“Almost Famous” (Directed by Cameron Crowe, 2000)

The uncoolest of us rock fans can only imagine what life would be like on the road with our idols. Cameron Crowe’s “Almost Famous” gives a semi-autobiographical snapshot of this fantasy, taking us on the tour bus in a 1970s rock ‘n’ roll adventure. An entertaining and seemingly honest cinematic depiction of rock culture, “Almost Famous” is a born crowd-pleaser complete with Crowe’s amusing-yet-believable script and performances from a sublime cast.

The film is lead by protagonist 15-year old William Miller as he stumbles into the chance of a lifetime: to spend a few weeks on the road with his favorite band, Stillwater, and write an article about them for “Rolling Stone” magazine. Throughout his struggles, William gets tossed in a love triangle, finds support from famous “Creem” rock critic Lester Bangs, and gets caught up in where his true allegiance lies: to his new famous friends or his journalism career.

The script is dripping with cornily charming quips that have undoubtedly been quoted in many obnoxiously pretentious Facebook statuses. However, Crowe still manages to make the poetic lines collectively feel real. Most resonating (though dangerously close to becoming cheesy) was the fictionalized version of critic Lester Bangs’ phone conversation with William about staying true to your dorky self in the life of rock criticism: “The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool.”

Even more memorable from “Almost Famous,” however, were the movie’s remarkable characters. Though all actors were impeccably casted, two transcended above the rest. Kate Hudson gives what is arguably the most charismatic and emotional performance of her acting career as band-follower Penny Lane, the girl at the center of the movie's love triangle. Frances McDormand (“Fargo”) also brilliantly portrays William's mother—she perfectly illustrates a mother struggling to find the balance between smothering her children and giving them their freedom.

The film pays lip service to a few music-related issues: the struggle between commercial acceptance and remaining true to one's art, and the difficulties faced by band members who constantly wane in and out of friction with each other. Being a daughter of a bigwig in the music business who has spent most of his adult life on tour with famous rockstars, I have experienced first-hand the truly confusing mess the industry can create of a person. Upon entering the music business, a forth wall starts to dissolve that used to block the mysticism of the rockstar lifestyle. They are now coworkers in a sense, and along with them, everyone wants to be your friend. But eventually, the truth of the business is uncovered—it is a world full of jealousy, deceit, reputations, wealth and most importantly, fame, so much so that in order to succeed there is pressure to follow suit in the corrupt pathway. Crowe definitely brings this ugliness of the industry out—perhaps not enough—exposing the back-and-forths in William's mind as he begins to wake up to his heroes' humanity and realize their blemishes.

Though constantly entertaining, “Almost Famous" begins to lose momentum towards the close of the film. The end is dragged out far too long, leaving the audience wondering which tearful embrace will be the last. Also, the script unsurprisingly starts to lose authenticity in its Hallmark-card sendoffs.

But this being said, the movie as a whole stands as an excellent film on all accounts. From the deliciously sentimental script, wonderfully talented actors, and exceedingly truthful depiction of the music business and rock criticism, “Almost Famous” is a movie that—though including the necessary elements of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll—you’d happily watch with mom.

Lady Gaga, "Born This Way" (Interscope, 2011)

 

Lady Gaga has no fears. Headstrong in creating her first album boasting about her nonexistent fame and popularity, her predictions eventually proved true by creating a massive fanbase by which she addresses as her “little monsters.”

Her equality-seeking music has become a frontier in gay rights, though she speaks out against everything from racial discrimination to high school bullying. Gaga even delivered an incredibly moving and unforgettable “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” rally speech as she screamed her analogy that, “Equality is the prime rib of America,” referencing a dress she wore to the MTV Video Music Awards that was made out of cuts of steak.

Someone so deeply philosophical, revolutionary and innovative paired with a remarkable musical talent has the tools to create extraordinary music to shake our shallow and auto-tuned society, but on her sophomore album “Born This Way,” Lady Gaga creates a disappointingly hokey album that feels rushed and borderline parodied.

Undeveloped lyrics, such as in “Bad Kids” “I’m a twit…and I’m proud of it,” make the album feel tossed together with an awkward mess of a thousand ways to say ‘it’s cool to be weird,’—not to mention the multitude of languages forcibly sprinkled throughout. The words, “Don’t be a drag, just be a queen” on the title track compellingly paired with a Madonna-like melody creates an phony stereotypical match to a 1980’s pop record because all gays are into drag queens and, like, love Madonna. And sparkles.

There is no excuse for this, Gaga! You are capable of much better (see EP “The Fame Monster.”) It doesn’t matter that you tweeted the deeper inspirations behind each of your songs as clarification—were we supposed to assume this record is about striving to succeed though tough times in New York, or the inspiration taken from your Grandpa? Because the drinking-lots-of-beer and “I want your whiskey mouth all over my blonde south” lyrics were as convincingly deep as your hair is naturally blonde.

Sonically the album sounds just as reckless; with crushing disco beats, over-the-top guitar solos and an attempt to include Dubstep undertones everywhere creates a mess of grade-school basement DJ trials combined with a preachy Whitney Houston record. A classic flaw in this album, as seen in many of such talented female piano-playing vocalists, was that it was well over-produced; the true-core talent Gaga has underneath the synthesizers is best showcased when paired with just a piano.

But the closest we’ll get to this unpretentious Gaga is on the album’s best song, “Yoü and I.” With a somewhat-dorky country flare, this song is the only break from the thick basslines and is perfect for a car-stereo indulgent sing-along.

Also, if extracted from the context of its fuzzed counterparts, “Government Hooker” stands as the other one of the album’s guilty pleasures. This track, about Gaga’s pretend affairs with JFK, displays catchy hooks and funky post-disco and Casio-tone samples that make the track feel actually paid-attention-to.

Collectively, the dorky lyrics and awkward backings topped with the worst possible album cover, that alone looks like a joke, is apt to leave devoted fans feeling jipped and newcomers uninterested. If Gaga had spent as much creative energy and time pushing musical boundaries as she has social ones, “Born This Way” would have been much more successful.