The Doors
Oliver Stone’s seminal 1991 rock biopic on the life of Jim Morrison and The Doors is in some ways a fevered fan’s (Stone’s) point of view, in some ways a treatise on how alcohol and drugs will derail the lives of even the most famous and talented, and also a tremendous visual effort with great love and care given to its subject. Stone, as usual, recreates the period of the 60s and its turbulence with great accuracy, getting the details down cold, and also actually managed to get the perfect actor for the role: Val Kilmer became a true icon of acting in his own right with his eerily possessed performance as Morrison, getting the attitude, the inflections, and the spirit of the man in every scene and every shot. Denied an Oscar nomination at the time of release, he has since become so identified as the modern day incarnation of Jim that he has been known to perform live with The Doors onstage from time to time. Much has been made of the fact that the band (particularly Ray Manzarek) didn’t really like the film for the somewhat negative way it portrayed Jim at times, but Stone knew what he was doing crafting a story about a self-destructive rock star, as we marvel at Jim’s talent and genius but yet grieve for the path that he takes himself down, proof positive that his sins of excess and sacrifice should be a lesson learned (but not always heeded) by those who have come after him. In other roles, Meg Ryan is fetchingly sad as Jim’s co-dependent common law wife, Pamela Courson; Kyle MacLachlan does what he can as Ray, and succeeds in showing the near-equal genius of the band’s keyboardist; Frank Whaley (in the only role that he was ever tolerable) does fine as guitarist Robby Krieger, and the fact that Krieger personally coached him in the role is indicative of that; Kevin Dillon as drummer John Densmore is portrayed almost as a voice of reason, not afraid to clash with Jim if he feels that he’s taking things too far; Kathleen Quinlan as the evil witch who led Jim astray at times projects cold yet calculating sex appeal; and Michael Wincott as the producer Paul Rothchild does well also, as he tries to keep Jim focused on making the music. Stone also peppers the movie with lots of colorful cameos and smaller roles, including Michael Madsen, Billy Idol, Wes Studi, Kelly Hu, Josie Bissett, Debi Mazar, Mimi Rogers, Jennifer Rubin, Paul Williams, Crispin Glover (ultra-creepy yet realistic as Andy Warhol), and even himself as Jim’s film professor, along with cameos for real life Morrison contemporaries such as Densmore, Rothchild, Bill Graham, and the witch Patricia Kennealy. The visual techniques and editing Stone employs are second to none, with the peyote trip in the desert being rightfully mindblowing, and the onstage performances (with Kilmer doing his own singing) are as electrifying as they probably were back in the day. Finally there is the music itself, spanning the entire catalogue of Doors history, from the biggest hits to the most obscure, that carry the story along and identify the film as a true labor of love, and not the assembly line product that we’re so used to seeing in projects of this nature. It is encouraged that those not familiar with the band should seek out further books, albums, and releases to get more of the full picture, but on the level of pure filmmaking (right up to the emotional impact of the tragic ending) this virtuoso effort is one of the finest cinematic works of the 20th century…
10/10