​SUCK: LEARNING ABOUT “THE PRICE” FROM ALICE COOPER BY JOHN QUICK

Beyond just his music, Alice Cooper is known for his ability to blend elements of horror and shock into his stage shows and even his lyrics. It’s the reason he was chosen to provide songs for FRIDAY THE 13TH PART VI (“Teenage Frankenstein”, “Hard Rock Summer”, and “He’s Back (The Man Behind the Mask)”), and it’s also the reason his appearance in the rock ‘n roll / vampire movie SUCK is so appropriate.

Alice Cooper didn’t write SUCK—that honor goes to Writer / Director / Star Rob Stefaniuk. His role isn’t even that large, though I would argue it’s one of the most important. Still, his influence is all over the place in the movie, considering how closely the movie’s themes mirror some of the same ones he has written about in countless songs over the course of his career.

SUCK is the story of a down-and-out rock band, satirically named The Winners (played by Rob Stefaniuk, Jessica Paré, Paul Anthony, and Mike Lobel). Their shows are lackluster, they’re broke, and their manager (Dave Foley) just quit on them when they wouldn’t rebrand themselves as a K-Pop act. After yet another unmemorable show, their bassist, Jennifer (Paré), decides to go party with a cool, mysterious, and slightly frightening guy who came to see them and chatted her up after she came offstage. What none of them know is that the guy’s a vampire, named Queenie (Dimitri Coats), who has spent his undead existence turning promising musicians to give them what they’ve always wanted. Lead singer (and Jennifer’s ex-boyfriend) Joey (Stefaniuk) doesn’t know what happened to her that night, but he knows that all the increasing attention on the band afterward is focused squarely on her. When he catches her drinking blood from the severed arm of a man she just killed, he figures it out, and in so doing, finds himself at a crossroads: kick her out, keep his soul, and remain a failure, or let her stay to get the fame and fortune he wanted, but at a steep price.

Two things can be said about Alice Cooper in relation to this concept: one, he is a consummate storyteller, weaving his tales through song rather than prose, and two, the price you’re willing to pay to achieve your dreams and ambitions is a frequent theme in those tales. When we first meet him as a wise old bartender, he sums up our protagonist quite effectively: “You're afraid of being a loser for the rest of your life. Too late for you. Too late for the band. I would say you're 30 pounds of junk food and a retail job away from killing yourself.”

I don’t care what aspect your creativity takes, if you chose to pursue those dreams, you hit that make-or-break point, that proverbial crossroads that Robert Johnson sang about and implanted in the music industry consciousness for the remainder of time. We’ve all been there, or are rapidly approaching it. Do you keep going because you’ve no other choice and you can’t not do it, or do you give up, relegating your dreams to an occasional hobby when you feel especially down on

yourself? Unfortunately, too many people give up. Let’s face it: being an artist of any kind, be it a painter, photographer, musician, writer, it’s hard. Hard enough that at some point, you wish there was an easier way to achieve that dream.

SUCK, much like Alice Cooper, shows you that easier way. Head down to the crossroads, sign your name, strike a deal, and watch those dreams soar. Once you do, however, there’s one question that will haunt you for the rest of your life: was it worth it? Is the success you gain worth the price you pay? That question is the crux of SUCK, much as it is a common theme in Alice’s music.

Another theme from Alice’s music that makes an appearance here is that of addiction. They treat a vampire’s need to feed the same way they might treat a junkie’s need for a fix, or a crack head’s desire to hit the pipe one more time. It brings up the interesting question of: is an addict a monster, or just a victim of their own vices? Alice has gone on record about his own adventures living the sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll lifestyle, and they’re reflected quite nicely here as well, under the same auspices he did it: horror.

Don’t get me wrong. SUCK functions perfectly well as a black comedy featuring vampires and cameo appearances from the rock elite such as Alice, Iggy Pop, Henry Rollins, and even Alex Lifeson and Moby. But if you want to dig deeper, the question’s there for you to ponder. Likewise, Alice Cooper makes good music, but there’s more than just cool guitar lines and his distinct vocal delivery, if you want to look for it. Why would he be interested in this particular project? Because I think he saw himself in it, and understood those deeper implications.

As we see later in the movie, his character is more than just a simple bartender with an uncanny knack for prescience. After being knocked out when his current girlfriend hits him in the head with a beer bottle, Joey finds himself in a physical representation of that metaphorical crossroads, and who else could be there to meet him but Alice Cooper? Only he’s not a bartender, he’s something… more.

There’s an ambiguity to what that exactly is. He says he’s a vampire, the oldest of them all, but there’s some context to suggest that perhaps he’s the devil himself, maybe even the same one who gave Robert Johnson exceptional talent on the guitar all for the low, low price of his soul. If it’s just a vampire movie to you, then the answer is obvious. If, like me, the metaphors run deeper, then it seems more and more like Old Scratch himself was tending bar in that sleazy rock club. Especially fitting when you consider that a devout Christian, such as Alice Cooper has become in his later years, would use the role to hammer home the theme about the price you pay for your dreams. A point that becomes clear, I should add, when Alice, quoting himself, tells Joey, “Welcome to My Nightmare.”

As a movie, SUCK is a low-budget ($3.5M Canadian) indie picture with big-budget aspirations. Yes, some of the effects look hokey, and the stop-motion interludes of cars and bats are the definition of cheese, but the filmmakers intended for it to be that way, and that makes all the difference. It’s obvious that they chose to focus on the script, the themes, and the music, all of which are incredible. The third act is a bit weak, but there’s a sting of “Six Months Later” just before the credits roll that delivers on the thematic promise of the price you pay, and shows also how hard it is to escape once you’ve made the bargain. The cameos are used well, and allow these larger than life figures the chance to gnaw away at the scenery to their heart’s content. In-jokes, throwbacks, and Easter eggs abound, such as the band crossing a street to form the Beatles’ Abby Road cover and Malcolm McDowell’s vampire hunter being named Eddie Van Helsing.

Another stand-out here is the soundtrack. Stars Rob Stefaniuk (Joey) and Dimitri Coats (Queenie) are talented musicians in their own right, and get to shine with the bulk of the movie’s original songs. That’s not to say our cameo performers are left out in the cold, though. Moby does a pretty cool metal turn as lead singer of a band called The Secretaries of Steak, and we get Iggy Pop’s “Success” on the soundtrack as well as Alice’s own “I Am the Spider”. Nothing from Rush or Henry Rollins’s catalog, but it’s unlikely they would fit with the overall theme of the movie as well as the others.

Alice Cooper didn’t write this. He’s not even the main antagonist—though you could argue that in a way, he actually is. His music isn’t especially prominent in the movie. Yet, without him, the movie would not work nearly as well. His portrayal of the road-worn, “seen-it-all” creature who inhabits that mystical crossroads provides moments of gravitas in a film with precious few of them, and is so believable that you might even wonder if he’s the one who’s been there all along, even outside of the movie realm.