A rising indie band travels to Spike Island, Cheshire, in May of 1990 to see The Stone Roses.
Fluffed notes, bit messy, but scattered with heart, highs and songs to hum. Like the Roses’ career, Whitecross’s baggy love-in is saggy but also energised and endearing.
Underwhelming.
Bowl haircuts and Mancunian affectations abound in an electric, earnest, hazy portrayal of Madchester’s glory days, but since a bunch of mates going to a pop concert does not, by itself, possess enough narrative oomph to drive a film, the script does over-rely on maudlin Britfilm tropes: the domestic abuse victim, the terminally ill parent, the teenage love triangle.
It’s hard to see who the film is aimed at, teenagers or nostalgic forty-somethings? There doesn’t seem enough for either.
It’s a bit ramshackle but good fun and enjoyably nostalgic.
If he wants to know how teenagers can be witty and rueful and filthy at once, he should watch The Inbetweeners. The heady whirl of the Roses' first album played loud is a treat – the only one.
It's a likable, amiable movie, and a nice reminder of the roaring 90s.
Following Made Of Stone, this is another slice of nostalgia for baggies of a certain age.
Less a double-bill accompaniment to Meadow's movie, more a solid second-feature – albeit one that happens to be taking to the stage after the main act.
General release. Check local listings for show times.