It seems a bit unfair to criticize the film as tilted toward McLaren's point of view.  Yes, he's a self-serving egotist, but an amusing one, and his narrative is obviously unreliable, one the film uses as part of its satirical fantasy-world.  On Julien Temple's fine commentary track, or as far as I've gotten, he twice mentions he followed William Burrough's cut-up method for fragmenting and rearranging bits of footage, but it seems to me the film as a whole has a Burroughs-like feel to it:  paranoid, pornographic, very  funny, sometimes sadistic, a noir fantasy-expose that doesn't even take terribly seriously its own cultural revelations and anarchic explosions.  Some of it is sophomoric and worse, dull, the sound muffled and picture blurred, but the music's great, the imagination shameless, and it earns its cult reputation.  Johnny Rotten is more maniacal and immediately charismatic than McLaren, and the band better than McLaren lets on, but MM was no dope.  For all his artiness and pretension, he had a lot going on as well.