As anyone who has made a great-author biopic (or even watched one, for that matter) can tell you, writing is among the hardest professions to make cinematic. The slow churn of ideas, the second-guessing and self-editing, and even those rare, exhilarating surges of creative flow are all part of a stubbornly interior, usually static process.
Yesterday’s punk, grunge, and rebel-outsider upstarts have an uncanny way of evolving into today’s elder statesmen of respectable infamy. (Hello, John Waters, Patti Smith, John Lydon, Henry Rollins, and Robin Byrd.) But it’s doubtful that Tom Six will ever be in the mix of latter-day prestige. His desire to stand apart from it is too
