I saw this exciting film a while ago. It tells the story of popular all-girl band The Runaways and how they formed, overcome initial adversity, and then disintegrate as cocaine starts exacerbating existing problems. So plot-wise the story is rather like that of all band biopics, but it is still well done. Kim Fowley (their manager) is endearingly creepy, the young women playing Cherie Curry and Joan Jett deliver great performances, and the music is all reasonable entertaining. But I felt a bit sorry for Lita Ford – this film was plainly not based on her memoirs.
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An inuit panda production
Duglas T. Stewart informed me that when Kim Fowley was staying with him in Glasgow a few years ago, he was asked if he could, through his job at the BBC, blow up a photograph of another young girl band Fowley was managing at the time. When Duglas inquired if this was for promotional purposes, Fowley replied, "No, for masturbational purposes."
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