An energetic and colourful, if somewhat sanitised bio-pic of controversial 50's rocker, Jerry Lee Lewis. With few exceptions it seems, the lives of the first wave of rock 'n' roll greats took some mighty unusual twists and turns, but outside of the tragic death of Buddy Holly in early 1959, Jerry Lee's meteoric rise and fall probably contains more grist for a movie than any of them.
Director McBride gives us a full-on take on Lewis' spectacular emergence and brief time when he appeared to be the number one challenger to the King Of Rock 'n' Roll title held by ex-Sun records label-mate, one Elvis Aaron Presley, but in truth, Lewis, whose first two hits are as good as anything Elvis himself mustered in his golden era in the 50's, was probably not good looking enough and certainly was too rebellious and unstable to really carry his fans with him thereafter, although a shrewd, no-nonsense manager like The King's much-criticised Colonel Tom Parker, might have helped.
The film itself is highly stylised and is so apocryphal in its treatment of events that I had to make a decision to stop wincing at every convolution in the story-line - worst example, Elvis, Army satchel on his shoulder, dropping by Sun Studios to tell Jerry that he can have it all, i.e. his position as the King - and enjoy it as much as any other Hollywood bowdlerisation you can name. And did Jerry Lee ever really set fire to his piano over a disagreement with Chuck Berry...?
Anyway, the depiction of the era is great, with T-birds cruising up and down the streets and the down-home feel of the legendary Sun Studios brought to life. The narrative tries to play up Lewis' contrasting relationship with his since disgraced evangelical Bible-punching cousin Jimmy Swaggert, but there's more of interest in the Killer's liaison with his thirteen year-old wife Myra. The film holds back a little on this sensitive subject, but in the end doesn't shirk it completely (impossible not to, really) and certainly gets across Lewis' self-destructive "kiss my ass" outlook, particularly during his ill-fated visit to England.
Dennis Quaid gives the challenging role of maverick Lewis his all and even if he can't quite put across the undoubtedly darker side of Jerry Lee, his vitality (and spot-on lip-synching!), particularly in the musical numbers, makes up for this. The movie-stealer though is unquestionably Wynonna Ryder as his child-bride Myra, not yet a woman but still drawn to this wild man with a mixture of child-like wonder, innocence and curiosity.
There's good support too with none of the acting jarring with the evocation of the period and even if the whole sometimes looks like a slightly heavied-up re-run of "Happy Days" with its choreographed dancing routines and occasional tricksy devices like for example the telephone wire split-screen device during a telephone conversation, all paying due homage to the era.
As stated, this day-glo approach doesn't always serve Lewis' sometimes darker story too well but on the whole, Lewis deserved this affectionate tribute and no-one will question the greatness of his early music, which more even than this very entertaining movie, will be what we remember him by.
Director McBride gives us a full-on take on Lewis' spectacular emergence and brief time when he appeared to be the number one challenger to the King Of Rock 'n' Roll title held by ex-Sun records label-mate, one Elvis Aaron Presley, but in truth, Lewis, whose first two hits are as good as anything Elvis himself mustered in his golden era in the 50's, was probably not good looking enough and certainly was too rebellious and unstable to really carry his fans with him thereafter, although a shrewd, no-nonsense manager like The King's much-criticised Colonel Tom Parker, might have helped.
The film itself is highly stylised and is so apocryphal in its treatment of events that I had to make a decision to stop wincing at every convolution in the story-line - worst example, Elvis, Army satchel on his shoulder, dropping by Sun Studios to tell Jerry that he can have it all, i.e. his position as the King - and enjoy it as much as any other Hollywood bowdlerisation you can name. And did Jerry Lee ever really set fire to his piano over a disagreement with Chuck Berry...?
Anyway, the depiction of the era is great, with T-birds cruising up and down the streets and the down-home feel of the legendary Sun Studios brought to life. The narrative tries to play up Lewis' contrasting relationship with his since disgraced evangelical Bible-punching cousin Jimmy Swaggert, but there's more of interest in the Killer's liaison with his thirteen year-old wife Myra. The film holds back a little on this sensitive subject, but in the end doesn't shirk it completely (impossible not to, really) and certainly gets across Lewis' self-destructive "kiss my ass" outlook, particularly during his ill-fated visit to England.
Dennis Quaid gives the challenging role of maverick Lewis his all and even if he can't quite put across the undoubtedly darker side of Jerry Lee, his vitality (and spot-on lip-synching!), particularly in the musical numbers, makes up for this. The movie-stealer though is unquestionably Wynonna Ryder as his child-bride Myra, not yet a woman but still drawn to this wild man with a mixture of child-like wonder, innocence and curiosity.
There's good support too with none of the acting jarring with the evocation of the period and even if the whole sometimes looks like a slightly heavied-up re-run of "Happy Days" with its choreographed dancing routines and occasional tricksy devices like for example the telephone wire split-screen device during a telephone conversation, all paying due homage to the era.
As stated, this day-glo approach doesn't always serve Lewis' sometimes darker story too well but on the whole, Lewis deserved this affectionate tribute and no-one will question the greatness of his early music, which more even than this very entertaining movie, will be what we remember him by.