BILLY IDOL SHOULD BE DEAD (Tribeca 2025) – Review by Sherin Nicole
Billy Idol first appeared in front of me during the “Rebel Yell” era—when that shock of white hair and that signature snarl commanded MTV’s rotation like a punk rock fallen angel who would later inspire a beloved platinum-haired vampire named Spike. That same magnetic presence radiates through Jonas Åkerlund’s documentary, Billy Idol Should Be Dead, like an elevated deluxe edition of Behind the Music for the zines and the back row of the art house cinemas.
For the newbies, Billy Idol emerged from London’s punk scene genesis, transforming from Generation X frontman to MTV megastar by fusing punk’s aura with dance music’s appeal—a combination he pioneered. He didn’t just ride the rocket of music television’s Moonman; he fueled the engines, turning his hits White Wedding and Dancing with Myself into non-conformist bridges between London punk and American mainstream. His leather-clad and sneering glam became synonymous with freedom to be, while his music videos helped drive a different kind of British Invasion of the US music scene.
Billy Idol Should Be Dead comes straight from the man himself, who admits with characteristic swagger that he “should be dead with everything that I did to myself.” It’s his unaffected honesty that sets the tone for Åkerlund’s vision, a natural evolution for the Swedish director whose roots in black metal and decades of crafting visual feasts for everyone from Madonna to Metallica make him the perfect conduit for this story of survival. Åkerlund guides the documentary from gorgeously crisp interviews—shot in rich black and glowing white—to lush but cheeky animated sequences that play out like fever dreams, weaving through the mayhem and pivotal moments that reveal the man behind the wild child persona. Allowing every line on Idol’s face to tell the tale as clearly as his voice and the testimony of those who know him well.
Through the archival footage and candid interviews, we see how Idol and longtime guitarist Steve Stevens crafted a sound and image that would influence generations of musicians and moviemakers too. One of the doc’s most fascinating revelations comes in the form of an unlikely trio: Idol, Nile Rodgers, and David Bowie. The story of how these three crossed paths in an after-hours club, with Idol’s enthusiastic “Bloody hell, it’s David effin’ Bowie!” leading to a friendship that would change things for Bowie and Rodgers, is just so Billy Idol. Isn’t it ironic that Idol’s notorious partying pushed Rodgers toward producing for Bowie? Billy Idol Should Be Dead is a compendium of ironies—some delightful and others tragic.
But perhaps the most powerful aspect of this documentary is its portrait of a man who’s danced with death too many times, yet emerged not just alive but truly living. There’s a profound beauty in witnessing this icon “living every day like it might be my last.” Today, he still reigns on stage with the same rebellious energy that defined his younger days, all while raining kisses on his grandchildren. Take the ride with him and stay for the closing animation that could be a movie by itself. He made it to the end and hopefully you will too. Billy Idol survived and, despite addiction, somehow thrived. This punk kid did alright.
