2.17.2005

"I knew every raindrop by its name."

The most beautiful scene in any mediocre movie based on a great book ever is when wet-headed, bare chested Billy Crudup (AKA Fuckhead) eats the note in Jesus' Son with his dead girlfriend laid out on the bed behind him. Denis Johnson really is one of my favorite writers, but this movie doesn't do him justice. I personally don't even think it's very good in its own right, as some movies based on books can be despite the fact that they don't match the book. I hope Johnson isn't doomed to the same cinematic disparity as Brett Easton Ellis who has seen his work transformed into such features as Less Than Zero, The Rules of Attraction, and American Psycho; all of which at least did have something going for them as independent entities, but which poorly represented his writing.
"I think short stories are right for a story about druggies. Their lives are too episodic to add up to a novel; the highs and lows settle out into disconnected adventures and anecdotes, separated by voids and blackouts." - Roger Ebert on Jesus' Son

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