Something STINKS in Elisabeth Moss’ ‘Her Smell and the movie is mediocre as well.

Something STINKS in Elisabeth Moss’ ‘Her Smell and  the movie is mediocre ass well.
Something STINKS in Elisabeth Moss’ ‘Her Smell and  the movie is mediocre ass well.

Set mostly in the 1990s, Her Smell centers on Moss’ Becky Something – the pseudonymous lead singer of a punk all-woman rock trio named Something She – the movie by writer-director Alex Ross Perry (“Listen Up Philip”) invites you to observe the degradation and redemption of an artist close up, without first giving us a reason to care. Care about what? Another movie featuring an actor singing with her real voice? Good Grief, as if I wasn’t traumatized enough being assailed by Natalie Portman’s mono-tonal vocalizations in the movie VOX Lux (Which I had been ostensibly eager to watch, that is until I did.

In addition to the abusive personality that Becky inflicts upon her: Band-mates and her ex (Dan Stevens) to. She’s an irresponsible, substance-abusing caregiver to their baby daughter. And, most important, her lack of talent doesn’t really justify the movie’s willingness to let her bad behavior slide.

This begs the question: How many more of these goddess forsaken ‘Actor doing their own vocals movies are we going to have to suffer through?!  I gotta hand it to Moss for being secure enough to surround herself with the likes of Amber Heard:

and MODELS Cara Delavinge and my personal fave Angyness Deyn-

It’s clear, from the movie’s first scenes, that Becky’s best days are far behind her. Why anyone would continue to idolize her is, for the longest time, a mystery the film doesn’t bother to explain.

The other problem is the long-winded, script. Endless arguments about rock purity and energy take place between Becky and the owner of her record label (Eric Stoltz); her band-mates (Agyness Deyn and Gayle Rankin); a rival musician (Amber Heard); Becky’s personal shaman (Eka Darville); and her own mother (Virginia Madsen, who I’ve adored for years). It’s so tedious that you find yourself, at long last, agreeing with Becky when she finally gets sick enough of her own voice to announce, without irony: “Enough of this jibber-jabber.

Then you can always revel in Portman and Moss’ Tone Deaf Race To The Bottom.