3.5 stars. Rated R, for relentless profanity, sexuality and nudity, and substance abuse
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.5.18
This saga is as sure-fire as The Three Musketeers, and it has been brought to the big screen almost as many times.
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| Jackson (Bradley Cooper) is at his best when he stops drinking long enough to noodle a new song on the piano. Unfortunately, as Ally (Lady Gaga) soon discovers, such moments are becoming increasingly rare. |
The original William A. Wellman/Robert Carson story set the template back in 1937, with Janet Gaynor and Fredric March starring in the alternately exhilarating and melancholy tale of a wannabe actress’ chance encounter with a sympathetic veteran: her star on the rise, and his on the wane. Ships passing in the night from opposite directions, their encounter incandescent and mutually beneficial … but all too brief.
Shifting the narrative to the music industry was a brilliant touch, as took place in subsequent remakes of this rock-solid story. That solidified the formula, because there’s always a new diva-to-be waiting in the wings, as musical taste evolves.
So yes, this 2018 edition of A Star Is Born has much to recommend it: most notably an impressive big-screen dramatic debut by Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, better known as Lady Gaga.
Definitely a (dare I say it?) star-making performance.
She’s a standout during this film’s first act, as her character reels from wary vulnerability to giddy enthusiasm, not quite willing to believe the opportunity that has dropped into her lap. She’s touching, bubbly, feisty and wholly convincing as a nervous neophyte singer/songwriter who’s terrified of exposing herself to public censure: quite remarkable, for somebody with Lady Gaga’s actual performance chops.
You’ll detect a definite echo of 1968’s Funny Girl, where — in its first act — the already quite accomplished Barbra Streisand similarly conveyed the panic of inexperience. (In a droll touch, Lady Gaga’s Ally also is self-conscious about the size of her nose.)
It’s difficult to ascertain if Lady Gaga’s acting ability is instinctive, or whether first-time director and co-star Bradley Cooper coaxed something magical from her; we won’t know until she has more film work under her belt. But there’s no denying the result: She’s equally powerful whether delivering a song, or during a particularly heartbreaking dramatic moment.
Too bad Cooper didn’t trust her more.
He makes several mistakes, as a first-time triple-threat hyphenate (also co-credited for scripting, alongside Eric Roth and Will Fetters, with a nod toward Wellman and Carson). The screenplay isn’t deep enough — sidebar characters are shamefully underused — to justify a running time of 135 minutes. He should have let editor Jay Cassidy do his job.
(In fairness, the 1954 Judy Garland version is even longer, at 154 minutes.)
Cooper also is too self-indulgent. He favors slow reaction shots, particularly with his own character; it often feels like he’s struggling to remember his lines. And yes: Even for a quasi-musical, and even given the strength and appeal of the original songs by Lukas Nelson, Jason Isbell, Mark Ronson and Lady Gaga herself, there are too many of them. This is supposed to be a melodrama, not a concert documentary.
