When I first saw Vondie Curtis-Hall on such TV series as I'll Fly Away, ER and Chicago Hope, I figured the actor had good taste -- the first two shows on that list are among my alltime favourites. I recall his work in the subdued John Sayles film Passion Fish and I am reminded of his copious talent. How, then, could Curtis-Hall be the man behind the lens for the Mariah Carey vehicle Glitter? Like one of the phony characters in the film, perhaps he owed someone a hundred grand?
For some unfathomable reason, when singing starlets make feature films, the writers try to add phony grit and toughness into the stories. I guess it's some way of making the subject matter slightly risqué for those hordes of pre-pubescent fans who will make the celebrities even wealthier (any guess-timates on the box office take for next month's 8 Mile, starring Eminem?). The cross-breeding of tough material with a general lack of acting experience or originality makes Glitter about as hard-hitting as its title.
Carey plays Billie Frank, a 1980s back-up singer who dreams of making it big. She befriends Julian Dice (Max Beesley), a DJ who fancies himself able to manage her recording career and buys her contract. The character of Dice might as well have been preceded by the word "Andrew" and proceeded by the word "Clay". In a truly nasty scene, he insults Billie's lifelong friends (played by Da Brat and Tia Texada) with so little tact that the character is permanently dirtied in the eyes of the viewer. And yet the screenwriter for Glitter (Kate Lanier, thanks for nothing) actually expects some kind of pathos for the guy when Billie has a change of heart and tries to make amends with her lover. It's a leap no rational viewer can be expected to make.
Of course, Billie manages to make it big, culiminating in a big rock concert in big old Madison Square Garden with Mariah spouting a lot of big, phony tears as she sings. There's also a subplot about the "longlost mother", who is played by Valarie Pattiford. Billie's mother is the kind of woman who sleeps with still-lit cigarettes in her hand, so that should tell you all you need to know.
The acting in Glitter is considerably trying, but it's the dialogue that's truly shabby. You don't expect towering performances from someone like Mariah, but the story (based on one of Carey's "original ideas") never really gives her a chance to prove herself otherwise. There are a number of painful special effects in the picture, including some slo-mo jobbies that are laughworthy, to say the least.
It's inevitable to want to compare Glitter, a diva movie through and through, to another recent diva movie, Crossroads, starring Britney Spears. Both are miserably made and are, ultimately, self-serving. Whereas Crossroads tried to be something it could never be, at least Glitter uses the recording industry and some fairly autobiographical material as its backdrop. Also, sparingly few lines are actually awarded to Carey, so the onus isn't so much on her to carry the film as it was for Spears in the 100% artificial Crossroads. In each new scene in Glitter, the filmmakers dress Mariah up in another hideous costume, making her look the worst she's ever been. That could be a telling insight into the confidence behind the execution of this vapid, goofy project.
