Prey for Rock & Roll
dir. Alex Steyermark

Opens Fri Oct 3.
See Movie Times.

Rock 'n' roll can be such stupidly serious business. With all the scrutinizing, monetizing, monopolizing, theorizing, backbiting, ladder-climbing, and everything else that stinks up the fun of it, it can get too easy to lose sight of the reason that rock is such a powerful cultural obsession in the first place--because it's the best rush money can buy, whether you're perfecting the art of one-man prog symphonies or yelling about your right to get bombed with Andrew W. K.

A&R guys who only care about the money, record labels that force out a hit single, elitist music snobs, and everyone else who can't just enjoy the music without needing to make themselves rich and/or the selfish star of the show are all the music world's cold, wet blankets. And then there's the factor of the prima donna musicians who leave no room for anything but their singular vision and their place at the center--even if someone else is the frontperson.

Richard Linklater's newest movie, School of Rock, is a slapstick reminder that the basic tenet of rock 'n' roll is to have a good time--a concept the classic-rock-obsessed main character has to go to great lengths to learn himself, providing much laughter along the way.

Rock centers around the perfectly cast Jack Black as Dewey Finn, a loser who busts out 20-minute guitar solos, stage dives in empty bars, and basically makes an ass out of himself to a degree not seen in the mainstream since hair metal disappeared in a puff of Aqua Net. With limited understanding of the concept of a band as a group effort, everything Dewey does is aimed at putting his semi-talented self on a pedestal. In response, his band, No Vacancy, do what any other smart band would--they kick his ass to the curb (and then replace him with a better-looking guitarist).

Broke, destitute, and lectured by both his roommate, Ned (Mike White), and Ned's girlfriend, Patty (a very straight-playing Sarah Silverman), to do something with his life, Dewey ends up scamming his way into a job by impersonating Ned as a substitute teacher at a private prep school. Surrounded by a classroom full of smart, inquisitive fifth graders and possessing zero skills in the academic realm, Dewey decides to turn this group of youngsters into a rock group so he can use them to compete in a battle of the bands against No Vacancy.

Like Kindergarten Cop, the concept behind Rock is one of those near-hokey ones where "kids teach us more than we teach them," and where, in the end, everybody wins in some way because everybody loosens up a bit. What makes this movie different, though (besides smart-aleck humor, like Dewey telling the class, "You want to learn something? Quit.... There used to be a way to stick it to the man--rock 'n' roll--but the Man ruined that through a little thing called MTV") is that it tackles the parts of rock culture where people take themselves way too seriously, a subject that could use a little unwinding of its panties. By taking a group of kids whose musical interests are limited to a couple radio hits and teaching them the art of self-expression, groupiedom, Led Zeppelin, and the basics of rocking out, Dewey takes the focus off himself and learns to enjoy music for more than just his ego boost.

A very affable Linklater, on the phone from Austin, says there was another message to his film as well: "It seems like our culture is interested in young people as consumers," he says. "They're never gonna send a message like, 'Hey you can write a song, you don't have to just buy a song and watch MTV. You can write a song and be in a band and it's a lot more fun.' It's that punk ethos of starting your own band, doing it yourself--it's more fun, more expressive."

In contrast to School of Rock, the Gina Gershon car wreck Prey for Rock & Roll is a compilation of everything that sucks about the entertainment industry--bad posturing, sappy clichés, and using a big name and the right stylist to market your crappy product to the masses.

The idea behind Prey was to tell the story of real-life L.A. rocker Cheri Lovedog's experiences with her band, Lovedog, through Gershon's character, Jacki, who hits a mid-30s midlife crisis of sorts when she wonders if her age and lack of success are reasons enough for her to call it quits. In the case of this movie, the answer to that question would be yes.

Instead of grappling with an interesting premise--whether getting older and refusing to sell out will get you anywhere when you hit near-burnout--the film sets up cardboard characters and a terribly trite band, all of which feels so forced it's like watching Reality Bites or Singles all over again--but with a worse soundtrack.

But you know something's gotta be wrong when they start the movie with a money shot--a Bound flashback of bi-friendly frontwoman Jacki and her hot model girlfriend getting it on, a sexual preference that's dropped later to make room for the male lead (the brother of the band's drummer, Sally), fresh out of prison and sweet on the singer. The other bandmates--drugged-out bassist Tracy (Drea de Matteo), and the only good actress in the entire film, Lori Petty, as a guitarist named Faith--drag along with Jacki's angsty introspection, until a stilted rape scene (and the revenge/realizations that ensue) pushes this pile of trash completely over the top.

Unlike School of Rock, Prey for Rock & Roll highlights problems with the music industry inadvertently--like how easy it is to turn a real story and a real passion for music into something terrible that cashes in on clichés wherever it can. Dewey needs to come school these women on lightening up a bit--after the way their bland characters are paraded around like magazine cutouts, they could definitely use a little rock 'n' roll education, Jack Black-style.

jennifer@thestranger.com