Eddie And The Cruisers
One of the most cherished and popular tropes of rock n roll mythology and lore (especially among older fans) is the concept of the revered and long dead rock star actually having faked his or her own demise, with said person now not only living in anonymity somewhere but also being fully aware of how popular they continue to be and how their untouchable legacy lives on, with the virtual hope among the fans being that the legendary star will choose to reemerge someday to reclaim his or her name, career, and legions of adoring fans. Such fantasies and speculation had become a literal cottage industry for the supermarket tabloid industry when it came to Elvis Presley, with front page stories often casually discussing the current whereabouts and activities of The King himself, but really the theories and discussions can be applied to nearly anyone who is talented and dead, from Morrison to Hendrix to Lennon and even in recent years with rapper Tupac Shakur as well as comedian Andy Kaufman all being said to possibly still be among the living. This 1983 film decided to get right to the heart of what makes these kind of so called ādeath cultsā so intriguing to us by creating a fictional band complete with its iconic, charismatic lead singer whose death had occurred under mysterious circumstances and then run with the idea so completely and thoroughly that the whole thing was actually extended into an entire sequel years later where the much dreamed about moment only spoken of here actually does really happen. Based on a rather dry novel of the same name where it was made very clear that Eddie really IS dead and had a story consisting of the various surviving band members squabbling over the rights and possession of some recently uncovered and previously unheard tapes of Eddie performing (with one of them being a total psychotic who resorts to murder), the movie version was rewritten here to not only remove the thriller elements but to rather add a touch of mystery to the proceedings, coupled with the dramatic overtones of the band membersā nostalgic memories of the times they all had together through flashbacks, but best of all is the filmās depiction of the creative process at work when these guys pool their talents in the effort of putting together a song and all of them contribute their own individual pieces of business. It is through these flashbacks that we meet the enigmatic Eddie Wilson, played by Michael Pare with enough raw emotion that one can readily see why his career continued to stay pretty active throughout the last 30 years while doing different movies with all kinds of budget ranges even as Pare himself dropped far off the A list in Hollywood, and the most surprising thing that we notice is how Eddie in actuality resembles a combination of both Morrison and the still very much alive Bruce Springsteen, due mostly to the tough talking Jersey working class hero vibe that he gives off throughout the film, with the Morrison analogy coming from the idea of studying, writing, and using actual poetry in order to create lyrics and songs for the band to perform, although that aspect is best represented by Frank Ridgeway (Tom Berenger), the humble kid sweeping floors at a bar that the band plays at, eventually joining them as their keyboard player and chief lyricist thus driving home the point that although Eddie as a lead singer and guitar player might have been dynamic, it is the Berenger character (redubbed the āWordmanā) that was the main driving force behind the groupās music (although Eddie is admirably shown always backing him up during creative disputes). In fact, it is Berenger whom we really wind up following for most of the movie, now 20 years later having become a school teacher while being hounded by a pesky reporter (Ellen Barkin) looking to do a retrospective piece on the band in the wake of The Cruisersā recent resurgence in popularity. As far as Pareās Eddie goes, the script deserves credit for not being afraid to not only portray him as a smoldering yet tortured artist, but in many ways as a self centered asshole as well, a devout perfectionist who will tear everyone elseās work up if itās not done just right, all while keeping in mind that the glimpses of Eddie that we get in the film are from the not all that positive point of view flashbacks of the other band members, with the viewer not really being allowed to get a fully rounded feel for the character until the next movie. Which of course brings up the filmās biggest challenge, that of having an original soundtrack of the bandās music that definitively portrays just how āgoodā they actually were, and in that respect, it can be said that the work done here by John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band (with Cafferty himself doing the actual singing for the lip syncing Pare) more than lives up to that reality, with āOn The Dark Sideā (the one song the movie is most identified with) becoming an actual legit top ten hit off the movieās soundtrack album. As said, the mystery aspect of the film concerns the search for the tapes of the bandās second (unreleased) album, with the idea that someone who could POSSIBLY be Eddie is not only ransacking their homes, but also harassing, stalking, and tormenting them on the idea that one of them has just GOT to know where the missing tapes are, although it goes without saying that when the mystery character is finally revealed, the resolution seems to be a little too gentle (unlike the book) for someone who is obviously a creepy, sociopathic, and possibly psychotic misanthrope (based on their actions throughout the film) and thus this whole aspect of the movie weighs down the story quite a bit and even somewhat cheapens the strength of Pareās otherwise impressive portrayal as well. But the real heart and soul of the whole thing is in watching the ongoing feeling out process and interactions amongst the band during the flashback scenes, especially in the way that Pare and Berenger solidify their bond of being āwords and musicā, but also with the other members including Matthew Laurence as Eddieās longest time best friend and bassist who harbors real doubts about their potential for greatness, Joe Pantoliano as the adoring band manager whose mascot like nature and endearing goofiness make him considered to be an almost honorary member, Helen Schneider as the gorgeous and ultra sultry back up singer and tambourine player whose romantic involvement with Eddie winds up getting entangled with Wordman as well, David Wilsonās reliable drummer who also comes to harbor a terrible secret, and Michael āTunesā Antunes (a real life member of The Beaver Brown Band) as the heroin addicted saxophone player. It is an impressive feat on the part of director Martin Davidson to really make the movie come alive during these flashback scenes set in the early 60s only to jolt the viewer (and characters) back to reality whenever we come back to 1983, helping to hammer home the true power of nostalgia and the point in all our lives when things were better until of course we open our eyes and must reacclimate ourselves to the humdrum nature of our own current mundane existence (which is certainly the feeling we get watching these characters in modern times), with the only real spark of hope really being that Eddie (who in a fit of pique had driven his car off a bridge but whose body had never been found) will somehow find a way to resurface and lead their lives back to the so called āpromised landā, which adds just a drop of religious allegory to the mix as well, even if that is negated by the likelihood that Eddieās personal reasons for faking his death and disappearing were all entirely selfish (like the little boy in the playground taking his ball and going home) just as the possibility of how the lost tapes of their second album being found and released would make them all a fortune and essentially serve the same purpose. But just as Eddie (and Wordman) would lament that the creative freedom required by every artist in search of full nirvanic expression must be without fear of any kind of compromise, so must all of us with true artistic ambitions go forward unafraid that there might be those out there who wonāt fully appreciate our own personal contributions to the cultural zeitgeist, and it is that particular theme which keeps this movie continuing to be a major cult classic with a surprisingly sizable legion of devoted fans who understand both its message and the reasons why being a great artist doesnāt always guarantee being a nice, well adjusted personā¦
9/10