Saturday, April 16, 2011

Satisfaction (1988)

Satisfaction. Upon finishing this film, words are difficult to really formulate on the sole reaction to this film. There were intense moments, 1980s hair, a lackadaisical approach to real-life though it seemed our characters came from a troubled past (hint: see the Bateman broken home), and there was tons (not an over-exaggeration) of cowbell. As our 80s teen-drama begins, Justine Bateman (looking overly man-ish) is a hard nosed rocker ready for her big break the summer before college. She has graduated with a punk attitude and is ready to take over the world. With a riled graduation speech, and her gang of misfit chicks, this modern-day "Jem and the Holograms" grabs a local keyboard nerd and the stage is set for great tunes, young love, and awkward chemistry. Add to the mix a relationship years too soon, a young Liam Neeson, a drug problem, and inevitably an attempted Julia Roberts' rape scene, and you have the homogeneous film, Satisfaction.


Is this film any good? Those reading this review - do you really want to know? First, this was 1988, where writing was second nature to just filling in plot points. This is a prime example. Watching Satisfaction there are these blatantly obvious moments where those involved with the production knew they just didn't have enough to work with. Case in point: the volleyball scene. A group of angry, scorched band mates decide they want to challenge a bright sunny day with volleyball, hilarity should have ensued, but instead we were bombarded with a montage scene that could rival that of "Team America, World Police". The entire scene doesn't fit. Which basically snowballs the rest of this film. It is a juggle between horrible acting, overplayed songs, and cheese. Plain cheesy. Going beyond the atypical review where we can break down the characters, where we can find the guiding light of honesty within film, and talk about the social necessities of youth, music, and the hardships of realities - it just doesn't happen in Satisfaction.

When this doesn't happen then what are you left with? There needs to be something that audiences can relate to - that audiences can grow into, but nothing arrives. We only have five major players in this whole film, and none can escape the paper bag that they have been drawn into. Cliche after cliche attempts to push through the overbearing live performances that our characters cannot control. They do not know music, their stances and expressions push away from realism, but again, who expects that with Satisfaction? Look at the box art. This is candy, old candy. Candy that has been sitting at your grandmother's house for years past, just waiting for that perfect time to enjoy.

If it feels that I am being overly harsh with this film, fair not, I wasn't the only one. Being a box office bomb (not to mention Justine's first major motion picture) and further demonstrating the failed Julia Roberts' acting ability [ie: Eat, Pray, Love], this was renamed for television in hopes to find further viewers that would be fooled by the clever name change "Girls of Summer". Satisfaction provided nothing that the title suggested. Its bland story was heavily bolded by the dubbed singing and faux-guitar playing that each member of this film attempted to accurately portray. Does it speak anything about Satisfaction when Liam Neeson, to this day, still claims not to have seen this movie? I wish I could only be so lucky.

Found in my "Destroy all Movies: Punks in Film" book, Satisfaction provided no, none, extinct satisfaction. The mix-matched group of girls coupled with the overly boozy Neeson just seemed and felt too cookie-cutter for any real originality to occur. There was no character development, no creative music, and our director - one Joan Freeman - used simplistic shots and classic 80s cut-scenes to force unheralded drama onto the viewers. There is no reason why this couldn't have been a lighter romp, but with the undercurrent of broken homes, drug use, and a big F**k You to the world, this pushed the dark envelope too much for the safe boundaries. I cannot stress this enough, but the entire volleyball scene just ruined the film for me. Not only were these supposed good singers, but they couldn't understand the basics for volleyball? Were we dealing with idiots that were victims of happenstance? It just didn't work.

Alas, Satisfaction you are getting a yellow highlight with black mark - never to be seen or suggested again. I end on this one question. Using this as your resume, how did both Justine Bateman and Julia Roberts' ever find work again? Does a pretty face outweigh talent? The world may never know...

No comments:

Post a Comment