Almost Famous

I know, I know: Tiny Dancer. Discussion of Almost Famous usually revolves around that one scene, and with somewhat good cause. It is a beautifully realised scene, and a truly iconic one. But it's merely one scene in an altogether wonderful film.

There are some films I loved as a teen that I've 'grown out of' over the years, or at least have grown less fond of (Donnie Darko being one). But not Almost Famous: I still have a deep affection for the film. Now, it's not a perfect film by any stretch, but it is possibly the best film Cameron Crowe has or ever will make. Because it's his film: it's the director making a deeply personal project, and it just oozes with enthusiasm and genuineness as a result. Before that he'd made a series of charming crowdpleasers, from Say Anything to Jerry Maguire. These were good to great films, but Almost Famous had a passion lacking even in the best of his previous films. Since then, he's struggled to make anything memorable. The direct follow-up was a remake, his latest 'based on true events'. Someone else's true events. Almost Famous is, however, his story: the film Cameron Crowe was almost destined to make. And it's wonderful because of it, although has perhaps doomed his chances of making anything quite as brilliant.

Patrick Fugit as William is Crowe's semi-fictional recreation of himself and his misadventures echo Crowe's own days as a youth journalist. The character gives the film a crystal clear focus and perspective. There's a number of scenes where we see William observing things from a distance or partially opened doors: not fully ingrained in this world. It also creates some fantastic moments of character interaction. The way Kate Hudson and Billy Crudup's character use and abuse William - and, eventually, actually befriend him - for personal gain are just wonderful. William allows us and the director to fully invest in the story and situations, and even though the characters that surround him are 'larger than life', his presence is the most crucial of all.

I've often heard the complaint that Almost Famous is 'too clean' for a film about seventies rock. And sure, it's hardly the most provocative or shocking film ever made. That, frankly, doesn't matter. In a way his later films have been unable to recapture, Crowe's audience-friendly approach pays massive dividends. Crudup getting drunk and (gasp!) taking acid at a house party isn't the most extreme breakdown ever committed to cinema, but it is very, very entertaining ("I'm a golden God!"). Similarly, Frances McDormand's Elaine may be a slightly absurd parody of the overprotective mother. But again, it's a great performance, and the exaggerations allow Crowe to further explore the contradictions and contrasts of William's two worlds. The excellent Untitled Director's cut adds further memorable moments and characterisation to a film that's already full of them, even if Crowe still couldn't afford the rights to Stairway to Heaven (leading to one of the most memorable and creative deleted scenes in DVD history).

Then, of course, the music. Cameron Crowe has undeniably shown a keen fondness and awareness for pop and rock music - even integrating album covers visually into Vanilla Sky. But Almost Famous integrates music into the film on a much deeper and more rewarding level. The only thing drawing these very, very different characters together is a fundamental love of music. They may fight, they may hate each others personality, they may be horribly self-destructive: but on-stage, nothing else matters. It's why that Tiny Dancer sequence is so powerful - a song transcending the petty quibbling, alcoholism, egoism, self-hatred and affairs that almost drive everyone on that bus apart. It's the thematic core of the film, and summed up in one glorious moment.

The relatively happy ending here is hard-earned by Crowe. His unavoidable sentimental streak is perfectly judged. The music is electrifying. The flawed but loveable characters have all gained some level of insight and acted upon it. An audience member would struggle to leave without a smile on their face. So no: Almost Famous isn't subtle, provocative or particularly inventive. It's (shamelessly, one could say) manipulative. Don't hold that against it, because it's still an expertly crafted film, and one of mainstream American cinema's most enduring achievements.