Streets of Fire

Streets of Fire ★★★★

Neon might be a better last word for this film's title. Or maybe Hair Grease. It's some strange amalgam of Grease (the movie, this time, not the product), Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Nosferatu. There's singing and dancing, but almost all on stage so the world doesn't feel too unreal (except, you know, for everything else) and the characters act less like people and more like what people in movies think people in movies act like. Heightened to the point of absurdity, everybody is just doing things to do them. Sure, let's kidnap a rock star. Sound's like a fun day at the beach. Fine, I'll go rescue her, but only if I can also bring along a new friend and a total idiot that has almost no use in the plot at all. Ok, we did it, now what? We've still got half a movie left to go. It's the middle that lets the film down, mostly boring things as we wait for the inevitable final confrontation. That scene is great, and proof that bikes make for the worst ringside decoration. Then there's another song and it's glorious. I could watch the beginning and end of this all day. The middle is necessary, but never reaches those heights.