Rock of Ages (2012)

Today marks the passing of my favorite film critic Roger Ebert. Not only were we very simpatico in our tastes, but I always found his commentary (and blogs) to be a joy to read. Put simply, the man had a way with words. Before going on to the review I'd like to share a little anecdote: I was introduced to Roger Ebert through the tv show "At The Movies" with fellow critic Gene Siskel. I found it fascinating how these two could find totally different things to like or dislike about the same film; and I discovered at that time that Roger's view of the idiom echoed my own.

Born and raised in San Francisco I always tuned in to "the little man" and read Joel Selvin's film reviews, even though I often disagreed. After my introduction to the small screen Ebert, I began searching for his written reviews, which I not only found to be more tasty than Selvin's (sorry Joel), but his negative commentary to be less snarky, and more subtle. It then became alchemy - for I knew that if Roger liked a film and Selvin hated it - well, that pretty much guaranteed an enjoyable cinematic experience for me (and yes, they frequently were polar opposites in their reviews).

So now I bid farewell to Roger. I loved your writing style and your eye into film. I don't know who I can trust now... I guess I'll have to continue to read Selvin and, as usual, go contrary to his recommendations. Roger, you will be missed.

Now, on to the review, which I will attempt to flesh out more than usual, in respect for Roger. Sadly the film up for review is Rock of Ages, a Glee/Smash musical with a thin story line wrapped up in 80's rock music anthems.

The story seems so incredibly trite - the typical Oklahoma girl leaves middle America for the bright lights and (hopefully) stardom of LA. Once there, she meets a boy, and gets a job waiting tables in a rock club (The Bourbon Room, a silly reference to the Whiskey A Go-Go). They fall in love, go through the usual misunderstanding that causes a breakup, only to find each other and reconcile by film's end. Sounds familiar, yes?

Of course the schtick of the film is that it is couched within the world of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. This allows for some huge musical production numbers with singers and dancers - all very Smash like - and if you like that kind of thing (which, to a point, I do), you could do worse. I'm not going to comment too much on the film production and direction, which is intentionally (I hope) over the top, like watching a series of early MTV music videos, but will focus instead on the musical production (something I believe to be qualified to do).

The sound is punchy and clean and very well produced, and the vocal talents will surprise you. Unlike Smash, where you can be impressed by the vocal chops but wonder where the "soul" is, here, with the exception of Julianne Hough as Sherrie, the Oklahoma refugee, you get performances that are more grit than glam. It's not that Hough cannot sing, for she shows great range, but that her styling is a bit too "broadway" and while she harmonizes well, her voice is a bit "thin" and "nasal" for a lead singer. Just compare her voice to Mary Blige when the two do a duet - one is truly a lead singer, the other.... Well you get the picture.

Also prominently featured, both as actor and singer, is Tom Cruise as the rock god Stacee Jaxx. Cruise is a marvel here, bare chested, scotch swilling, the embodiment of the SD&RR mantra. Not only is he totally believable as this bigger than life character (and who else has the charisma to pull this off?), but his vocal chops are surprisingly strong. When he decides to dig into a phrase it comes across like he really means it - I just loved his rendition of Bon Jovi's "Dead or Alive".

There are other side attractions that raise this endeavor from stinkyville; including the always irreverent Russell Brand as the Bourbon Room's assistant manager - offering rock bromides and often non-sequiter one liners. His interplay with his boss, club owner Alec Baldwin in a long haired wig, is solid and entertaining.

Well caste as well is Paul Giamatti as Cruise's slimy manager... of course with Giamatti's gift it's hard to think of a role where he would be miscast. Throw in Catherin Zeta-Jones in a quirky performance as the Mayor's wife; a religious nut job echoing Tipper Gore and here rants against "the devil music". Her take on "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" while executed well, is almost embarrassing for it's Borsch Belt over the top sensibility. As her husband, the Mayor, Brian Cranston is mostly wasted here, a character to move the plot along and nothing more.

I firmly believe that director Adam Shankman and writer Chris D'Arienzo knew what they were doing here, so tried to steer clear of the too obvious nature of the storyline and infuse it with enough wink, wink moments to entertain, if not completely satisfy. I got a serious belly laugh when Sherrie gets to meet her idol Cruise. She gushes "oh my god, you mean so much to me - when my hamster died, it was your music that helped get me through". If only there was more of that, and more Cruise as Jaxx, and less of the limpid boy meets girl love story that never really has merit other than a plot contrivance.

I've compared this film to watching an extended MTV video (as I sadly remember those glorious times wherein the film supposedly took place - where the videos were fresh and the idiom new) - as well as comparing it to Smash on the small screen. Truly though, this has the feel of an old time musical, like Oklahoma or South Pacific, where a thin story line allows the actors to break into song at the drop of a hat. Of course this isn't one of the aforementioned musicals, as the songs aren't original, or "broadwayesque". No, this is more kin to the somewhat obscure Turturo film "Romance and Cigarettes" - a spoof on the musical genre that used modern song. At least in the case of Rock of Ages, the songs were actually reproduced and sung by the actors, instead of the actors lip synching over the original versions of the famous songs.

It is said during the film (taking place in the late 80's) that rock is dead. Well, it's not dead yet, but like the rest of the music industry in this age of compressed MP3's and singles, it's on life support - the indie underground scene can't seem to get the kind of traction that the Seattle grunge scene got back in the early 90's, and when DJ's seem to garner the same star treatment that used to be reserved for gifted musicians... ah well - best to savor the memories of my time growing up during the true musical revolution that was the late 60's and 70's.