‘Almost Famous’: a film by Cameron Crowe – the heart of rock ‘n roll defined

In his self-penned coming-of-age rock film, Almost Famous, director Cameron Crowe captures everything there is that needs to be said about rock n roll. This is a movie about music, and what it truly means to be a fan, set against the backdrop of the early seventies - the last great throes of rock 'n roll. It's all happening!

Hemmingway once said: ‘Write the truest thing you know’. And in his self-penned coming-of-age rock film, Director Cameron Crowe does exactly that. ‘Almost Famous’ is based on Crowe’s own growing up years and experiences in the music industry.

Eighteen year old William Miller…no wait, sixteen year old…dammit FIFTEEN year old William Miller (the truth just sounds different doesn’t it?) is in over his head and on the road with rock-groupie Penny Lane, her infamous band (of friends) known as ‘bandaids’, and punching-above-their-weight up-and-coming band, Stillwater. The film tells the story of the band as they struggle to rise past mediocrity; but it’s also a film about William Miller’s coming of age – his epic quest to write a feature on the band for Rolling Stone magazine, and a chronicle of his blossoming friendship with Penny Lane. It’s also an unconventional love story (think lovesong) between Penny and the Stillwater’s one true talent, guitarist Russell Hammond. And…it’s about the music. And it’s all intertwined into one last great tour before rock n roll as we knew it, crashed into 1974.

What particularly resonates with Almost Famous, is that it chronicles the beauty of almost making it. This is not a rags to riches story, it’s one far more of us can relate to. The band make the cover of ‘Rolling Stone’ magazine, yes, but The Rolling Stones they’ll never be. Upcoming rock star Russell and Miss Penny Lane are cosmically matched, perfectly aligned, and beautiful together, yes, yet in the ‘real world’ it seems they are unworkable. And William may succeed as a writer, but in the end his dream to be with the girl of his dreams slips heartbreakingly through his fingers, even as he holds her close in their one forever crazy, hazy dance. But that’s the tapestry of life – it’s imperfect. It’s all things interwoven, moments of inexplicable bliss, and stupidcrazy on-a-whim days, and times of utter desperation and frustration beyond expression. This is who we are really.

Almost Famous is a coming of age sex-and-(don’t do)-drugs-and-rock-and-roll movie- but not in the expected, tried-and-true cliche way. Because, remember, this is Crowe’s own coming of age story – and he tells it through a unique lens – a lived experience with an almost documentary feel. It’s the home movies of his mind, transferred frame by frame and word for word, onto the big screen. William Miller takes Crowe’s experience and runs with it. And we can feel it. It’s a trip that we experience too – falling in love with the story and the people as we go – the characters, the places, the moments, and of course, the music. In creating Almost Famous, Cameron Crowe has borne a life onscreen that effortlessly transfers to the audience, and in the watching, it becomes part of us too.

As someone who has followed music from an early age and felt the passion it inspires; as someone who has experienced ‘what it means’ to be a fan – of music, of a song, of a band; and as someone who has written about music, on and off, all my life, there is a certain truth about this film that resonates very deeply within me. Crowe has captured everything that there is and that needs to be said about rock n roll. Almost Famous is the real deal in all its’ ecstasy and exhilaration and beauty and madness, contemplation and heartache. It’s all there. It’s all happening. And how perfectly illustrated this is in William Miller’s frustrated sobs as he sits in the hallway of the bands hotel, deadline racing towards him like a freight train, needing that interview, but finally understanding, that in rock ‘n roll? Deadlines or not, there are no guarantees. That’s the vibe. And it will frustrate and drive you to madness, but it’s also what you love and what you crave. Where will it happen, this INCINDIARY interview, this meeting of souls, this sitting down to discuss MUSIC – where will it happen, and when, and how? And that’s rock ‘n roll. It’s who you are and why you’re here. Because otherwise – if you wanted a life of safely organised deadlines? Well, you’d just be a slave in your suit at a desk somewhere, laptop powered down at five on the dot, living an endless, dull life. But this – this is madness – infinitely worse and infinitely better than any nine to five life. This is rock ‘n roll. Where we’re all in the circus and nobody wants to go home. Where we’re not who we’re supposed to be – where we’re who we actually are (the truth always sounds, well, different). And this film, not only gets that, it embodies it.

Almost Famous is a film that provides us with a window to a unique era of rock – it’s a documentation of the end of innocence, the falling of the sixties and early seventies into an ‘industry of cool’. Here we are in the last great throes of rock ‘n roll – front row to the final creschendo of sound before the silence. Lester Bangs warns William that he’s missed the boat, so to speak – that he’s only there in time for “the death rattle, the last gasp, the last grope” of rock – change is in the air, and it’s not good. The band abandon their beloved tour bus Doris on the advice of new management, and hop aboard a chartered plane – the way of the future. And even the Band Aids sense a shift in attitude. “Can you believe these new girls?” bemoans Saphhire. “None of them use birth control and they eat all the steak!”. It’s the free-fall of the Phoenix, but the film also hints of rock’s inevitable reincarnation, for as we know, the music never dies. “Iggy Pop! Amen!” proclaims Lester Bangs as he browses the vinyl on the shelves of his local radio station. And of course it’s Lester who sees the future of music (punk) before the future has even been truly born (this is 1973 remember). He is, after all, the Mentor, the Wizard – America’s Greatest Rock Critic. And although the other characters in the film don’t necessary see it, we know – he gets it right.

But the film is not just a window to the industry, it’s also a window to the heart of music, its very essence and soul – its fandom. Almost Famous proudly embraces – no, celebrates – the fact, that being a fan, ultimately, is a state of bliss. And what does that mean exactly? To be a fan? Sapphire tells us, in her innocence, that it’s, “To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band so much that it hurts”. And neive as she sounds – she’s right. At its’ essence, fandom is from the heart. It’s about music and love and it’s simple and pure – it’s the very celebration of being alive. It’s Penny Lane dancing, arms outstreched in absolute joy, across an empty stadium. It’s the beaming smiles of Stillwater as they walk onstage. It’s the eclectic mix of friends from all walks of life and all sides of town, as they descend upon Cleveland’s Celebrity Inn, united as one because of the music, the MUSIC. Fandom is in essence, all about the music. And fandom is not just for the fans. Despite the labels they wear to the world – William (the journalist) is a fan, Russell (the musician) is a fan, Lester Bangs (the critic) is a fan, even the Editor of Rolling Stone magazine, is a fan. They are all part of this circle for the same reason, they are all here for the music, they are all connected by it. And even though they may express it in their own unique ways – music is their lifeline, and their common thread. Ultimately, it brings them all together, and allows each of them to recognise themselves in the others. It’s how the band end up on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine. It’s how Russell finally realises Penny’s worth. And it’s how William and Russell end up sitting in Williams room, discussing the one thing that means more to them than anything – not Penny – but music. “What do you love about music?” William asks Russell. “To begin with,” Russell replies, drawing up his chair, “everything”. Everything. Music is everything. And we can almost see Penny Lane, who orchestrated this meeting without either of them realising, nodding and smiling, Stillwater playing on her turntable in the background.

It’s music that is the greatest love story in this film. And like any real love story, sometimes it can be difficult and unpredictable, but then sometimes it gives us the most unforgettable moments of our lives. But it connects us always, and it runs endlessly, and what a journey it takes us on. And how magnificent to be able to relive all those magical chords – to be able to look back on experiences gained, friends forged, and love found. I like to think that Penny Lane’s self-exile to Morocco at the end of the film is short-lived. I like to think that she does return to the music world in some way, shape or form – perhaps working for a record company or music promoter. Perhaps she becomes a songwriter. Or perhaps, as the Elton song goes, she marries a music man.