Doesn't Run Far Enough

Rating: 5/10 (17 April 2010)

A music video director with a stunning visual eye (Marilyn Manson's 'The Beautiful People' being a standout), Floria Sigismondi brings a fitting, drug-hazed 1970s aesthetic to "The Runaways," a pseudo-biopic of the the titular, Joan Jett-founded band. Now: I like Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart, and it was their presence (as Cherie Currie and Jett, respectively) that attracted me to this film; and while I appreciate their willingness to add some shades of gray to their resumes, "The Runaways" doesn't give us much reason to care about these young rock icons who grew up way too fast. Currie is presented as a sweet suburban girl who eventually succumbs to the allure of sex, drugs, and rock n'roll; Jett is brash tomboy with a grizzled edge, and the film's central problem is that these people aren't very likable. Some filmmakers can pull off feats of cinematic gold via the use of morally corrupt and/or apathetic characters (Alex Cox attempted something similar with "Sid & Nancy"), but Sigismondi's adherence to the lowlights of Currie and Jett renders "The Runaways" a niche curio that might attain cult status, but never mainstream acceptance (which, come to think of it, is essentially Jett's mantra throughout the film). Also problematic is the film's slavish reliance on generic rock-biopic tropes: we get the disorienting, drugged-out transitions; the moral quandary of Currie's suburban life; the token bi-curious make-out scenes; the obligatory "break-up" where Jett goes berserk in a recording studio; and a resolution of bittersweet drama, followed by a textual "Where are they now?" before the credits roll. It's something of a shame: for long stretches, "The Runaways" had me engaged and visually awestruck (not to mention amused by a wildly over-the-top performance from Michael Shannon), but the nagging notion that I'd been down this road before, and better, left me cold.