IMI PARE RAU











{Thu, 1 February, 2007}   A dramatization of the founding of Buddyhead.

Alpha brah… So, the film was not what I expected, from the trailer. Not that they are, usually. But even Timberlake appeared ready to pop with his thespian skill. (Yes, indeed, his is one of the only bright spots in this feature, that said.) But this film, for the parts — Willis! Sharon Stone! Cassavetes’s kid! That dude from the OC that was in Girl Next Door! — lacks coherence. From first reel to last, this biography is composed in a scattershot mode, the tone never more than mildly jittery, no matter if the scene before you is goth kid reluctantly digging a grave or pot dealer begging same sex fellatio. For such an heinous series of events, in authorized reproduction, the film is quite blah.

 … But, that’s just it. Whether they meant to — they didn’t — the cast & crew have created the film Buddyhead: In the beginning… From the aforementioned goth kid (a dead-ringer for Travis Keller, ne sais pas?) to the braggadocious dealer behind the protection of two dobermans & two or three sycophants (Joe Cardomone; the Icarus Line?), we see the pieces that merged to become the “infamous” webzine of early second willenium vintage. Oh, their gossip was so incisive! Ha, their rock guitars shredded where most post-Nirvana rock bands tweeted! But were they, now? Not so much. They lied thru their teeth & preened their way to the status of lap-dog of the nation’s rich but insecure celebri-class (Reznor, Maynard Keenan). Theirs was nothing but the pose of the goth boy who flirted outrageously with the Valley “tart’s” plastic mother, the urban vernacular spouting but daddy’s-boy, really, personage encarnated by Timberlake.

There is truth in this movie, then. Just not what Cassavetes meant to detail. (Which, I suppose, makes Alpha Dog that much more like Buddyhead Gossip.) I recommend this for any post-scene — or, more hopefully, never-scene — moviegoer, therefore.

 As to Timberlake: his evocation of post-Nirvana suburban gangsterism, with the veneer of bravado (a pistol, some weed, a girl with low self-esteem that’s willing to fellate your immature willy), but the fragility of the meekest Vagrant artist, is pitch-perfect. That is why his is the brightest star, going away from this film.

Final grade: F (viewed as the director intends); B (when seen as a parable of present-day suburbo-indie subculture).

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Neal says:

Ha. Reminds me of our friends running the Icarus Line and Paris Tx out of town on a rail after a house show one time. Not just sycophants but psycho in general.

Good ridance to the Buddyhead, even if Aaron was the only nice one at that show.



Tim says:

When do we talkt about something i understand.



Liam says:

What drugs are you on? That made zero sense.



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