Late, great character actor Ray Sharkey gives a sensationally dynamic, throughly brazen and completely on the money bravura performance as shrewd dude late 50's rock'n'roll hustler/producer/ manager/songwriter/all-around shyster sleaze-ball extraordinaire Vinnie Vacarri, who's got everything but the requisite good lucks to cut it as a teen scream sensation. Resigned to this bitter fact, Vinnie instead decides to groom callow, but promising handsome lads Paul Land and Peter Gallagher into fluffy bubblegum teen pop idol sensations so he can vicariously live through their monumental successes. Vinnie transforms raunchy slob Land into an irresistibly dreamy, well-mannered Adonis. Vinnie pulls off an even more miraculous metamorphosis with Gallagher, a klutzy busboy who under Vinnie's masterful tutelage becomes a devastatingly hunky stuff muffin on wheels. Alas, Vinnie's ego and over-controlling nature skyrocket along with his newfound popularity and teeming bank account, leading to inevitable conflicts and Vinnie's painful downward spiral back into the dismal obscurity he started from.
Loosely based on the real-life story of legendary South Philadelphia pop music impresario Robert Marcucci (the man who discovered both Fabian and Frankie Avalon; he gets a "technical adviser" credit for this picture), Taylor Hackford's terrifically tart rock bio is more notable not for what it does, but for what it bravely and commendably avoids doing. Although set in the much sentimentalized 50's, Hackford's boldly unromanticized movie certainly isn't some plasticky rosy nostalgia piece. Instead Hackford, working from Edward Di Lorenzo's smart, cheeky, astutely observed script, offers a tantalizingly tawdry warts'n'all depiction of the blithely amoral behind-the-scenes music business wheeling and dealing: payola, groupies, wheedling, backstabbing and betrayal, sneaky advanced promotion tactics, rock music as strictly a hot marketable commodity to make money off of -- y'know, all that tasty lowdown dirty stuff that goes on backstage that the record-buying public isn't supposed to know about.
Moreover, the songs and on-stage performances are both top-notch: Veteran songwriter Jeff Barry penned the bouncy, moony, incredibly perky and catchy tunes while Denny Terrio did the vital, mildly lewd, daringly impertinent and provocative dance choreography. The acting is across-the-board excellent as well: Land and Gallagher (the latter also does his own strikingly fine singing) are amiably wide-eyed and convincing, while Joe Pantoliano as Vinnie's loyal songwriter best friend, Tovah Feldshuh as a canny, demanding teen mag editor, Olympia Dukakis as Vinnie's loving mom, Richard Bright (Al Neri in all three "Godfather" films) as Ray's ineffectual loser uncle, and everyone's favorite Brady girl Maureen McCormick as an eminently desirable teen zine writer acquit themselves superbly in supporting roles. Ultimately, it's nonetheless still Ray Sharkey's show all the way: forcefully projecting a certain low cunning, oozing scintillating reptilian charisma from every vibrantly oily pore, dressed to the nines in sharp suits, perpetually on the make and furiously talking a dazzling line in rhythmic rat-a-tat-tat pitter-patter bulls**t, Sharkey's spot-on, positively electrifying characterization deservedly nabbed him a Golden Globe Award and now serves as a sterling reminder of just how remarkably tragic his untimely AIDS-related death truly is. Rest in peace Mr. Sharkey and thank you for all your wonderful performances.
Loosely based on the real-life story of legendary South Philadelphia pop music impresario Robert Marcucci (the man who discovered both Fabian and Frankie Avalon; he gets a "technical adviser" credit for this picture), Taylor Hackford's terrifically tart rock bio is more notable not for what it does, but for what it bravely and commendably avoids doing. Although set in the much sentimentalized 50's, Hackford's boldly unromanticized movie certainly isn't some plasticky rosy nostalgia piece. Instead Hackford, working from Edward Di Lorenzo's smart, cheeky, astutely observed script, offers a tantalizingly tawdry warts'n'all depiction of the blithely amoral behind-the-scenes music business wheeling and dealing: payola, groupies, wheedling, backstabbing and betrayal, sneaky advanced promotion tactics, rock music as strictly a hot marketable commodity to make money off of -- y'know, all that tasty lowdown dirty stuff that goes on backstage that the record-buying public isn't supposed to know about.
Moreover, the songs and on-stage performances are both top-notch: Veteran songwriter Jeff Barry penned the bouncy, moony, incredibly perky and catchy tunes while Denny Terrio did the vital, mildly lewd, daringly impertinent and provocative dance choreography. The acting is across-the-board excellent as well: Land and Gallagher (the latter also does his own strikingly fine singing) are amiably wide-eyed and convincing, while Joe Pantoliano as Vinnie's loyal songwriter best friend, Tovah Feldshuh as a canny, demanding teen mag editor, Olympia Dukakis as Vinnie's loving mom, Richard Bright (Al Neri in all three "Godfather" films) as Ray's ineffectual loser uncle, and everyone's favorite Brady girl Maureen McCormick as an eminently desirable teen zine writer acquit themselves superbly in supporting roles. Ultimately, it's nonetheless still Ray Sharkey's show all the way: forcefully projecting a certain low cunning, oozing scintillating reptilian charisma from every vibrantly oily pore, dressed to the nines in sharp suits, perpetually on the make and furiously talking a dazzling line in rhythmic rat-a-tat-tat pitter-patter bulls**t, Sharkey's spot-on, positively electrifying characterization deservedly nabbed him a Golden Globe Award and now serves as a sterling reminder of just how remarkably tragic his untimely AIDS-related death truly is. Rest in peace Mr. Sharkey and thank you for all your wonderful performances.