”Hello, daddy, hello, mom…I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb.”
Standard formula for the music biopic: aspiring musician struggles with impoverished homelife and/or childhood trauma, quickly rises to fame, pisses it away for sex and drugs. Wash, rinse, and repeat.
The Runaways chronicles the formation of the all-girl rock band and follows that exact same path. However, it is far from the type of polished Oscar bait fare you expect from a film like Ray or Walk the Line. It’s grimier and dirtier picture which encapsulates the music scene of the 70’s.
The film begins with its two central characters Cherie Currie (Dakota Fanning) and Joan Jett (Kristen Stewart). Cherie, in full-on Ziggy Stardust gear, lip-synchs to “Lady Grinning Soul” for her high school talent show and is met with the cat calls of her schoolmates. Jett plops down a bag full of change to purchase her first leather jacket. She receives guitar lessons from a condescending instructor who tells her, ”Girls don’t play electric guitar.”
One fateful night, Jett meets up with record producer, Kim Fowley (Michael Shannon), and pitches him the idea for a rock band, all girls, no guys. Together, they spot Currie sultrily sulking in the corner of a club and make her their lead singer. Each girl models their on-stage persona on their respective idols. Jett on Suzi Quatro, Currie on David Bowie. Rounding out the band are guitarist Lita Ford (Scout Taylor-Compton) and drummer Sandy West (Stella Maeve). In real life, the band went through several bassists, but for the film they have the fictional Robin Robbins (Alia Shawkat), a composite of original member Micki Steele (later of The Bangles) and Jackie Fox who refused to sign off on the film.
The Runaways achieve mild success in the States, but find an overwhelming response in Japan where they are mobbed by fans. It’s in Japan that Curie gives her iconic performance, strutting about the stage in nylon stockings and pink & black lingerie. As the band’s tumultuous relationship with Fowley unfolds, we see how unapologetic he is at marketing the Runaways as jailbait sex symbols. Fowley gives them barely enough money to feed themselves on the road (he never travels) and rides them like a drill instructor. Turning a double-wide trailer into a recording studio, he gets local kids to throw feces at the girls to prepare them for hecklers.
Meanwhile, Currie immerses herself into the world of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll to escape the confines of her dead-end suburban life. She has a mom (Tatum O’Neal) who has run off to Indonesia, a perpetually drunken father (Brett Cullen), a sister (Riley Keough) stuck working at a fast-food place. Her descent into addiction threatens to tear the group apart.
The Runaways was loosely based on Currie’s memoirs, Neon Angel, while Jett served as producer. As such, the film focuses almost exclusively on the two. Ford and West are marginalized while Shawkat’s character gets no lines at all. The spotlight shines directly on Currie and Jett with some girl-on-girl action just for the hell of it. Currie is also the only character to get her personal life fleshed out. Other moments are similarly glanced over, such as the genesis of their signature hit, “Cherry Bomb,” which is ad-libbed in only a few short minutes.
Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning do an amiable job in their roles and sing surprisingly decent covers of tunes like “Dead End Justice” and “Queens of Noise.” But, it’s Michael Shannon, donning thick glam rock make-up, who really brings it as the flamboyant and abrasive Fowley. Shannon is definitely one of the best character actors working today, a 21st century version of Christopher Walken.
Floria Sigismondi, a photographer and director of commercials and music videos, makes her feature film debut here. She manages to capture the look of the 70’s even with a low budget though she doesn’t quite have the eye of someone like Anton Corbijn.
The Runaways is a messy movie, but refreshingly so, even if it feels like the Cliff Notes version of the true story.
Rating: **
