[yasr_overall_rating]
After being discovered at a music competition, two young famers find themselves living the rock star life. As their national tour becomes a massive success, they begin to lose track of their true selves until a tragic accident brings everything back into focus.
Once in a blue moon, a film comes along that is so adherent to its genre’s tropes, it’s baffling. Christopher Showerman’s rock biopic, “Radio America,” is a low-budget example of such a film, earnestly attempting to emulate every stereotypical underdog-rise-to-fame story ever made, from “Country Strong” to “Rock Star.”
An avalanche of clichés smothers us from the get-go: two young hillbilly boys, sporting overalls, plaid shirt and John Deere hats, play the guitar out in the cornfields. It really doesn’t get any more “country” than that. The child acting is so bad, it comes as a relief that within minutes, a savvy pan ages the boys a decade or so; now in their twenties, Dave (Christopher Alice) and Eric (Jacob Motsinger) sneak in to rock concerts, dreaming of making it big.
One day, while they’re tending to their livestock, their friend (and Dave’s object of affection), Jane (Kristi Engelmann), swings by to let them know about an upcoming Battle of the Bands. The boys agree to audition – but only if Jane agrees to be their manager. They buy new guitars and hire a drummer, Donny (Wayne Bastrup).
Cut to: they are signing a deal with a sleazy record label honcho, Simon Weinreib (played quite terribly by the film’s writer/director Christopher Showerman, wearing shirts so silky and shiny, one can almost catch the camera’s reflection in them). A live performance on the local Radio America station showers the band with immediate success. Before they know it, The Rockness Monster (yes, seriously), later shortened to just “Monster”, are performing in front of crowds consisting of 30,000 fans (15 of which seemed to actually show up on set). A quick rise to national fame, infidelity and heartbreak, arrogance and greed, and an unexpected death – all the prosaic elements of a rock biopic are here, delivered clumsily.
Where do I start? There are too many fundamental missteps to count. The script – the “backbone” of any film – is predictable, sometimes incoherent, and filled with ridiculous lines (“You are a cockless monster” is one of the gut-busting punch lines; “You’re in Washington.” “D.C.?” “State!” is another example of the film’s polished dialogue; or my favorite: “He’s gone! I’m all that’s left. But I still love you.”).
Cinematographer Terrance Stewart fails to evoke a true country/rock vibe, despite all the cornfields, cows and overalls. I see what he was aiming for: a delicate balance of warmth and nihilism – but his imagery fails at displaying either. Jessie S. Marlon’s editing also leaves a lot to be desired: the transitions are wonky, there are countless fade-outs, and the film’s flow often stumbles.
Showerman’s struggles to elicit decent performances out of the amateur cast – including himself – are painfully evident. The characters never have room to develop, so their relationships, particularly the love triangle, feel fabricated. In fact, the leads look stoned, which probably made it easier for them to get through this shoot, but doesn’t do their dialogue exchanges any favors.
Most crucially, the music feels cheap and inauthentic – especially the grating titular track. Some scenes verge on the “so-bad-it’s-good” realm, especially the making of the “Radio America” music video, supplemented by a montage of farmland – and horrid, horrid singing (think low-rent Nickelback). It’s the most unintentionally funny film since Angie and Brad recent frolic “By the Sea” – a wildly different creature, mind you, but equally earnest and equally ridiculous.
“Risky Business” is another musical highlight (the lyrics are almost worth hearing for their sheer ludicrousness… almost), the umpteenth montage showing the boys livin’ that rockstar life, which apparently involves going into the wrong hotel room by mistake, playing air guitar, sleeping with groupies (duh, can’t leave that out), and signing autographs outside lonely supermarkets. I loved the bit where Jane busts Dave in the middle of an orgy, and he runs after her, exclaiming, “It’s not what you think!”
Also, what’s up with all the DVDs, CDs and CD players? Was this film made in 1998 and shelved for 17 years? Simon’s abrasively silky shirts and wide, colorful ties certainly support that theory.
Read MacGuirtose, the actor playing English Joe (whose exact role remains unclear to me), is a sight to behold, overacting as if he stumbled in from the set of SNL. If I had to name one highlight, it would have to be the practical joke that the band members play on English Joe about midway through the film. It involves a lot of duct tape and a loudspeaker, and cuts at just the right time. The ending, with its suicide attempt and mending of a broken guitar, also comes close to approaching true poignancy – it’s just that the events leading up to it haven’t earned our investment, so it’s not as resonant as was oh-so-clearly intended.
I can’t fault the film’s grand ambitions, but this is a case where budget limitations, along with a basic lack of film continuity and character development, really bog down the entire project. You’ll be better off re-watching the sanitized-but-infinitely better visual rock ballad “Almost Famous” – an obvious inspiration for “Radio America.” Which leads me to a side-note: was Christopher Alice cast based on his resemblance to Patrick Fugit?
For more information about the movie please visit the Official Website
