The Runaways (2010)

2.5

DRAMA

U.S. Release Date: 03/19/10

Running Length: 106 Minutes

MPAA Classification: R (Profanity, Sexual Content, Drugs, Nudity)

Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1

Cast: Kristen Stewart, Dakota Fanning, Michael Shannon, Scout Taylor-Compton, Alia Shawkat, Stella Maeve, Riley Keough

Director: Floria Sigismondi

Screenplay: Floria Sigismondi

Cinematography: Benoit Debie

U.S. Distributor: Apparition

Review by: Carter Moulton

06/18/10

The first image in The Runaways is a puddle of menstrual blood. It’s immediately obvious that Director Floria Sigismondi is going for the gritty, dirty side of rock-n-roll in the mid 1970’s. The next thought, naturally then, is: how will Dakota Fanning (War of the Worlds), one of America’s child-star sweethearts, fit into this biopic about the brief life of the all-female rock band, “The Runaways?"

Fanning, 15 at the time of filming, is convincing as Cherie Currie, the lead singer fo the band, on an emotional level, but her young age—she’s the same age as my little sister—is disturbing. Kristen Stewart (the “Twilight” series) is Joan Jett, the rebellious lead guitarist of the group. The film focuses mainly on their friendship amidst an ever-changing lifestyle of sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll.

Michael Shannon, who steals every scene he’s in—much like he did in Revolutionary Road—plays Kim Fowley, a mascara-wearing madman and record producer. Shannon is a freak of the night as he walks across the club. Spotlights shine, impregnating his face with white light; his eyes are wide and white, contrasted against a blue Bowie-inspired makeup that forms a triangle on the side of his face. Surrounded by young teenagers, Fowley is a jagged figure—like a building in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. He’s an intimidating presence, and Sigismondi depicts this lager-than-life persona successfully as she slowly tracks back with the camera. Fowley gives William Wallace a run for his money.

It’s no wonder the girls get swooped up by his offer of fame and fortune. Before we know it, the girls are on top of the charts—and the world. Cherie keeps her sister and her alcoholic father in the back of her mind as she experiments with cocaine, sex, and ecstasy.

Photo © Apparition

Sigismondi’s film is surely entertaining enough, but it explores gender politics without making much of an argument. “Girl’s don’t play the electric guitar,” says Jett’s guitar instructor; “Rock-n-roll is a blood sport, a sport of men,” says Fowley. Currie doesn’t stand against this social ideology but instead plays into it. Her clothes get skimpier and skimpier until we see her onstage in nothing more than lingerie, and she poses—still at the age of 15—for men’s magazines.

The casting of Fanning is a blessing for an argument concerning how wrong this show-business society is—if such an argument were more forcefully made—and there are other ways of doing so without rewriting history. Fanning does indeed look too young for the part, and watching her trying to be sexy at such a young age is disheartening. Unfortunately, instead of fixating on this exploitation of young females within popular culture, Sigismondi is more interested in showcasing the hardcore, shock-and-awe elements of her film. Now, we're left with Fanning trying to play a metallic seductress. Fanning tries, but she fails to be “hardcore”—especially as she forcefully sings the awful lyrics to the hit single, “Cherry Bomb.”

In the end, The Runaways feels forced as well. It’s trying to be something it’s not. Only Shannon is successful in capturing the truly dark, disturbed side of rock’s underground. The film’s tone, despite Sigismondi’s efforts, is too light, too sweet. We see montages of the girls enjoying life set to female rock anthems. So when we get to the sex and substance abuse—notably when we see the two female leads kissing behind a completely red-tinted screen—there’s an identity crisis that occurs. Perhaps this identity crisis parallels the one of our protagonist; perhaps not. Either way, Sigismondi has made a mildly engaging film that may srike a chord with its audience; it just won't be the one they need to hear.