"Does death turn you on?"
This is, I think its fair to say, a brave and triumphant rock biopic that dares to be art. The real Jim Morrison was both a genius and a twat, and the film illustrates this perfectly. He would not have enjoyed surviving to the #MeToo movement, which would have dealt a just comeuppance; he was a hopeless addict; he was a two timing bastard with double standards who didn't like it when Pam slept with others; worst of all, he reacted with cowardly denial to the babies he fathered, roving himself less than a man. If you father a child, you love that child with all your heart, or you fail to be a man. As a father who dotes on the wonderful Little Miss Llamastrangler, despite her trying to "teach" me ballet, I have to despise the coward. He was not a mn.
Yet he had a magnificent singing voice, his lyrics were extraordinary and he was (despite contemporary criticism that supposed a long-haired man who fronted a rock an roll band could not be cultured, well-read or talented) a poet of real genius and significance. Morrison was not Bob Dylan: he had a good grasp of poetic structure and rhythm.
He was a genius. He was a wanker. He was probably a rapist. Val Kilmer, in an extraordinary feat of acting, IS him. His performance is magnificent.
The film is at once a linear biopic, with extended footage of gigs, an art flick, with multiple rather successful attempts to simulate a drug-induced haze. There is plenty of selective use of the Doors' transcendent music, which seems to be considered unfashionable by various young fools with no understanding of what makes good art. Kyle Machlachlan is superb as the genius Ray Manzarek, yet Meg Ryan as Pam and Kathleen Quonlan as Patricia are transcendent as his "muses" who were fascinating women in their own right.
I hope, one day, to find a rock biopic as good as this. I shall try more Oliver Stone films, amd try not to be put off by the stupid conspiracy theories of JFK.
