Review of Kurt and Courtney
by Krista May
(Picture Source: Rolling Stone, issue 683, June 2, 1994)
Kurt and Courtney. Dir. Nick Broomfield. 1998. BMG Independents (video).
Puh-lease.
Nick Broomfield needs to get over himself and get back to the business of making documentaries.
Kurt and Courtney, the latest endeavor from documentary film maker
Nick Broomfield, received a lot of attention at Sundance two years ago.
Because Courtney Love threatened to sue Sundance if they showed the film,
festival organizers cut the film from the schedule, thus relegating it to
an "alternative-to-Sundance" status. Ironically, all the hoopla
surrounding La Love's denouncements of the film and Sundance's subsequent
"banning" of the film resulted in this poor documentary receiving
a lot more positive critical attention than it deserves.
Having seen Broomfield's documentary of serial killer Aileen Wuornos (Aileen Wuornos: The Selling of a Serial Killer, 1994) and judged it to be good, I was looking
forward to Kurt and Courtney. I'd also heard friends rave about his
documentary of Heidi Fleiss (Heidi Fleiss: Hollywood Madam, 1996),
which I've not yet seen. Add to this the fact that the documentary is about
one of music's most intriguing and talented couples, and I figured that
Kurt and Courtney would surely live up to all the hype. I was wrong.
The first part of the movie is mildly interesting. We get to hear tapes
of the young Kurt Cobain earnestly singing his heart out and some tapes
of the pre-Nirvana Cobain playing the guitar. We meet his aunt, get to hear
some of his friends talk about how Kurt was conflicted about fame, and also
get to see some paintings that he'd given to an old girlfriend.
Enter Courtney Love and Broomfield's tales of all the ways that she destroyed
the genius Kurt. (We get very little about the early days of Nirvana and
their music, probably because Courtney wouldn't let Broomfield use any of
Nirvana's music in the movie and because ex-members of Nirvana wisely wanted
to distance themselves from Broomfield's litigious project.) Now, we've
heard all of this before, so there's nothing really surprising here. What
I find very tedious about Broomfield's presentation of this narrative, though,
is how the focus of the film shifts from Kurt's early days to the real subject
(and hero) of this film: Nick Broomfield. Now, this could be interesting
if Broomfield were being more self-conscious about what it is that he and
the film are really doing. Instead, though, this film just seems to be saying,
"Look at me, the poor director. Don't you feel sorry for me and what
Courtney is doing to me?"
Nick Broomfield, the broke director whose project may never be completed
because the evil Courtney Love is trying her damnedest to keep his movie
from being made. Nick Broomfield, the haggard director who tries at every
turn just to get Courtney to talk to him (because, gee, if she'd just give
him a chance, she'd see he's such a sincere guy!). Nick Broomfield, who,
out of desperation, hires the two-man team of self-proclaimed "stalkarazzi"
to help him track down Love just so he can do justice to his subject matter.
Nick Broomfield, who insists on inserting himself into every frame, either
physically or through an annoying spoken narrative. Nick Broomfield, who
knows very little about Seattle's music scene, but is doing his best to
fake it. Nick Broomfield, who tirelessly travels back and forth between
Seattle and Portland (Courtney's hometown) and shows us the same stretch
of road way too many times. Nick Broomfield, who . . . well, you get the
idea. This guy is annoying, and so is his movie.
Having said all of this, there are a few nuggets in this otherwise self-indulgent
pity fest. Broomfield's front yard conversations with Courtney's father,
Hank Harrison, give us a great insight into why Love has developed into
the person whom many people have described as "difficult" (and
much worse). Harrison goes on about how he locked Courtney in a room with
Dobermans to get her to behave. Gee . . . what a nice guy. There are several
weird moments at an ACLU banquet, where Broomfield and his "stalkarazzi"
finally encounter Love. As it turns out, the "stalkarazzi" are
too scared to say anything to Love about how they'd like to talk to her
about this movie. Instead, they mumble something about how they heard Hole
rehearsing the other day, and they sounded great, and isn't it cool that
the band is singing about California? After Love presents an ACLU award,
Broomfield takes the stage to tell everyone how hypocritical it is for her
to be presenting such an award when she tries so hard to suppress any interview,
film, etc. that she doesn't like. This moment is interesting because Broomfield
does have a point. However, once again, Broomfield becomes the focus of
this moment, as he is unceremoniously escorted offstage and, presumably,
out of the building.
One of the funniest episodes in the movie concerns one of Courtney's ex-boyfriends,
Portland rocker Rozz Rezabek, who dramatically recounts how Courtney Love
destroyed him and his career. At one point during his rant, he says something
like, "Courtney used to make lists of everything. There was this one
'Ten Things I Will Do In My Life,' which had things on it like, 'Be in movies.
Meet Michael Stipe. Be famous.', and what d'ya know! Being Courtney Love,
she did it all!! Big surprise!!" This guy is really funny and fun to
watch.
El Duce is another colorful character. When Broomfield stays out of things
long enough to let El Duce talk, El Duce weaves a semi-coherent tale of
being hired by Courtney to kill Kurt. Now, Broomfield eventually comes to
the conclusion that Courtney probably didn't hire anyone to kill Kurt, even
though he spends quite a bit of time "investigating" all of the
"theories." El Duce's proves the most enjoyable because it is
so far-fetched, and he's quite a colorful guy!
So, the film has its hilarious moments, a few nice scenes that deal with
pre-Nirvana Kurt, and an unsettling episode with the scary Hank Harrison.
However, aside from these incidents, the film is disappointing because it
yields so little; it's not very smart about Cobain, Love, or music. Instead,
it's a film that goes on endlessly about poor Nick Broomfield, who is being
screwed by the evil bitch Courtney Love.