Fillmore

A clumsy, cluttered, grainy tribute to San Francisco's former music Vatican, shot during the venue's final week. The views of promoter Bill Graham (a manic, chest-thumping telephone thug) quickly cease to amuse as he's allowed to thunder one-dimensionally onwards, volume constantly on the up. In between times, a motley selection of performers deliver predominantly lacklustre material to an unimaginative film crew. A still splendidly gritty Box Scaggs is the easy victor, while only the most fervent Jefferson Airplane fans are advised to wade through the surrounding swamp for the measly minute or so of 'Up Against the Wall' offered here. Cinephiles may be able to squeeze an odd laugh from the cretinous use of split screen, but that's pitiful compensation for one of the worst music films of the past decade.