I do not want to see Heather Graham play guitar, or going to Los Angeles to try to “make it” before falling on hard times (waiting tables, banging her dealer, etc.). I don’t understand how a film can be ostensibly about “making it” in Los Angeles, but so completely fail to capture anything at all of the hazy vibrancy of the city’s music scene.
I do not want to hear the Brian Jonestown Massacre underscoring every attempt at an affecting moment. I do not want to see junkies glorified.
I don’t want to see a film with a narrative that’s nonlinear out of sheer laziness (“Like holy shit, dude, if we don’t do a second draft of this screenplay this is gonna be just like that Dave Lynch DVD!”)
I can’t recommend a film that barfs up every quasi-bohemian indie flick trope in a leaky bowl, and asks you to spoon it up like soup.
Broken releases in select theaters Oct. 19.