Oh boy. Probably you know this movie is tortuously bad. You will not need me to tell you this.
But you know, it almost could have been not so, because we all have a bit of groupie in us. We allow great latitude to filmmakers who go where we secretly wish we could, perhaps simply because it is forbidden.
Offhand, I can think of three films all seriously damaged that were groupie films that we allowed and even think are pretty good.
One of these you may not know. It was about Gram Parsons, a documentary that was structured as a groupie experience, even down to explaining why there was no sex. (He was chronically too doped up to perform.) It ends with a groupie stealing his body and burning it in the desert. Based on real events, home movies and interviews with the entourage, its almost perfectly designed as an ersatz tour.
Then there's "The Doors." Stone makes flashy but empty movies, but this one resonated because the focus wasn't the suicidal son of a dumb admiral, but on the girl who would give everything just to feel his skin. Its about the only thing Meg's dewy face and manner is good for.
Probably the one that seems the best but is the worst is "Almost Famous" because though it collected the whole audience in a grouping of groupies, and it had the sex with the simpleton girlies, it had the guys as well. This opened things up, because by the very act of watching we were joining that group. But the very act of thinking about it, we joined the autobiographical author/filmmaker as he (thought he) was thinking about the music and its place in the world.
(I won't get into the intricacies of "Bubba Hotep.")
So even this drek, this moronic project could have been subtly adjusted to fool us, especially because it centers on the plastic nature of Elvis-love. I think the exercise would not be worth it except to prove a point in film school. But I think a different edit, different dialog with the same scenes and a remote narration could retool this into acceptable groupieland.
Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.
But you know, it almost could have been not so, because we all have a bit of groupie in us. We allow great latitude to filmmakers who go where we secretly wish we could, perhaps simply because it is forbidden.
Offhand, I can think of three films all seriously damaged that were groupie films that we allowed and even think are pretty good.
One of these you may not know. It was about Gram Parsons, a documentary that was structured as a groupie experience, even down to explaining why there was no sex. (He was chronically too doped up to perform.) It ends with a groupie stealing his body and burning it in the desert. Based on real events, home movies and interviews with the entourage, its almost perfectly designed as an ersatz tour.
Then there's "The Doors." Stone makes flashy but empty movies, but this one resonated because the focus wasn't the suicidal son of a dumb admiral, but on the girl who would give everything just to feel his skin. Its about the only thing Meg's dewy face and manner is good for.
Probably the one that seems the best but is the worst is "Almost Famous" because though it collected the whole audience in a grouping of groupies, and it had the sex with the simpleton girlies, it had the guys as well. This opened things up, because by the very act of watching we were joining that group. But the very act of thinking about it, we joined the autobiographical author/filmmaker as he (thought he) was thinking about the music and its place in the world.
(I won't get into the intricacies of "Bubba Hotep.")
So even this drek, this moronic project could have been subtly adjusted to fool us, especially because it centers on the plastic nature of Elvis-love. I think the exercise would not be worth it except to prove a point in film school. But I think a different edit, different dialog with the same scenes and a remote narration could retool this into acceptable groupieland.
Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.