By Julie Denice Griffin
When the world slips you a jeffrey, stroke the furry walls. Maybe I'm in heaven with the furry skies above. Let me stroke your furry walls of love.
One day you are a famous rock star whose small time life you counted as you knew not what. A man headed for the real kind of fame, the kind that values both heart and family and others, as even though values change, still some bands like Drivin' Rain. Of Drivin' Rain ~ Only a very rare kind of band, has enough nirvana to satisfy a certain level of the sheer joy of the raw desire to entertain like this one does. And with no holds barred, to thus overide the need to assume the quest to bow down to a lack of entertainment value coupled with a quality heretofore unknown.
The band performs with two of the Cinderella as Cheap Thrill on October 5th at Pitter's Bar in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. And yet watching some concert videos, just like them, even Poison still even most recently did not lack the most wondrous gall as well to say, Bless You St. Louis during one concert here. It is good for a rock star to know that standing on the mountain top means always having to think loving thoughts of the little people down below. After all, a whole pack of carnal wolves who stand on haystacks and howl and don't mean much, but the spirit of the independent wolf who fights for and not against you is a whole another and internationally credible story still. Famous, and just like love might mean you have to say you are very sorry, famous does not always mean what you think it means. What you think that means is something that the star of the film here seems to address finitely, and with every inch of his character at stake, he goes all out to put on the ritz, and does it with more finesse' than some very seemingly established aficondos of the trade, and with all of the humility of the boy next door, and the manners of the combined learned of the elegant world of hobnob royalty, and bellies up politely enough with a rare modicum of pedigree with a certain and yet satisfying distinction.
The deep emotional turmoil which pursues finding a way to get one special rock star to The Greek although honestly and yet only at the very beginning of the first stretch of the tract, seems to bother his special friend entrusted to the capacity of the keep and care of the star, and then only on several different levels. However, and since none seem to deal with his various addictions, all of which many may find more attractive than ludicrous, Aldous (Russell Brand), who plays the billion dollar rock star of the film does seem to maintain more than contain the distinct intellectual ability and capacity to address why all of these things, which some may address as mere distractions, an absolute must for his very life. So, even a rock star knows that no boundaries whatsoever does not work any more than showing no kindness to no one or to anyone ever whatsoever.
The film here, adorable at a lot of different points of scenario, also demonstrates a cross section of popular rock star personae. Some more obvious inuendo of Hollywood more than others, and even every bit of the trait of some more stereotypical assumptions regarding rock stars from every national or international protocol, until it seems that at times, everything equal otherwise stays unsame while at the the same time, the sum total formulae to all combine together to produce one indemic star, and even looking upon Russell Brand after watching the film just once makes it hard to keep from laughing out loud. Unlike what any band dead or alive wants anyone at The Whiskey to ever do over the serious evening of a musical review, the rock comediene here not only fully promotes, but also likely laughs along in a secret ecstsasy of those initial starting, middle and latter good reveiws rolled in, and also as the memory tracks of such upbeat and ongoing humor tend to impress hard and run entertainingly deep forever.
Therefore, the typical dry freudian approach of literary psychoanalysis, difficult enough at times to discern the use of for films easier picked about by an already disected critique of film down the avenue of scholarly dissemination seemed a different kind of a challenge at best here. The actual therapeutic life of most rock stars seems like an great promotional advantage, and even as a great pandomonium similar to that of the Abbey Road walk. Even thinking about such things brings the idea of the movie, Get Him To The Greek to the kinds of heads up ideal that double or let alone babysitting any rock star a challenge. Just as unlike the real life star of the film, he does not want to drink, and yet the agent of the plot life for the story of this must keep his charge lit up with champagne and other advertised sweet delights, at least if not just enough just to get him to his presumed pre-destined destination.
But few gigs bring on any more than the most subtle of depression for Aldous, outside of losing his relationship with Jackie Q to an older and less attractive man, personality included, than that oft agonizing wait in-between rock concerts. As the film clearly portrays, it is the venue of the performance time as a sum total whole that every singer and musician of any substance at all looks forward to, and in deep fact lives for more than even that special and varied tasty sweet treats that McDonald's or one of those other and sundry fast food places sometimes manage to buff up with. And while others stand around and make fast and brief innuendo about the album of the three-year running of the oft misunderstand global album awards system, Aldous the rock star endemic of the film uses the negative posterity reflected around African Child as the truth about the strength of his music therein. His African American promoter teaches everyone including his mother to love the album, and of course while controversy surrounding the work as a comparison to the apartheid to say the least, still as most promotions of rock-n-roll, it just does not seem to matter as for this veranda of sound delight and and musical note, any news is good news, and all publicity the same.
I'm crying out in vain like a little African child, trapped in me. There's a little African child trapped in me. Imagine an African white Christ from another part of space and time, queries Aldous during an infomercial for homeless or hungry orphans of the country. The realms of space which inhabit famine and war though do at times seem to consume some audience members while freeing others to an even greater capacity to praise their idol. At another place and at another time, a lot of New York young women and housewives at the outdoor morning talk show there seem to thank Aldous for singing to them about and even bringing them such great pleasure regarding the clap. X-rated things like this exhume most successful rock stars and even in a most wondrous way. Saying it is only fun and it really is, most things do not mean what they mean. And yet sometimes for those other religious, who even they seem to at least secretly crave fun at times, they do.
"This is why we delay flights. For this." The party however it comes runs across even a more global interterrestorial likeness as everyone everywhere seems to like the idea of fun. The coffee break. The time for a vacation is all anyone ever really wanted. Aaron in short helps Aldous as well to find out how to enjoy how to make the young girls cry and the housewives sigh. "Don't sleep so much," advises Aldous of his business manager in the interrum. He seems to own a certain wisdom about life and living not readily available to the normal world. Missing out on important life events after all, he even as he, the partying rock star of the movie knows that in order to live life to the fullest, and all uneccessary and live the drama of the slice of the populate as problems only, he should take more stimulants and face a lot less depression.
A far cry from the Patty Smith biography, We Were Just Kids, or is it? Her relationship with artist Robert Mapplethorpe, although because of the well-written way of the book seemed something secret or before unexplored, the Haite Ashbury community of the stomping grounds of what they went and what they experencied only seemed to add the kind of flavor and the kind of excitement that the Aldous of the film here wants everyone to know about. Of course, according to the story line, nothing says happy like jumping into a swimming pool rooftop with all of your clothes on, unless of course it is your telephone sending cell phone calls to your girlfriend about the good times back home. The glorious satire of the state of the art, second only to his covert hip hugger jeans, experience only seems to try itself out as he takes the chance to call his girlfriend on the telephone, he turns his feet inward like a child who has nowhere else to go. And everything he ever even once thought or supposed he was seems to fly right out the front door.
Other scenes too risque' to mention may include some rather funky requests, but not one of which do not seem par for the course for this kind of a lifestyle. Aaron is a man who does seem to inevitably know how to close the door behind himself neatly. How invariably as well his portrait of informational devise to get Aldous satisfied and both somehow later quelled , there are times when just getting the royal star to Las Vegas, Nevada seems a lifelong quest. But finally the holy grail of the mission brings Aldous to the edge of his general bio, and the real star emerges onstage and with a preparation so great, everyone knows that the hours of personal life behind the scenes meant the exhilliaration for the provision of the moment of an hour of his great pleasure.
Perhaps it really is like Aldous is saying it is, "Your mouth is smiling, but your eyes look all sad." His business manager does not really seem to be able to put his whole self into the latest and yet fully ensuing after hours hangover at hand. And yet at the same time, it seems as if the film is saying that it really is a crime to miss enjoying even one small moment of life, agony included. Aaron thus learns how to support him by giving the fans all they want and then some and then some more too. And just like those who work for what seems like days on sets and on the road and even do without the regular creature comforts of life and living, the dinner hour never became so delightful as when Russell Brand used his formal debut of this type of film to both expose who the senses dulled really addressed. The key theme being that if I can make it through the night, that you can make it through the night.