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slipjig3Before I started on the 100 Scenes project, I put together a preliminary list of scenes I wanted to write about—not the whole 100, but about 15 or so, enough to gain momentum. Looking over that list today, trying to decide what to write about next, I was startled to notice how many of those concern themselves with music (and I hadn't even gotten to the musicals yet). Having begun with a dying Mozart, it makes some wonky sense to follow up now with a scene about a young man and rock and roll.
I can't help feeling, though, that declaring Cameron Crowe's quasi-autobigraphical Almost Famous to be "about music" is missing the point just a little bit. Above all else it's about coming of age, but even when it's about music, it's not so much about the music itself as it is about the things that come with music: joy, energy, affirmation, fame and money if you're (un)lucky, love, heartbreak, consolation. In the most famous scene of the film, the one where the entire tour bus begins to sing along to Elton John's "Tiny Dancer," the focus is on how the song heals, how it brings together the dozen-plus road-bruised souls and lifts them up from the gloom they've found themselves in. As much as I adore that moment, though, I had to choose another scene for today, a much earlier one, because it's the one that makes everything that follows possible:
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15-year-old William, flawlessly played by a young Patrick Fugit, is precocious, several grades ahead of his age, earnest, and perhaps the nicest person you'll ever meet. He also sincerely loves rock music in the intelligent, obsessive way that the truest geeky fans do. He finds his way backstage at his first rock concert almost in spite of his best qualities; his innocent face and just-a-kid demeanor keep the stage door firmly slammed in his face, despite the best efforts of "band aid" Penny Lane (Kate Hudson), until up-and-coming band Stillwater shows up. They're just the opening act (William's there to write about the headliners, Black Sabbath), but he's enough of a fan to compliment the band in specific enough ways to let them know he's not just blowing smoke. They call him "the Enemy" because he's a journalist, but there's an affectionate irony to that—sweet-faced, earnest William couldn't beat you up if you had both arms tied behind your back.
Which is what makes this scene such an unbridled joy. Almost Famous has the hands-down best casting across the board that I've ever encountered, and everyone here, including Billy Crudup and Jason Lee, finds the perfect note. But it's Fugit at the center who sells it, that innocence and eagerness, made all the greater by Crowe's ability to let us watch it all through his eyes: getting pulled into the pre-show ritual huddle, making his way up the dim stairs to the side of the stage, and that amazing moment when Russell the guitarist turns away from the screaming crowd, looks William in the eye, smiles, and turns back with a wailing chord that might possibly be the greatest gift the 15-year-old had ever received. And our breath catches because we can feel that flutter, and, having lived long enough, we know what we're seeing. We're watching his life change before our very eyes.
By the time the night is over, William will be on a first-name basis with everyone from guitarist down to roadies, no longer unkissed, heart-poundingly in first love with Penny Lane, days from joining the caravan on the road, and so far above the moon he might never come down. It's not about the music, in the end. It's about that moment when we look around and, shockingly, discover that we really are alive.
I can't help feeling, though, that declaring Cameron Crowe's quasi-autobigraphical Almost Famous to be "about music" is missing the point just a little bit. Above all else it's about coming of age, but even when it's about music, it's not so much about the music itself as it is about the things that come with music: joy, energy, affirmation, fame and money if you're (un)lucky, love, heartbreak, consolation. In the most famous scene of the film, the one where the entire tour bus begins to sing along to Elton John's "Tiny Dancer," the focus is on how the song heals, how it brings together the dozen-plus road-bruised souls and lifts them up from the gloom they've found themselves in. As much as I adore that moment, though, I had to choose another scene for today, a much earlier one, because it's the one that makes everything that follows possible:
[Error: unknown template video]
15-year-old William, flawlessly played by a young Patrick Fugit, is precocious, several grades ahead of his age, earnest, and perhaps the nicest person you'll ever meet. He also sincerely loves rock music in the intelligent, obsessive way that the truest geeky fans do. He finds his way backstage at his first rock concert almost in spite of his best qualities; his innocent face and just-a-kid demeanor keep the stage door firmly slammed in his face, despite the best efforts of "band aid" Penny Lane (Kate Hudson), until up-and-coming band Stillwater shows up. They're just the opening act (William's there to write about the headliners, Black Sabbath), but he's enough of a fan to compliment the band in specific enough ways to let them know he's not just blowing smoke. They call him "the Enemy" because he's a journalist, but there's an affectionate irony to that—sweet-faced, earnest William couldn't beat you up if you had both arms tied behind your back.
Which is what makes this scene such an unbridled joy. Almost Famous has the hands-down best casting across the board that I've ever encountered, and everyone here, including Billy Crudup and Jason Lee, finds the perfect note. But it's Fugit at the center who sells it, that innocence and eagerness, made all the greater by Crowe's ability to let us watch it all through his eyes: getting pulled into the pre-show ritual huddle, making his way up the dim stairs to the side of the stage, and that amazing moment when Russell the guitarist turns away from the screaming crowd, looks William in the eye, smiles, and turns back with a wailing chord that might possibly be the greatest gift the 15-year-old had ever received. And our breath catches because we can feel that flutter, and, having lived long enough, we know what we're seeing. We're watching his life change before our very eyes.
By the time the night is over, William will be on a first-name basis with everyone from guitarist down to roadies, no longer unkissed, heart-poundingly in first love with Penny Lane, days from joining the caravan on the road, and so far above the moon he might never come down. It's not about the music, in the end. It's about that moment when we look around and, shockingly, discover that we really are alive.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-26 11:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-05-03 05:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-04-27 01:17 am (UTC)(And again I'm celeb-adjacent once removed: an ex-coworker and my husband went to UNC with Billy Crudup)
(no subject)
Date: 2012-05-03 05:29 pm (UTC)And jeez, do you know everybody? *laugh*