This biography of Joan Jett is an insight into rock and roll in the 70's. Naive teenagers with modest talent but a huge amount of energy burst into the music scene and get damaged in the process, some more than others. Very sad as it is a true story. I didn't enjoy it that much, I think it would appeal to teenagers, particularly those of a rebellious nature.
The film is watchable, but for a UK audience there is one major flaw: this band is unknown in the UK and is a really minor band, made significant only by Joan Jett's hit I Love Rock n Roll, and the fact it's an early girl rock group. That worthiness of a ferminist story does tend to spoil things. Films like Control (about Joy Division) or Sex n Drugs n Rock n Roll about Ian Dury mean much much more to a British audience.
However, it's still entertaining and I was happy to discover more about Joan Jett's origins. Never heard of Cherie Currie before, and only heard the name of the band not the music (but now know where the Go-gos and the Breeders got their influence from) Mike Shannon as the mad manager Kim is suitably bonkers and pervy, and the scenes in Japan are hilarious. I wonder if Japanese schoolgirls really are like that!
The Runaways never made the UK charts so the appeal of this fictionalised biopic may be limited. In fact, they were only ever big in Japan. Their impact on pop culture is mostly due to their status as a proto-all female rock & roll band, sort of a mid-to-late '70s link between Suzi Quatro and the Go-Gos. But far more scuzzy.
Their rudimentary sound begins in glam and ends in punk. Most of the interest is the west coast vibe with the California sun-flare and suburban teens from broken homes who drift into the alternative scene about the time Bowie faded into The Sex Pistols. There's a decent soundtrack, including The Stooges and The Ramones.
The Runaways only really had one song- Cherry Bomb- which we hear many times. Dakota Fanning (Cherie Currie) and Kristen Stewart (Joan Jett) are credible, including their youth as the band were not much more than unsupervised teenagers let loose in a squalid arena of exploitation, booze, speed and knee-tremblers.
It's a familiar rise and fall, loosely based on Cherie Currie's memoir. Yet, it's also unusual, because for teenage girls in rock this was a journey without maps. The story runs out on the hour, but until then it's worthwhile for the boomer-nostalgia and the vicarious buzz of authentic-feeling sleaze. They were lucky to get out alive.