An important addition to our understanding of early '70s anarchy.
Chronologically charts the chaotic rise, fall and reunion of shirtless Iggy Pop and his grungy, volatile crew of iconoclastic Michigan punks who wowed the critics but disappointed the record companies.
A brainy and funny look at the creation and still-evolving legacy of a rock 'n' roll band Jarmusch considers the greatest of all time, even if RollingStone and snobby critics won't admit it.
Miriam Di Nunzio
Those who know every shred of the band's story will find the film a cool reminder of what the Stooges meant to rock 'n' roll. Those who know little of their music will find Pop an interesting and forthcoming individual.
J. R. Jones
Iggy Pop, the band's front man and the only member to graduate to a solo career, is a source of endless hilarity as he recalls the band's grungy beginnings and lurching journey through the music business.
Gimme Danger is more than carried by the colourfulness of its story and characters, and by the bold essay-like thesis that The Stooges -- now firmly ensconced in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame -- were the greatest rock band of all time.
Jarmusch's use of stock footage and snippets of old movies provides perfect backup for the personification of punk nihilism.
Against the steepest of odds, Iggy survives. Nearing 70, he looks healthier than ever, as if everything we know is wrong and wretched excess guarantees longevity.
A bittersweet, elegiac tone can't help but suffuse a film animated by so many anarchic spirits who have since left the planet, but it leaves viewers with the exhilarating, inspiring reassurance that we still have Iggy.