Lucky Them (***)

Rock and roll is full of legendary figures who flamed out young, victims of their own success. This is one such (fictional) story, but told from the viewpoint of the girlfriend left behind.  Elly (Toni Collette), left with only a cryptic note, has had ten years to wonder whether Matthew Smith jumped off a bridge (the prevailing theory) or simply disappeared (hers).  She’s stayed at the same job, writing barely read stories about little-known musicians for a Seattle magazine in the Rolling Stone mode. To keep that job, she agrees to try to find Smith and write a story about it.

The resulting film is a mixture of road movie, comedy, romance, and character-driven drama, and most of that works pretty well. The love interest and charm is provided by actor-musician Ryan Eggold (The Blacklist). Thomas Haden Church, playing a wealthy eccentric that Elly once dated, supplies much of the comedy and road-trip repartee. An example of his eccentricities is his habitual drink order, a “clean glass,” a bottle of water, and a whole lime. Another is his broad distaste for music.

Smith, who has left behind one album (curiously, Elly has an LP, not a CD of it) beloved by a large cult, is the empty hole that Elly’s life, and the story, centers around. And we do, more or less, find out what happened to him, but you’ll know way ahead of time that this is one of those journey-not-the-destination kind of stories. It’s a very pleasant journey indeed with Collette and her costars, but the climax is still a bit underwhelming. When a movie is structured like a mystery, it’d be nice if we actually cared more about that mystery and found its solution satisfying.

IMDb link

viewed 6/27/14 6:30 pm at Roxy and posted 6/28/14

Rock of Ages (**)

Somewhere there must be rock music fans, folks who likely came of age in the era of Reagan, who do not cherish the age of “classic rock,” or the 1990s grunge-rock explosion, but to that in-between era swept aside by grunge and its cousins. Sure, in this time, the 1980s, there were green shoots of “alternative” rock — R.E.M., the Replacements, even early U2 —but mainstream rock fans, and the characters in this movie —were hearing other sounds. I speak of Journey, and Def Leppard, and Bon Jovi, of course, but also second-tier acts such as Extreme (“More Than Words”), Poison (“Every Rose Has Its Thorn”), and Night Ranger (“Sister Christian”). It was rock at its most theatrical, thus, in that sense, perfect for a    musical. Playwright Chris D’Arienzo gets a screenplay credit in Hollywood’s version of his Broadway hit.

The plot is typical: midwestern girl (Julianne Hough) comes to Los Angeles to make it as a singer, meets like-minded boy, settles for being a club waitress. Yep, same plot as Burlesque, with different tunes. Oh, it’s fun to see Alec Baldwin as the hippie-era refugee running the club, with Russell Brand as his equally hairy sidekick. And Tom Cruise certainly embodies the stereotypically decadent rock star, Stacee Jaxx, he plays. Catherine Zeta-Jones is the mayor’s (Bryan Cranston) wife, a Tipper Gore caricature crusading against heavy metal. Malin Åkerman is a big-haired Rolling Stone reporter. Mary J. Blige, who covers Pat Benatar, is a strip-club owner. They all sing these bombastic songs (“Wanted Dead or Alive,” “I Want to Know What Love Is,” even, egads, “We Built This City”), sometimes as Glee-style medleys, usually trading off vocals. “Sister Christian” is a spontaneous sing-off among bus passengers. It’s mind-bogglingly earnest. But my favorite part might have been when the boy shyly plays the girl the song he supposedly just wrote, and it turns out to be Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing,” after which the girl says, “I can’t believe you wrote that!” Indeed.

Hairspray’s Adam Shankman directs with a similar flair, making 1980s L.A., like his 1960s Baltimore, a little shinier and smoother than the real thing. The pacing is also fine, but other than the idea of employing famous actors to sing straightforward versions of 1980s rock (no pop or R&B), there is nothing original here. (Reprising the stage version’s incorporation of characters addressing the audience might have been a novelty.) The first half is cheesy and rarely witty, although Brand has a good line or two, like one about “hibernating in Margaret Thatcher’s bumhole.” The second half remains cheesy, but at this point seems to be self-consciously so, as if it’s become aware of how dumb it is. I heard the guy behind me describe it after as “so bad it’s good.” My guess is that if you are fond of the songs, you’ll feel the same. If not, this will seem pretty tedious.

IMDb link

viewed 5/30/12 at Ritz East [PFS screening] and reviewed 5/31–7/3/12

The Rocker (**3/4)

Comfortably crafted to appeal to both classic-rock-loving baby boomers and their teen progeny, this comic vehicle for Office worker Rainn Wilson features the NBC star as a once-promising drummer who gets a second chance. Dumped by his band (think of an American Def Leppard) on the verge of stardom, Robert “Fish” Fishman doesn’t like the office, or his job, so much and winds up at his sister’s house when he loses it. Lo and behold, his nephew and a couple of high school friends have a fledgling band. The rest follows in a pattern too familiar to make the movie stand out, the central joke being that Fish is the least mature of the group, longing to trash hotel rooms and emulate rock stars of the pre-Bono era. The comedy benefits from Wilson’s physicality and some good lines given to the band’s crass manager (Jason Sudeikis). Among the kids, Emma Stone stands out as the tough-but-tender guitarist.

IMDB link

reviewed 8/19/08