Starring Rachel Leigh-Cook, Rosario Dawson and Tara Reid
“Josie and the Pussycats” (Universal, PG-13) induces surprises, like a good song buried on a disappointing album. But through loop-de-loops of logic and irony, the taste turns acidic -- just like finding out that good song stole its hook from better material.
Taken by itself and separated from the environment, the movie becomes a wonderful farce, extremely timely in a pop culture ruled by “Total Request Live” and MTV. And with every pebble tossed at the cultural giant, those deemed unhip can snort and chuckle while holding their pocket protectors in appreciation.
But the promotion and attention can’t be ignored. For each and every attack the movie makes, it turns around and commits the same crime on the “real” public. A hip soundtrack, the Entertainment Weekly cover and cute, young marketable co-stars all belong to the same machine “Josie” tries to disassemble. Thus, the movie-going public can’t take the message seriously, no matter how great the cause.
Instead of a lame, girl-power comedy with no redeeming social value, the pop ‘n’ roll opus turns its attention to those same social values in the teen demographics.
Ah, good ol’ teens, the purveyors of cool and chic fads that last about as long as a one-night stand. Pink is the new red, Converse is the new Adidas and the Northern Star is the new USA Today. Yes, this review is considered stylish.
Anyway, the sizzle dominates the teens’ attention in this movie as well, pumped up to manic extremes (or so we hope). As the mindless drones scoop up fashion and material happiness, pop music serves as its revolving soundtrack.
And revolve it does, with no artists approaching the longevity of even the Backstreet Boys. It is in this environment that Josie (Rachael Leigh Cook), Melody (Tara Reid) and Valerie (Rosario Dawson) hit the scene, to the thrill of a scant few.
But through a complicated series of ironic events, smarmy business manager Wyatt Frame (Alan Cumming) sees a maleable mix of future stars to hold in his hands like new Play-Dough.
Then the roller coaster begins, with highs and lows scrunched into a fast plot and fast lifestyles. The conflict (or broken rail in this analogy) comes when the band starts to suspect that record company owner Fiona (Parker Posey) covertly is implanting commands into the CDs for the lemming teens to follow. Blink 182 is the new Green Day? Indeed.
An overreactive plot demands some over-the-top performances, and some of the actors come to play. Indie-queen Posey and Cumming in particular relish their comic book-like characters, which makes sense because the movie is based on a comic book and cartoon. But in her maniacal, Cruella DeVille-on-crack performance, Posey has some fun.
There also are plenty of cute jabs peppered throughout the plot, including some personal favorites involving Carson Daly and the lyrics to “Rock Superstar” by Cypress Hill. Daly, the MTV superstar with the heart of a pure sell-out, appears as a minion of the great conspiracy -- somewhat diminishing his so-cool-he’s-uncool status.
MTV-like editing can’t help out most of the female leads, though. The script mostly calls for the cats to be innocents in the great whirlwind around them, allowing them to preen and pose while the humor flies over their heads.
While Cook and Dawson are solid, Reid stumbles to the depths that never should be seen again. The archetype of a dumb blond girl who sees the rainbow for the thunderstorm causes physical pain. Those with heart conditions or any knowledge of teen comedy conventions should be warned.
But is this really fair to the movie-makers, who set out and created some great stuff in between the necessary groan-inducing plotpoints, to lambast the movie because of its marketing? Is this the ultimate irony that flies above this reviewer’s head?
If this is irony, then irony certainly has lost its cool.
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