A Strength Ltd. production. Produced and directed by Nick Broomfield.
Docmeister Nick Broomfield's amusing penchant for dwelling on the frequent wild-goose-
chase nature of investigative filmmaking becomes a raison d'etre with "Kurt and Courtney," his new pic about late rock star Kurt Cobain and latter's widow Courtney Love. Subject matter --- and current publicity about pic's legal dilemmas --- will no doubt spur interest for limited theatrical, broadcast and vid exposure, if indeed further exposure isn't blocked. Yet this undeniably lively, sometimes lurid package must rate in the end as one of Broomfield's less-satisfying efforts.
Feature was pulled from Sundance World Cinema slot at the 11th hour (as well as from a skedded BBC telecast in December) due to legal complications around certain music rights and other elements. Rumors ran rife that heavy pressure from Love's camp also factored in --- as film itself duly notes. However such actions reflect on her, there's no question that the final result is highly unflattering to the musician-cum-actress.
Broomfield starts out in a surprisingly conventional biopic mode, setting the scene of 27-y.o. Cobain's April 1994 death --- by gunshot wound to the head, with drug paraphernalia and an apparent suicide note nearby --- then backtracking to sketch his very unhappy youth in depressed logging town Aberdeen , Wash.
His parents divorced early on, leaving Kurt to be shuttled between various homes (and sometimes squatting beneath a local bridge). His Aunt Mary, one of the more sympathetic and credible observers here, plays tapes demonstrating the boy's musical aptitude from toddler age on.
Love's upbringing was no picnic either, with likewise de-hitched parents and abortive stays as far afield as the U.K. and New Zealand. By the time they wed in 1992, Cobain's band Nirvana had defined the Seattle-based "grunge" sound worldwide, whileshe was a well-known punk scene gadfly with her own rising band, Hole. Both were well into various drug habits, including heroin. Love went on record as saying they first bonded "pharmaceutically."
No voices heard here dissent from the popular view of Cobain as a private, insecure soul overwhelmed by the stress of sudden, massive success; nor of Love as a less talented but highly aggressive opportunist. This limited spectrum grows problematic as pic begins to center upon "conspiracy theories" floated after Kurt's demise.
Tom Grant, a private eye hired by Love after Cobain went missing from a rehab center, now believes the former arranged the latter's death, fearing a possible divorce would compromise her marital wealth. He suggests sloppy police work ignored any suggestive evidence.
An alleged L.A. acquaintance and flamboyant character known as "El Duce" further claims Love offered him "fifty grand to whack Kurt Cobain." (El Duce later turns up dead, having apparently stumbled drunk against a moving train.)
Even Love's long-estranged father Hank proves quite willing to hint she "might" be a de facto murderess, while calling increasingly creepy attention to her "deranged thinking pattern" and "violent outburst pattern." (He's also cashed in by writing two books on the subject, one titled, "Who Killed Kurt Cobain?")
These sources hardly come across as unprejudiced, and pic doesn't bother doing much in-depth investigative work to bolster any hearsay accusations. Though at about the two-thirds point Broomfield confesses in voiceover that he no longer believes in the various "conspiracy" scenarios --- and those closer to Cobain here allow that he had long seemed unstable, possibly suicidal --- the movie nonetheless begins to seem a somewhat bogus exercise, leading nowhere in particular.
There's entertainment value, for sure, in seeing some of the duo's former cronies reminisce --- particularly Kurt's shaky-acting best friend Dylan, and Love's sarcastic ex-rocker/onetime b.f. Roz. Several note having felt her controlling hand both during their marriage, and in subsequent years as she's tried to build a mainstream career (notably in her acclaimed "People vs. Larry Flynt" role). The ex-beau faces the camera to razz the absent Courtney, "I don't care if you're Jesus and your lawyers are the 12 disciples!"
Meanwhile, "Courtney's people" are laying pressure on Broomfield's funders to pull out --- all conversations duly recorded by Broomfield for posterity, of course. Having failed to reach her directly (he makes use of two pathetically weak-kneed "paparazzi" on two occasions), the helmer finally storms a Century City stage to ask her questions about prior journalist harassment. (We're already seen and heard much evidence pertaining to Love's outbursts toward "enemy" scribes --- and one disturbing answering-machine message has a zoned-out Cobain chiming in with ugly threats as well.)
This sequence provides a capper to Broomfield's usual tactic of wide-eyed stumbling into situations where he's clearly not welcome, plus a crowning irony: The event at which Love is guest-speaking is an ACLU awards dinner, at which she hypocritically stands up for free expression in "all media."
Still, helmer's subsequent microphone grab (before being escorted off stage, natch) feels less like a bold risk than a climactic stunt. Undeniably funny, it nonetheless underlines fact that pic has found very little in the way of cumulative substance or a binding thesis.
In the end, too, we've learned very little about Cobain's demons --- his alleged chronic stomach pains from stress, etc. --- or why he, and Nirvana, became so important to so many people. Those areas might have yielded a good deal more tragic impact and insight than the rumor-chasing via peripheral figures that occupies most of "Kurt and Courtney."
Broomfield had offered to cut some legally troublesome music from the soundtrack as a means of keeping his fest/broadcast berths. Though that solution proved insufficient, print screened at midnight under upstart org Slamdunk Film Festival auspices nonetheless had a few jumps and blank spots where sound was deleted. Tech aspects are otherwise crisp, with good audio quality for remaining music.
The home tapes made by child, then adolescent Cobain, as well as his glimpses in home movies and one later interview, are by far the most potent materials here. Broomfield is far too clever a filmmaker to lend "K & C" a tabloid flavor --- yet for lack of anything more substantial, in the end it does carry a certain ambulance-chasing whiff.
Camera (color, vid and 35mm), Joan Churchill; editor, Mark Atkins; sound, Broomfield; second unit, Alex Vetter. Reviewed Jan. 18, 1998 at Elks Lodge, Park City (in Slamdunk Film Festival). Running time: 100 min.
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Date in print: Tue., Jan. 20, 1998