Two underage characters meet, naturally, in a bar over drinks, and are quickly shoved together by creepy L.A. entrepreneur Kim Fowley. Soon enough, they’re crammed into a motor home to form nascent glam rock band, The Runaways, working on chord ch-ch-changes and sliding inexorably toward drugs, soft-core lesbian sex and Japanese fame. As styled by video director Floria Sigismondi, the film mainly glances on these surfaces - it’s more giggly goofy than coke-in-the-bathroom naughty (only vinyl collectors will insist that a serious legacy has been sullied; the plot is as contrived as the group itself). A must for Joan Jett fans and lovers of frivolous rock biopics.
Read the Time Out review of The Runaways