I had planned on taking the day off from the Bloggery today, but I was drawn in by the odd attention being paid to some new photos of Dakota Fanning on the set of the girl group biopic The Runaways. I guess it fits to end the week with another look at rock and roll pedophile bait, since I already devoted one day to the Chipettes. But it’s not like this is actually the first look at the 15-year-old former child star as singer Cherie Currie. It’s not even the most scandalous. Still, the fact that the media is focusing on Fanning and ignoring the full band shots (this is apparently the first look at all the Runaways actresses, if not the first look at Fanning) is either because people are obsessed with the maturation of a female child star or, due to the near-equal concentration on Kristen Stewart, they’re trying to get traffic from Twilight fans.
Anyway, I’m still waiting for the re-creation of this costume to really spark talk of “kiddie porn,” and I’m still wondering if we’ll end up with a “leaked” shot of the Fanning/Stewart lesbian kiss once that scene is shot. It would rival the Vicky Cristina Barcelona kiss as far as media attention goes. Otherwise, there’s not much reason to discuss these latest images, other than to hope that it makes teenyboppers curious about Iggy Pop.
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Who would you rather hear sing Etta James’ signature tunes, the real deal or Beyonce Knowles? If you prefer the latter, then you’ll want to see Cadillac Records and even buy the film’s soundtrack, both of which feature Beyonce performing a few of James’ songs, including a nearly spot-on copy of “At Last” (listen to it here). Other actors in the film (and on the soundtrack) who do their own singing while portraying legendary music artists include Jeffrey Wright (as Muddy Waters), Mos Def (Chuck Berry) and Columbus Short (Little Walter).
It’s a strange idea to pay tribute to a singer with a biopic or ensemble music historical and then replace that singer’s voice with another, more amateur vocalist. Yet Hollywood does it all the time and, surprisingly, the new performances usually turn out pretty good. Just listen to the following nine actors and actresses who managed to do justice to the artist they were portraying.
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When I received the press release announcing The Film Society of Lincoln Center’s series “Lindsay Anderson: Revolutionary Romantic” (running from 8/15-8/21) I thought, well, that should be a fascinating retro. But then I noticed that Anderson’s quintessential discovery Malcolm McDowell would also be on hand to premiere his and Mike Kaplan’s Never Apologize: A Personal Visit with Lindsay Anderson and I thought, well, that should be…hot!
For over 20 years I’ve had a thing for McDowell – or, more precisely, the proudly nihilistic Alex he brought to life from the notorious Burgess book, if not as much so for Mick Travis, the embryonic Alex he created in Anderson’s classic trilogy. I first saw A Clockwork Orange around the age of ten (note to liberal academics attempting to enlighten their young offspring through art films – Kubrick? Not a good idea) and again later in high school. It was this teenage viewing of McDowell as the violent anarchist leader of a group of hoods, who is ultimately “rehabilitated” by an equally sadistic society, that stuck with me. So much so, that as all the other chicks in my small town dressed as Wonder Woman or Elvira or some similar character with adolescent sex appeal for Halloween, I anointed myself leader of my own band of droogs, eyelash and codpiece included. If you could overlook the raping and pillaging, Alex was one undeniably steamy paradox: a brilliant, sophisticated thug with precise lilting diction and a taste for Beethoven. And I wanted to be a – nonviolent – troublemaker outsmarting evil authority, too!
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