gorgeous gold foil lettering present in its title. This is a film about a romance as golden as Scarlett and Rhett, as Bickle and Betsy and as George and Simone.
Love hurts, as the film’s alternative poster designs boldly state. And it does. Fuck, it should. Always. If it’s true. If it’s real.