Sunday September 5th 2010
With it’s lookie-likee casting and amazingly straightforward title (hit single Cherry Bomb might have been a better choice given that they play it in its entirety about a dozen times), The Runaways didn’t look like it was going to revolutionise the world of rock biopics. And it doesn’t. But it is quite good.
It condenses significant events to an extent that makes Ray look like a masterpiece of subtle storytelling, so yes MY NAME’S JETT, JOAN JETT and you’re a old-fashioned music teacher who tells me that GIRLS DON’T PLAY ELECTRIC GUITARS but FUCK YOU, THE MAN and then we audition CURRIE, CHERIE CURRIE and in the audition we also write CHERRY BOMB, CH-CH-CH-CH-CHERRYBOMB and she JOINS THE BAND and SINGS CHERRY BOMB ALL IN THE SPACE OF 3 MINUTES. It’s exhausting.
Obviously, Michael Shannon is the best thing about any given movie, but Kristen Stewart is as good as ever and manages to go the entire 106 minute runtime without biting her lip, which is definitely something to be proud of. And Dakota Fanning, who I’ve unequivocally hated for the best part of ten years, is entirely decent.
It’s miles too long and doesn’t know when to shut up, but The Runaways is too much fun to really do any damage to the world.