One of the many good things documentaries can do is make you aware of a person, a movement, a moment that you somehow overlooked, and help you realize just how important and how wonderful that person (or art form or whatever) was and/or is. So it was for me with "The Punk Singer". Not growing up a big punk fan, I missed out on Kathleen Hanna and Bikini Kill, and the Riot Grrrl movement. My loss. This angry, joyful, tough, articulate, crazy, sexy, insightful, funny, political artist was a major force in feminism and social politics, and if I came late to the party I'm grateful to the film for making the introduction now. The film can be uneven – some (not all) of the talking head interviews with others aren't very interesting - when compared to the performance footage of Hannah, or her ability to analyze her work and it's meaning in her own interviews – but I ended up inspired by the woman and the artist, and inspiration these days is in short supply.

Excellent documentary from director Sini Anderson on Bikini Kill/Le Tigre front woman Kathleen Hanna, who dropped out of the music biz in 2005 after contracting late-stage Lyme disease (but who kept her disappearance mysterious, hardly disclosing her illness to anyone). A rage-filled college girl from Olympia, Washington, Hanna was a rabid feminist with a troubled childhood whose jagged fanzine art and spoken word rants eclipsed into musical genius with her first band, Bikini Kill. Although not for the faint-of-heart, Bikini Kill (three females, one male) were instrumental in leading the Riot Grrrl movement of the early 1990s. Testimonials from Hanna's peers (including members of Bratmobile and Sleater-Kinney, Kim Gordon from Sonic Youth and Joan Jett, who produced Bikini Kill's most proficient EP) help fill in some of the personality gaps, yet when Anderson just allows Hanna to speak--and when the musician opens up, she's quite candid--the results are fascinating, most especially for fans. Also interesting: the potentially-explosive paradox of a young, hardcore feminist who finds true love (and eventually marriage) with a male kindred spirit, Adam Horovitz of the Beastie Boys. *** from ****

Kathleen Hanna, the talented lead of a 90's punk band makes waves appealing to a niche audience of punk rock fans that admire or agree with a feminist stance. No, stop...it wasn't the music (aside from her)turning people off - it was because the group is admittedly horrible and unapologetic about it. I'm not invested in this film, nor have I ever heard of them. I just find it odd that Kathleen scrawls "Incest" on her chest before live shows and then bemoans the consequence when people think she suffered from it. (go figure).This was during the 90's? What serious systemic anti-feminist movements were occurring? She goes on to state her boyfriend made jokes around inequality. So she dates him on the sly for years.I would never sexualize this woman. I don't need to, to make her and the band to become irrelevant.

"I'm your worst nightmare come to life! I'm a girl who you can't shut up!" On an old home video in a tiny living room, a woman screams about pain, feminism, and the aggression of men in Olympia, Washington, in 1991. It's the voice of Kathleen Hanna, who will front groundbreaking punk band Bikini Kill and feminist party band Le Tigre, help launch the Riot Grrrl movement, inspire a mainstream grunge rock scene dominated by men, and courageously and emphatically serve as the mouthpiece for every girl who thought she could only whisper things in her bedroom.Over 20 years later, Hanna is finally given her day in rock history in director Sini Anderson's award-winning documentary THE PUNK SINGER. The origin stories this born leader, third wave feminist icon, and ultimate low-fi artist are brought to life through archival footage, intimate interviews, and commentaries by Kim Gordon, Carrie Brownstein, Ann Powers, Adam Horovitz, and former bandmates. Hanna's in-your-face activism—through lyrics, zines, and manifestos—moved women to the front, literally and figuratively. Two decades later, Hanna is still ripping down barriers of music and gender and art, still proudly saying "Stay out of my way!"