It's nice to finally know for certain that on this site the word "classic" means nothing at all, unless perhaps it's a cryptic warning that the film is the exact opposite of a classic, but they can't tell you that because it might put you off renting it. If you have good eyesight, you may already have noticed that its own DVD cover describes it as "the Plan 9 From Outer Space of British pop movies", but even that's being too kind, because "Plan 9" is fun in a goofy kind of way, whereas this is just painful. A more accurate comparison would be with "Santa Claus Conquers The Martians". Or something Ken Russell might have made for the Children's Film Foundation if he'd been allowed to direct movies when he was twelve.
It actually begins very promisingly, with an incredibly strange song about choc-ices manically belted out by a barely recognisable electronically tweaked Lulu while grinning soft toys randomly jiggle about, as if we're going to be treated to a psychedelic parody of the Teletubbies three decades before they were invented. Or something equally nuts. Then, about two minutes in, the credits end and we're past the bit worth watching. Well, to be fair, a few of the musical numbers are quite good. But no better than what you'd find on any compilation album of sixties obscurities. And obscurities they are. You may have heard of Lulu, and Ginger Baker who would later be one-third of Cream is featured in the only musical number other than the title track that really gets your attention, in which no less than nine drummers all try to outdo each other. But the passage of time has been less kind to the likes of Ray Lewis and the Trekkers. Though Muppet fans may appreciate a rare glimpse of drummer Ronnie Verrell before he was Animal.
After those crazy credits, we find ourselves on a ramshackle planet represented by the first of many small, cheap sets that would have been just about acceptable in a seventies "Doctor Who" episode, and meet Wilco Roger, a bumbling extraterrestrial played astonishingly badly by Kenneth Connor, one of several second-string Carry On regulars who serve no purpose other than to pad out the cast of young musicians who can't act with middle-aged actors the audience would have heard of, thus hopefully fooling them into thinking they were watching a competently made film. Connor and the other sitcom veterans look genuinely embarrassed to be there. They also appear to think the movie is aimed at very small children. Anyhow, this twerp has to reconcile warring tribes of third-rate rockers and fifth-rate crooners by bringing about a romance between two tenth-rate actors, and...
Well, you get the general idea. This might work as a late-night movie if you're of student age, at least half-drunk and/or stoned, and there are several of you egging each other on to watch it ironically, but apart from not all the music being entirely bad (though the sugary ballads that comprise half the soundtrack are truly abysmal), the only thing it's really got going for it is that incredible opening number, which you can watch on YouTube and save 85 minutes that would have been better spent doing just about anything else. Oh, and the gonks? The briefly fashionable cuddly toys are shoehorned into the film in a woefully misguided attempt to seem "with it" by a plot device whereby if Wilco Roger can't end the musical hostilities between Beatland and Ballad Isle, he'll be exiled to Planet Gonk. Which would apparently be a fate worse than appearing in this film. The mind boggles...
To be fair the distributor, Network, in the run up to releasing this film didn't suggest it was any lost classic. They may have called it demented and observed a fair few of the cast looked more than a little bit embarrassed and they'd probably be right. Nevertheless, Gonks go Beat does have a bizarrely charming titled sequence - arguably the best bit of the film and is somewhere between Saul Bass and The Clangers - the remainder of the film are a series of musical acts with some sequences that try and tell some form of story. Does the story matter? Not really, but there's some 60s R&B energy to some of the Beatland acts (Beatland? you ask, well the story is about a conflict between Beatland and Balladisle that needs resolving), and some quite average Balladisle balladry but there are some pleasing inventive moments, like the musical invasion and all in all it's an intriguing historical relic. Relic it is, because the story itself isn't good enough and nor is the music, but at least for all it's cheapness, it's never staid. It's not dated though very much of its time and an intriguing bit of cinematic history. As long as you take it for what it is and expect no more, than it's a somewhat bewildering 90 minutes but at least the film tried to do something - even if it has some terribly judged moments, the dance sequence anyone? - different and for that better than another 100 superhero movies.