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- <text id=91TT0506>
- <title>
- Mar. 11, 1991: Come On, Baby, Light My Fizzle
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1991
- Mar. 11, 1991 Kuwait City:Feb. 27, 1991
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- CINEMA, Page 73
- Come On, Baby, Light My Fizzle
- </hdr><body>
- <p>By Richard Corliss
- </p>
- <qt>
- <l>THE DOORS</l>
- <l>Directed by Oliver Stone</l>
- <l>Screenplay by J. Randal Johnson and Oliver Stone</l>
- </qt>
- <p> At Pere-Lachaise cemetery in Paris, Jim Morrison's grave
- site pulls in the biggest crowds: pilgrims, rockophiles, ragged
- hippies who look as if they stepped out of a Woodstock Portosan
- 20 years too late. Last spring, while Oliver Stone's rockudrama
- on Morrison's group the Doors was still in production, with Val
- Kilmer in the lead role, one possessive admirer etched this
- graffito into the Pere-Lachaise headstone: VAL KILMER N'EST PAS
- JIM.
- </p>
- <p> The scrawler was right. Morrison was a gorgeous creature--face by Michelangelo, a mouth made for pouts and pleasures, his
- entire persona an erogenous zone--with an electrifying stage
- presence. He saw himself, though, as a Romantic poet trapped
- in a pop star's body and worked hard at punishing that body
- with all-life binges of alcohol, drugs and heavy sex. "I'm rich
- and famous, smart and pretty," he must have mused. "Now how can
- I screw it up?" He did so by speeding up the physical and
- mental decay that aging forces on mere mortals. Like his hero
- Rimbaud, he raced death to the finish line. When he died in
- 1971, at 27, he was ravaged, depleted, spent. But for a few
- years Morrison was Satan's seraph--the golden stud of '60s
- rock.
- </p>
- <p> Kilmer is just conventionally good-looking; he can't prowl
- like Blake's Tyger or pose with the sultry arrogance of a Beat
- poet. Nor does he have the intellectual seductiveness that made
- Morrison a toy of the hip literati. In short, Kilmer is not
- Jim, and his casting denies The Doors the chance to be a
- meditation on the lure of sexual power. What else can the movie
- be? Morrison and his band were not political pathfinders, and
- musically they were close to negligible, with one compelling
- tune (Light My Fire) and an ambitious, pretentious attitude.
- The Doors had a good world when they died--their albums sell
- almost as well now as they did in the group's brief eminence--but not enough to base a movie on.
- </p>
- <p> So Stone turned The Doors into a display of pop culture's
- wretched excess. "The appeal of cinema lies in the fear of
- death," Morrison wrote when he was a student at the UCLA film
- school, and The Doors latches onto this fear in the first scene--when five-year-old Jim sees a car wreck--and rides the
- snake right to the end. In between come dozens of set pieces
- in which Morrison makes a spectacular, suicidal fool of
- himself: insulting his audience, trashing hotel rooms, dangling
- from 10th-story windows, engaging in a blood-sipping ritual
- with his witchy mistress (Kathleen Quinlan, who gets it right),
- locking his wife-to-be (Meg Ryan, who has no character to
- play) in a closet and setting it on fire. Perhaps Stone wants
- to show that Morrison was the victim of sensuality--death's
- hunkiest groupie--rather than its agent. But the film really
- proves only that Jim was a bad drunk and a worse friend, and
- that in no way was his life exemplary.
- </p>
- <p> Stone has relived the Vietnam War in two bold, woozy
- melodramas, Platoon and Born on the Fourth of July; his next
- movie is about the assassination of J.F.K. In subject and style
- he is the last director of the '60s, finding truth in rage,
- beauty in psychedelic sunsets, politics in self-destruction.
- His movies make people edgy, and that's a good thing. But this
- time Stone is a symptom of the disease he would chart. It is
- folly to lavish $40 million of somebody's money (that's $10
- million a Door!) and 2 hr. 15 min. of your time on a
- proposition--some guys can't handle fame--that was evident
- two decades ago. Maybe it was fun to bathe in decadence back
- then. But this is no time to wallow in that mire.
- </p>
-
- </body></article>
- </text>
-
-