You Live In Terror Of Not Being Misunderstood.

You know what? I'll stay outside and keep an eye on your expectations for you.

On Thursday, my wife and I were halfway through Crazy Heart when we shut it down for the evening. The next day, Velvet Goldmine showed up in mail. It was looking like we were going to have a little music-based movie marathon on our hands. Not quite. She fell asleep early, so I was forced to start Goldmine on my own. First she marries me, then she misses out on this one? Talk about lucky. If only she'd played the lottery...

So, I basically hated this movie. It is frickin' work to make it to the end of this one - serious work. Sure, I started it entirely too late (just before midnight), but I'm not sure it matters. It is so long, so ridiculous and intermittently awful, I don't know where to begin. Actually, the beginning was my favorite part. I was still happy then.

Since I don't think this poster gives you the greatest heads-up, let me boil the plot down for you. Velvet Goldmine is some sort of weird love-letter to the glam-rock kala of the 70's. The story focuses on three fictitious icons of the era, Jack Fairy, Curt Wild and poster-boy, Brian Slade (aka Maxwell Demon). Throughout the 124-minute runtime, most of these characters will sing obnoxiously awesome songs (if you could get Google translate high, this is the shit it would come up with) and have sex with one another. Buried in that man-sandwich is a tale of a reporter (an oddly, super-effeminate Christian Bale) researching a staged murder. I didn't research the specifics of the plot when I added this to my queue. Frankly, I needed a V movie. And the cast. On paper, the cast f--king rules.

A few more feathers and this would've been ridiculous.

You know, I'm not really a fan, but I respect David Bowie. I'm assuming this movie is loosely based on some of the shit he did with that whole Ziggy Stardust character. But seriously, I've never understood the allure. The music is weird as f--k and the accompanying visuals make me want to fight something. I'm not even sure if it's a person, really. I actually want to punch the idea in the balls.

Let's just get to the glitter-covered Yays and the feathery Boos, I should've just re-watched V for Vendetta style.

Does Courtney Love find this guy attractive?

Yaaaay!

• Everybody delivers solid performances. I'll throw some extra love to Toni Collette and Eddie Izzard.
• With horrible accuracy the glam-rock kala is recreated perfectly. 
• The music, even though it goes on way too long, is pretty sweet at times. 
• It ended. There was a time where I thought it wouldn't. Crisis averted.

 Booooo!

• Everyone is dressed like my mom. Everyone.
• Let's just say that Obi-Wan whips out his lightsaber for a three-way duel. His opponents? Decency and My Enjoyment.
• Every woman in this movie sucks. Not in a cool way, either.
• I sort of hate Jonathan Rhys Myers' face. And this movie doesn't. At all.
• Though I like the song, I've always hated the video for The Killers' Mr. Brightside. Imagine if it were two hours long, about a guy instead, and you'd have Velvet Goldmine. Yeesh.

Hey, by all means, tell me that I'm an idiot and that this is a masterpiece. Do it. But there's a catch. You have to explain how the Hell you came to that conclusion. Good luck, you glittery bastard.

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