As a tie-in to one of the themes of Exploitive Black Rock History Month as well as an excuse to make public, once more, my feelings on the film Almost Famous, I thought I’d re-run the following thoughts on films that don’t rock. Our initial discussion was fun, but I was surprised more failed rock movies weren’t brought up and hashed over. What’s that one about the fictional Carole King figure (Illyana Douglas) – Grace of My Heart! I liked it, but I’ve gotten into some long discussions with a couple of friends who KILLED the movie for having, like, a 1967 mixing board in the background during a scene that was set in 1965! Many other rock films do not rock – or cause split reactions among us rock nerds. I’m thinking of The Doors, Andyr. I can’t get by the glued-on sideburns; my man Andy is all-forgiving thanks to the mystical Indian/peyote scenes.
This post initially appeared 5/21/07.
I’ve probably said my piece just fine on my main beef with Almost Famous. Long story short, it’s a cheap, self-help, feel-good story for people who won’t help themselves to feel good. That, and Kate Hudson is among the most annoying screen presences of this era. The kid’s defense of Hudson’s groupie with a heart of gold, Penny Lane (Kid: “You guys are always talking about ‘the fans, the fans, the fans’ – She was your biggest fan!”), during the “truth-telling” flight scare, is especially embarrassing. Knowing glances follow as this 15-year-old dork tells it straight up. How phony! How conceited of semi-autobiographical writer/director Cameron Crowe to cast himself in this role. For whom does Crowe speak? What about that imaginary band’s imaginary fans, who wanted to believe the myth of the cocksmen and their groupies? What about the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll? What about these imaginary fans having to see their imaginary heroes bond over “Tiny Dancer”? Surely there are more realistic, more noble ways to allow for a feel-good, coming-of-age tale in the middle of the world of rock ‘n roll!*
Let’s move onto the exquisitely conceived Black Snake Moan, or what I’ll refer to as Da Blooz Exorcist. Surely you were intrigued by the trailers a few months back of a barely clad Christina Ricci playing a white trash nymphomaniac who’s left by the side of the road, taken in, and nursed – in a sense – back to health and salvation by a blues-playing, Bible-totin’ Samuel L. Jackson, looking a bit like Pops Staples. I know I was intrigued! This had all the markings of a world-class, what-were-you-thinking turd of hilarious proportions. Last night I watched the film in my hotel room, and it nearly delivered the goods.
What they don’t tell you in the trailers is that Jackson’s Lazarus character has his own set of troubles, specifically woman troubles. What else? His woman done left him, and he’s been hittin’ the bottle pretty hard. Turns out he hasn’t been playin’ da blooz in public fo’ some time. The trailer makes you think he shows up on screen a fully formed blooz-slingin’, Bible totin’ healer from the git-go, doesn’t it?
Spoiler Alert! Beware before reading on.
A little more than halfway through the movie, after you’ve had a chance to study 94% of Ricci’s unclothed body (just because Lazarus wants to save this girl by chaining her up to his radiator doesn’t mean he feels the need to grab her a set of clothes any time soon), Laz decides she’s got to take the final steps toward self-realization on her own. He frees her from the radiator, and the heretofore horny Ricci asks just one favor… Get your mind out of the sewer! She asks him to play her da blooz.
In a highly reverent scene, with Ricci curled at her master’s feet, Laz pulls out his Gibson ES355 (or whatever that Chuck Berry model is called), the skies open and thunder strikes, Laz takes off his now pointless wedding band and slips on a slide, and in due time he’s a’wailin’ and a’moanin’ the Black Snake Moan! The camera follows his hands down the neck to his guitar cord, along the floor…to a friggin’ Peavey amp!
From this point the movie turns to a brief Afterschool Special interlude of healing and clothes shopping before da blooz come a’callin’ again! Lazarus decides to return to the stage with Ricci in tow as his road crew. As Laz plays to a packed house in his previously abandoned juke joint, Ricci gets wasted and does the bump and grind with every negro in the joint. This scene has all the subtlety of John Mellencamp‘s legendary paper and fire video, the one with the “down home” black people playin’ spoons and kickin’ up porch dust while he and his band celebrate white people’s contributions to the Civil Rights movement.
All this time I’ve forgotten to tell you about Ricci’s boyfriend, played by Justin Timberlake, who ran off to join the army at the beginning of the movie, triggering Ricci’s efforts to hump every guy in her small town. Sorry. Anyhow, Timberlake, who displays a weak stomach at the movie’s outset, has been kicked out of the army for being a wuss. He spies Ricci doin’ the hustle, and the next morning, while Ricci works off her hangover singing a gospel tune with Laz, Timberlake shows up with a gun! Laz quickly calls bullshit on Timberlake, who cowers and clutches his stomach, ready to heave. Then, massive healing ensues!
Laz’s minister friend comes over to conduct a frank talk about sexual abuse, love, and commitment. Timberlake weeps for the millions of teenage girls the casting director must have imagined would rush to see this film. Then, the minister’s teenage son helps him adjust his tie in the moments leading up to his wedding with Ricci. Shortly thereafter the newlyweds experience their first crises of faith as a married couple: Justin feeling nauseous and Christina feeling the snakes crawl up her crotch. With her newfound knowledge of da blooz‘s respectable cousin, she sings a few bars of her comforting gospel tune and all is well. Just like that, Da Blooz Exocist end. It’s a remarkable.
*On a related note, I’ve got HBO in my hotel room, which I don’t have at home. The last 2 days I’ve watched bits of The Sopranos, a show I’d only seen once before, years ago. Here’s another example of self-help entertainment. Believe me, I’m all for self-help, looking within, and therapy, but it’s us who should be getting the help, doing the work, not imaginary thugs and rock stars.
If Cameron Crowe had written and published a book first – and it was his actual autobiography instead of this semi-autobiographical crap, and they were making it into a movie, do you think that your opinion would be different? He also went on to do the semi-autobiographical Elizabethtown. Maybe this is Crowe’s way of being therapeutic and coming to terms with his own bizarre past? Doesn’t every director put a piece of themselves into a film to mark it as their own masterpiece (I’m thinking coppolas)? I guess, the self being in the film might be a new one – but if it were your life wouldn’t you say ‘already, enough’s enough, I gotta make a movie about this – because no one else has had these experiences and who’s gonna even believe me.’ Of course he’s going to glam them up and make them interesting to the point of making some people gag, but that’s what director’s do. As far as the Peavey’s concerned (re: BSM), that’s a real travesty – don’t they have on-hand film consultants for this kind of thing, or was there actually a Peavey written into the script? I smell a sponsor.
Question: is High Fidelity different because it was fictional before they made it into a movie, and hence this makes it more enjoyable? I have my issues with High Fidelity’s story line, but mostly because I read the book first.
Call me when she’s ready to show the final 6%.
More Peavey: “It is safe to suggest that virtually every Grammy nominee and winner has used Peavey products on stages and in studios over the course of the past fifty years. Luther Dickinson of the three-time Grammy nominated North Mississippi All Stars says “Peavey is the sound of the Mississippi juke joint. That’s our sound and we take it around the world.”
http://billboardpublicitywire.com/
releases/2007/4/prweb517825.htm
Sally C, it’s hard to say whether an actual autobiographical book by Crowe would have been any better. His movies are usually heavy handed and manipulative. Could he have controlled those impulses in autobiographical book form? I don’t think that’s his bag. As it is, the story in this film and the way it’s portrayed strikes me as too pedestrian to work in any format. You know how the movie would have worked best? As an episode of The Wonder Years. I’m serious about that. Fred Savage as the boy. The sister from that show as the sister. The Mom as the Mom. Etc. Phillip Seymour Hoffman could stay.
Sally C asks:
I thought the movie was better than the book, so I’m not qualified to answer…but I will: try:) I thought the book was dragged down by Hornby’s lists of songs the character thought were outstanding. At every moment he’d be cruising along with some gimmes like “Respect” and “Working for the Clampdown”, or whatever, and then he’d throw in a mushy Stevie Wonder ballad or a song from Springsteen’s Lucky Town lp. The movie wisely steered clear of the worst of Hornby’s music collection. Also, the movie kept modest expectations and delivered. I didn’t feel like my hand was being held. I wasn’t expected to feel like some glorified 15-year-old nerd again, more like a 28-year-old version of myself. Much easier to swallow.
EX-cellent review of Black Snake Moan, Mr. Mod!
To the topic of Peavey amps… that grizzled old black dude is right: the blue/black Peavey amp is absolutely the sound of every church and juke-joint down south. Fender tweed/”blues” fetishists should ponder this as they whip out their wallets to buy amps that have no current chitlin’ cred whatsoever.
(BTW, in white amp history news, Lynyrd Skynyrd was also an all-Peavey band. Did you know?)
I saw an article somewhere (EW.com?) that for the film, Ricci was nude the whole time – even between takes. She felt she had to walk around naked to really get into the character.
That’s the kind of dedication to the arts that I can appreciate!
Then why do you object so much when I spend our rehearsal nights completely naked!??
Wow.
High Fidelity was one of only three movies that I’ve walked out on. And considering I’m a Cusack fan, that’s something. Almost Famous is just goofy Hollywood tripe. Can’t see how anyone can get worked up over it either way. Though, again, Hoffman as Bangs was cool.
High Fidelity was a crime against writing and directing. Every scene was so forced and contrived that I only made it half way before coming to grips with the fact that I would never get this time back.
It shares walk-out company with the Margot Kidder vehicle- Trench Coat (affectionately referred to in this household as Stench Coat or Open Trench Coat) and Nora Ephron’s follow-up to Sleepless in Seatle, Mixed Nuts. The phrase “Mixed Nuts” is now synonymous with “bad movie”, as in, “How was High Fidelity?”, “Mixed Nuts.”
When you get a rack like hers, you can walk around naked like her. Deal?
(my apologies to anyone who objects to the term “naked”)
Are you guys aware that Peavey headquarters is in Mississippi, Meridian to be exact? (Meridian is also the birthplace of The Singing Brakeman Jimmie Rodgers, the Father of Country Music, and there’s a cool museum there didicated to him. But that’s another story.)
I’m not sure if Black Snake Moan is geographically specific, but it’s realistic that Jackson’s character would play a Peavey. Him playing a $2000 Gibson is what’s not realistic.
God, the Tiny Dancer scene in Almost Famous makes me hurl. I feel so uncomfortable watching it.
I’ll have to say, I’m impressed and stunned by all I’m learning about the Peavey company’s reach in the deep South today. No joke. You never know just how your pince nez prescription will be fine tuned on any given day around here.
Yes. But I had no idea until I googled that article just how much of a nerd I actually was for dockin’ on the Peav’;) Peavey’s just make me think of countless metal cover bands, and it’s the amp that your parents buy you when they think you’re only going through a “phase” of playing guitar. This happened to a friend and when he upgraded to a better guitar and a better amp, they told him he should take them both back because it was a waste of his time. Sadly. What parents DO that?
Great takedown of Black Snake Moan! Bonus points for attacking John Cougar Mellencamp’s faux-populist shtick which has always bugged me.
Crossroads, in which Ralph “ka-rocky kid” Maccio learns the blues from an old man so he can have a guitar fight with (no lie) Steve Vai and win the old man’s soul back in a double or nothing scheme.
wretched.
High Fidelity was atrocious. So was Almost Famous.
So were:
Sgt Pepper
Xanadu
Velvet Goldmine
Pump up the Volume
Eddie & The Cruisers
Tommy
Did anyone see the Hugh Grant – Drew Barrymore film Music & Lyrics? My kids had it on a few weeks ago and it caught my attention. A cute, obvious, trifling film so there are a lot worse ways to spend two hours. But I was stunned by the fantastic pop songs in it. Light & frothy and plenty of fun.
I’m deep in the heart of Mississippi.
Peavey Electronics is an institution down here. Hartley Peavey is considereone of the great Mississippi businessmen. You go into any music store down here and you’ll find Peavey there.
As far as equipment, I played through a vintage Peavey bass head for a number of years. Whiles it’s not the great thing in the world, it does take a licking and…you know…
The old joke around here is that you can drop a Peavey amp from the three story building, pick it up, plug it in, and rock on.
TB
On a side note:
When I did a little time working in a local music shop, I wouldn’t have been caught dead with a Peavey for no better reason than I was “Peaveyed out”.
TB
The idea of bad, un-rocking films with fine soundtracks is an interesting sub-category. I know better than to try to watch Crossroads, but the soundtrack album is very fine. (I am admittedly a Ry Cooder maniac.) I found the film Velvet Goldmine at least interesting, but I think someone the other day (Oats?) pointed out how much better the soundtrack is than the film.
I’d say the original Tommy album is better than the film, but the soundtrack version leaves a lot to be desired. I really don’t like the film, but I’m admittedly a Ken Russell hata (except for Women in Love).
I loved I’m Not There, but I’m sure many people will like the soundtrack but hate the film.
Not that I disagree with kilroy, but some day, I’d like to see Eddie & The Cruisers and (more importantly) Eddie & The Cruisers II: Eddie Lives taken into the RTH labs for some serious review and commentary. I just don’t know if any of the rest of you have it in you to make that kind of commitment.
Words & The Music, man. Words & The Music.
Oooh. I sat through that sequel to Eddie. It’s a turd of the highest order.
I’m with you, Steve, on I’m Not There. I think it’s a brilliant film.
TB
The first was largely filmed at the Jersey shore and some of the concert scenes were filmed in Tony Marts, a legendary but long gone club down there. As much as I love seeing local places that I know on the big screen, that movie was friggin tough to sit through.
I like that Eddie is hiding his identity behind that little mustache and a construction gig on EDDIE 2. That kid who plays his idolator is one of the least charismatic people ever seen on screen.
I just saw Streets of Fire-a rock and roll fable for the first time a few nights ago. I shut it off. it was so bad.
I suppose there ought to be an entirely different category for Dylan films but Hearts Of Fire has to rank up there as one of the unintentionally funniest movies ever.
Hearts of Fire is terrible. I did laugh at the scene when Bob goes through the toll and asks what she’s listening to.
“He sucks!” is the reply as he rides off.
TB
High Fidelity: OK book turned into an OK movie. But at least “Let’s get it On” is now a bar-jukebox staple. I dig that song.
Almost Famous: Fun movie. Don’t over think it.
Black Snake Moan: Decent music, Christina Ricci all nuded-up, and you’re arguing what brand of amp?
Cross Roads: Would have been much better if Mr. Miagi would have taught a G chord via the wax-on-wax-off technique.
My guitarist plays a Peavey “Delta Blues” and it sounds better than the new fender Twin Reverbs. It’s 30 watts with a 15″ speaker and a tremolo. Best amp under $600. And it’s tweed covered, not rat-fur.
Forgot about Hearts Of Fire — can you still even rent this??
ok…. you are right, this is SPOT ON
“Peavey’s just make me think of countless metal cover bands, and it’s the amp that your parents buy you when they think you’re only going through a “phase” of playing guitar.”
Jake, don’t be a stranger. You’re in the running for Comment of the Month.
Mr. Moderator,
Thanks for the consideration. It’s good to see this board has a sense of humor. I’m glad I didn’t break into your Brian Emo fetish right away. Keep on rockin’, brother. It’s all in fun.
After reading my post that typo worked out just right…
I’ll agree with Mod-man on these two hunks of cinematic offal, but was Black Snake Moan even supposed to rock?
As far as your footnote on The Sopranos: You’re dead wrong, my friend. I watched that entire series, and apart from The Wire, it’s probably the best written/directed/performed piece of work I’ve seen on the big or small screen in a long while.
To reduce the scope of what’s covered in that program to a simple “it’s self-help entertainment” is to single out one tiny element (& miss the point of the element) in an intricately written/ multi-faceted extended work like The Sopranos and do it a major disservice.
Sorry, Moddy, but I think you just plum missed the boat on that one.
Merely seeing “bits & pieces” of an ongoing story, which ran for about 10 years puts you in no position to give it any kind of REAL review. Stick with something you’ve actually seen in it’s entirety.
I couldn’t even make it through the pilot of the Wire. Really seemed like it was trying way too hard.
CDM” “I couldn’t even make it through the pilot of the Wire. Really seemed like it was trying way too hard. “
Finally, someone who agrees with me. I like a whole lot o tough, gritty, urban crime stuff but that show has really left me cold. Just humorless and one-dimensional to me. I felt the same way about OZ and DEADWOOD as well. Loved THE SOPRANOS though…