Of course I would be remiss if I didn’t touch on my latest foray into DVD viewership.
Given that my last few posts have been political in nature, it probably wouldn’t hurt to lighten things up before I post the next rant born of the irritated mind of a charter member of the vast right wing conspiracy.
Early this week when I was really, really, really, upset, saddened, and generally pissed off, a new DVD from the mailer service appeared via snail mail.
That’s right.
Not only do I continue to provide a lifeline to a dying medium for watching flicks, I also continue to foster the need for the US Postal Service.
These are the same people who litter my communal mailbox with flyers from the grocery store, a fledgling furniture store, and bill collectors who fail to acknowledge that I take care of my bidness with them on line.
Non-sequitur which has become so stereotypical of this website aside, I finally watched one of those DVDs last night. The film was Rock Of Ages.
As you may or may not know, I’m not the biggest fan of musicals save for a few. All things being equal, the only reason I even bothered watching this one was the fact that the story is based around events which took place in 1987.
I remember 1987. I remember the music I was listening to and the brilliant mullet I sported atop my skull. Why not take a sentimental stroll to the days when the bald spot between my shoulder blades hadn’t moved to the top of my head yet?
So I watched it.
In general, it’s a pretty generic story of boy meets girl and both aspire to be stars. Sure there’s plenty of other stuff going on like the local chapter of the Moral Majority trying to shut down a rock and roll bar which is owned a guy who has tax problems. The film is additionally accented by a rock star played by Tom Cruise. The rock star is also stereotypical, and reminds me of what would happen if Jim Morrison showed up 10 years later than he did.
I took two issues with the premise of the story.
The first issue revolves around the composition of the song Don’t Stop Believin’. The plot line had the boy writing the song for the girl. The finale had the boy, the girl, and Cruise’s character singing the song before a crowd of computer generated thousands.
On principle alone, that song could not have been written in 1987 and survived. Yes, I know the song transcends time, space, and the space-time continuum, but one of the reasons it does so is because it appeared in 1980 or 1981 (don’t feel like looking it up right now) when it was supposed to.
Case in point, if a group of mop-tops from Liverpool introduced a song called “I Want To Hold Your Hand” today, would it get the traction it did all those years ago?
No.
The same thing applies for Journey’s signature.
For all we know, that particular song helped to inspire other songs which appeared in the film.
As such, I categorically reject the premise that the song was written by young lovers in Los Angeles in 1987. For the record, I’ve already offered up the origins of that particular masterpiece.
Here’s my other beef with the film.
Russell Brand and Alec Baldwin pretty much reside at the top of my fecal roster of world class doosh bags. Each of them appear there on their own individual merits.
Both of them appear in the film, and at one point realize that they love each other.
Ok, fine. If they love each other, I have no problem with that. I’ve been of the opinion they could go *expletive deleted* themselves for years. Why not do it together?
For the love of all that is holy, why on God’s green Earth did they have to come to their realization while absolutely ruining a perfectly good REO Speedwagon song?
