Nothing like seeing this at a promo screening filled with kids screaming down the aisles and exhausted parents just scrolling through their phone the whole time to cement that these films aren't meant to be consumed as art.
They're 90 minute babysitters.
Revisiting this for the first time since high school - yeah, it's old school classic music biopic formula, but it's such a great intro for Phillips, all dimpled optimism and ambition, the kind thatakes it all the more tragic when it's snuffed out so suddenly. But let's not forget Esai Morales tearing it up as Ritchie's fuck up brother, a guy suffocating in the thick fog of his own machismo. All these people around Ritchie with their hopes and dreams, all snuffed out over one terse news radio transmission.
