As much as I rack my brain, I cannot think of another film that is named for its producer rather than its subject: "It's All Gone Pete Tong," the press kit for this peculiar biopic helpfully explains, is Cockney rhyming slang for "it's all gone wrong." That the title happens to play on the name of the famous DJ who produced this film about a fictional DJ is a confusing vanity.
From the top, then: Frankie Wilde (played to the hilt by the English comedian Paul Kaye), is a superstar at the mixing tables of the disco paradise Ibiza. He spends his time shagging, drinking, snorting astonishing mountains of cocaine, and providing triumphant anthems for the massive raves the Spanish island has become famous for. As long as the beat goes on, his sleazy producer (Mike Wilmot) and model wife (Kate Magowan) are more than happy to cater to his prodigious appetites for drugs, sex, and partying. But when Frankie realizes that the nights spent in clubs near pounding speakers are turning him deaf, his world falls apart. From there on, we're treated to a fall-and-redemption story that owes as much to Howard Hawk's freak-out in "The Aviator" as it does to "Children of a Lesser God."
The tone of the film is almost as confusing as its title. Talking head interviews with real club personalities give a mockumentary feel that doesn't add much to the story. Above all, director Michael Dowse seems determined to turn Frankie's story into a riotous comedy, even when the events depicted aren't very amusing. Some of Frankie's escapades are hilarious, but perhaps you have to be British to find humor in the sight of a man collapsing with white snot dangling from his nose and blood dripping from his ears.
For Frankie's third-act redemption, the tone shifts to borderline saccharine. As the completely deaf musician beats the Coke Badger, discovers that he can feel the beat, and finds true love, Dowse doesn't shy away from shooting a lovers kiss against a blood-red sunset. Despite (or perhaps because) of its patchwork style and mostly unlikable main character, "It's All Gone Pete Tong" somehow works—like the music at its heart, there isn't much depth, but the glittering surface is entertaining enough to while away the night.
