The Runaways is two-thirds of a very good film, the other third is sadly just a watchable standard biopic. It’s a film that starts off running and then hits a disappointing roadblock far down the road. It doesn’t ruin the film though. In fact, The Runaways still happens to be a rather strong feature debut for acclaimed music video director Floria Sigismondi.
Though it be titled The Runaways, it really only follows Cherrie Currie (Dakota Fanning) and Joan Jett (Kristen Stewart). Every other band member is a footnote. If one goes in with that mindset, it’s not bothersome. Currie and Jett are two run-of-the-mill teens of the ’70s before everything they’re thrown into this other world.
Jett aspires to be a rock ‘n roll star while Currie doesn’t know what she wants. When Jett comes across the eccentric record producer Kim Fowley (Michael Shannon) everything changes. Fowley and Jett start to recruit, putting together an all girl rock-band, and it’s Fowley who comes across Currie. He loves her look. From there on they become the rebellious band history knows. Crappy party gigs accelerate to big shows in Japan, where they were apparently the most popular.
The first two acts don’t play it safe. It’s more so a coming-of-age story featuring the standard broken home life subplot and showing all them partying with drugs. That said, it doesn’t feel as contrived as it should at first. Instead, you’re thinking about how this is a young teen doing cocaine, having sex with older men and showing it as a good time. Currie has a horrible life before all this and then when it cuts into the period of rock and drugs, she seems to be having the time of her life. She’s away from her absentee parents and her somewhat understandable but resentful sister. Unfortunately, the film can’t end on a note like that or send a message like the one it seems to be implying at first, which is that teenage angst isn’t a bad thing.
What’s so baffling about the third act is how standard it truly is. For most of the running time the film feels fresh and new, not something that Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story hilariously poked fun at. Then the third act becomes just that. There’s even a scene right out of Almost Famous where everyone is complaining about Cherrie being the star of the band and how she’s the one on the t-shirts. Ironically, while conveying the band’s downfall the film itself becomes a downfall in itself. It’s the point where relationships start to get broken and how drugs are ruining Cherrie. Does all this sound familiar? It should and it’s saddening that a film so good divulges into something we’ve all seen countless times.
When the inevitable downfall comes, it feels rushed. But one could excuse that since the fact is, in real life, it was a fast rise and fall. The Runaways weren’t together for a long time, and it feels like that in the film. It’s abrupt and intended to feel abrupt. The best part about seeing their fall is the reaction from Fowley, who’s portrayed incredibly by Shannon’s take on insanity. Fowley started this band and when they reach the end, he doesn’t care. Why would he? He’s a man who gets off on craziness and turmoil. Shannon makes Fowley the type of guy who’d watch a car crash and burn without doing anything. While Fanning and Stewart are quite good, Shannon is on a whole different level.
Sigismondi has done a series of fantastic music videos with an other-worldly and surreal feel, you’ve most likely seen one or two. Here her style is a bit more tame and less unrelenting. That doesn’t mean there still aren’t some beautifully composed moments, there are plenty. With shooting on Super 16mm, Sigismondi lends the film a grainy detailed texture that makes for a rather beautiful aesthetic. Everything about her take on the ’70s feels genuine, not like a parody or caricature.
One part specifically that must be mentioned: the music. While the soundtrack, for the most part, is excellent there’s also a few questionable music picks on Sigismondi’s part. When “It’s a Man World” comes on as Jett is being turned down because she’s a woman, it’s laughably heavy-handed. Those moments, though few and far between, don’t go unnoticed. It’s where the film loses subtlety in the worst way possible.
While this does fall into the trappings of generic biopic cliches when it comes to the final act, The Runaways still manages to stand apart from most music oriented films out there. If the third act didn’t fall apart this easily could have been something far superior. But, thankfully, there’s still enough greatness here to make for an entertaining and solid coming-of-age film.