The Doors Movie

[danceonfire]

TheWallsScreamedPoetry said:

Got to agree with DanceOnFire there Jim!
It seemed like they tried to get some celebs (or ex celebs) in the movie.....Bonnie Bramlett was the barmaid in the bar scene, Bil Graham was the New Haven promoter, Wes Studi made a tiny cameo at the start, but the most useless and pointless individual in the whole film was Idol. Jim hung out with some deadbeats true but Idols loser of a character was so unbelievably BAD! His acting nearly as poor as his singing.....at least his pal Dog was funny.....Idols Cat was a waste of the few minutes of the lives of everyone who participated in the filming of it...

I'm glad I'm not the only that couldn't stand Idol's idiocy.

Wasn't Dog supposed to be Babe Hill? That's just a guess on my part. But from the way Babe Hill has been described in all the books, he was a rather large man and, I believe a motorcycle type as well.

[ensenada]

i admit idols acting is shite! who was the porno star? wasnt babe hill supposed to be jim closest mate? but the film made it look as though the porno star dude played by michael madson (or whatever his name is) was his closest mate.

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

Ensenada said:

i admit idols acting is shite! who was the porno star? wasnt babe hill supposed to be jim closest mate? but the film made it look as though the porno star dude played by michael madson (or whatever his name is) was his closest mate.

The porno star dude played by michael madson was ONE of Jim's closest mates. Tom Baker. Then they had a big falling out over (I think) the fact Jim was becoming a big commercial star and in Bakers eyes a big phony.
Babe Hill started as a bodygaurd/minder to Jim but became one of his most trusted friends.
To this day Babe has never said anything about his time with Morrison. Baker sadly died but left some recollections of Jim in a work called Blue Center Light ....
archives.waiting-forthe-sun.net/Pages/Players/Personal/tom_baker_recalls.html

[danceonfire]

Ensenada said:

i admit idols acting is shite! who was the porno star? wasnt babe hill supposed to be jim closest mate? but the film made it look as though the porno star dude played by michael madson (or whatever his name is) was his closest mate.

The porno star was Tom Baker. In the books, Andy Worhol kept trying to get Jim to star in one of his movies, but Jim refused. I can't remember how it came about, but he somehow got Andy to use Tom Baker instead. I think Jim was pissed at Tom or something, so he recommended Tom to Andy. He and Jim were friends, but I agree that Babe Hill was closer to Jim than Tom Baker.

[ensenada]

i read in the light my fire book by ray that andy wanted jim and nico to have sex whilst andy watched. he was a slight pervert that dude! glad jim had the class and taste to decline...probably screwed nico in private though ;D

[danceonfire]

Me too. I'm also glad that Jim had the class and sense to refuse to star in one of Andy's movies.

[ensenada]

could you imagine how shit it would be to hear that jim starred in a porno! ;D it would probably be a raritie highly sort after by female fans though, come to think of it. jims naked white ass going up and down......that really would have fucked his image up! lol ;D

[danceonfire]

Yeah, look what happened over Miami, even though he didn't expose himself. If he had starred in one of Andy's movies, he never would have lived it down.

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

"C'MON, BABY, BITE MY BULLET"
Val Kilmer Rekindles Jim Morrison's Fire

At Long Beach Airport, you get your visitor's pass and walk through a gate, through a time warp, down a long line of trailers. Sitting, standing, eating linguine are hundreds of travelers from the past, ersatz hippies and yippies and modsters. Long straight hair, bell-bottoms, huge collars, platform shoes, jiggling breasts, wispy sideburns. Check you watch. Is this the Twilight Zone? Actually, it is lunchtime on the set of The Doors. Oliver Stone's next movie colossus. The film, due for release next spring, will chronicle the life and fast times of '60s rocker and icon Jim Morrison and his band, the Doors. Val Kilmer is in his trailer, listening to Jimi Hendrix on a portable CD. He has the looks of a matinee-idol, the strong jaw and cheek-bones, the hypnotic gray-green eyes. Though he doesn't smoke, Kilmer is sprawled across a bench sofa, one foot up, smoking a True blue, "the cigarette for nonsmokers," he explains. "It gives my voice that rough quality," says Kilmer as he waves good-bye to his wife, the dark, beautiful Joanne Whalley-Kilmer. Val and Joanne--who starred together in the mystery-thriller Kill Me Again--live in relative seclusion on a ranch outside Taos, New Mexico.

Kilmer's career began at seventeen, when he was the youngest student ever admitted to the drama division at the Juilliard School. He co-wrote, along with several classmates, a play that was later presented at the Public Theater, with Kilmer in the leading role. Joseph Papp saw the show and cast him in his production of Henry IV, Part One. Following that, Kilmer made his Broadway debut in Slab Boys, which co-starred Sean Penn and Kevin Bacon. He made his motion-picture debut in 1984 in Paramount's Top Secret! and next appeared in Martha Coolidge's Real Genius. He was the straitlaced alter ego to Tom Cruise in Top Gun, then the wisecracking warrior in Willow, and recently starred in Kill Me Again.

Mike Sager: How did the role of Jim Morrison come up? Was it the resemblance? Sitting there in those leather pants, you look just like Morrison. It's eerie.

Val Kilmer: It was leather pants that killed Jim Morrison. It's like living in a wet suit. There's no circulation. I'm sure that's what did it to him.

MS: So were you bandied about as the definitive Morrison? How did you get the part? Did you do a screen test?

VK: Well, Oliver Stone and I met and talked. He wrote a lot of notes. It was very much like an interview. He was much more interested in my ideas about the character than saying, "This is what I'm gonna do, and this is what I think the guy is." He also asked me if I could sing, and I said, "Why don't I make a tape for you?" And that turned into a video, just to get an idea for myself what I needed to work on.

MS: What'd you sing?

VK: I sang "The End," "Roadhouse Blues," "L.A. Woman" and "Peace Frog." It's a great song and a terrible title.

MS: Were you a Morrison fan?

VK: No. But it's strange--that book about Morrison's life, No One Here Gets Out Alive. That book had been given to me maybe ten times. And I love books. But I always threw it away. I have no explanation for why. It was always just, Who cares? In capital letters.

MS: Right, right.

VK: I never owned a Doors album, but I knew the hits on the radio. Now, getting into it, I've discovered that Morrison's musical taste about the band's sound--well, we share the same taste. Paul Rothchild produced the Doors, and he's in charge of the music for the movie. So it's like, we'll be doing a number, and I'll say, "Did he like this song?" And Paul will say, "He hated the song." And I'll say, "Oh, good. 'Cause I hate it too." As an actor, to get into the mood for the song, I'll focus on that. If you don't like it, you'll do it a certain way. Really, nine times out of ten we have the same taste.

MS: That's wild. That's how Morrison woulda said it, huh?

VK: Yeah. Right on. Gimme a beer.

MS: So the music has been the best part of this gig for you?

VK: Well, Paul's been around. And two of the Doors have been around a lot, Robby and Densmore, and when they're happy with the music we play--the people who were really there--it gives you a good feeling.

MS: So they're your audience in this case. It's like you're still onstage.

VK: Yeah. And the audience themselves--the extras for the concert scenes. Bill Graham, one of the executive producers, has been in front of what, maybe 10,000 or more audiences through his career? Flying back and forth every week from New York to L.A. and doing the introductions at the Fillmore East and the Fillmore West. One day we were shooting a concert, and he came offstage and grabbed me. He said, talking about the crowd, "These are the best actors I've ever seen in my life!" They were really into it. From the beginning of the day, the A.D. kept having to tell them to save it. They had so much energy. It was more than supportive. They were involved in the creation.

MS: Where did you shoot the concert footage for the film?

VK: At the Whiskey A Go-Go, on Sunset in L.A., the same place Morrison played, and a place across the street, which we made into the London Fog, one of the joints on the scene at the time. And last week we did the Miami concert where he got busted in 1969, supposedly for indecent exposure.

MS: Where'd you do that?

VK: At the place here where they used to do championship wrestling. Where they did the Rockys and some of Raging Bull. Olympic Auditorium.

MS: So when you got the part, did you go back and research Morrison's life?

VK: Um-hmm.

MS: You had to go out and buy that book you kept throwing away.

VK: No, someone gave me yet another copy.

MS: And?

VK: And when I read it, my impressions were kind of like a script: well, you can use this or that. But also, knowing that this book was yet another version of reality, I didn't really take it as a bible. With people who have lived, there is always a point where you have to accept that you will not be a carbon copy. You also come to realize that in playing this person, the people who actually knew him, the people whose lives he's still very important to, will be hurt, because you're not gonna do their version of him. And also, there are always things that you purposely want to adjust or change, because it'll make the story better. Or because that's your desire. But you feel a lot of pain because of it. You're torn between acting and obligation.

MS: How do people react when they see you play someone they really knew?

VK: It's just incredible. They get very strong feelings. A friend of mine [William DeAcutis] was in the first play at the Public on AIDS [The Normal Heart], and it almost destroyed him. He would get letters: "My lover is you. He's embodied in you." And I've had it too. Morrison is like a religion to some people. I can't know all the intricacies of what his life represented. But there are things about it I understand--like fame. I know that's what killed Jim Morrison. And I've made a lot of choices in my life, even shying away from opportunities for films sometimes, just because the issues of fame are something I am very conscious of.

I think the secret of surviving in this business is not embracing the fame. And I think Morrison did embrace it. Very bright guy, Morrison. He understood media. Intuitively. And I think in some ways part of what made him a really dynamic character, and his music so dynamic, was that he did go for what he was most afraid of. I related strongly to that about him.

He had the ability, I don't think always successfully, to sort of give himself an out. That's the humor in the music. I never understood that part of the music until I came to this role. I used to say that the organ in the Doors' music really irritated me. But I didn't get that is was...uh...comedy, Brechtian style. I didn't get that there is some validity to the style. It sounds grand, but it's not really--it's the same type of approach that Beckett will use, a device that's theatrical. Here's this serious playwright doing shtick, like Chaplin's shtick with a...a bowler! It's too serious. It shouldn't be. That's what you think at first. But you learn that comedy helps you get your emotions free for the real tragedy. The Doors did that very well. And consciously.

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

MS: I call it the "J Stroke." You lead 'em down a path, and then you twist 'em around.

VK: Well, I started with the similarities. He related strongly to the desert, and I spent a lot of time growing up out there. Now I live in the West. I think we share that romance of travel.

MS: What other similarities are there between you and Morrison?

VK: Morrison considered himself a poet. He was foremost a poet. They'd put the music to what he'd already written. And I can understand that part of him. I love writing poetry.

MS: Since you got the part? Or always?

VK: Before and during. What I find happens in my writing is I'll emulate the author that I'm reading at the time. If it's Thomas Mann the sentences start getting longer, 'cause at the core I'm an actor, so I look at--

MS: Well, a writer learns at first by imitation. You just start to evolve a style of your own after a while.

VK: Yep. And something else about Morrison--I've always been interested in the '60s. [leans over to the tape recorder] Can I make an announcement?

MS: You're the star.

VK: Jan Dixon, where are you?

MS: And who is Jan Dixon?

VK: He was our nanny, when we were growin' up, for me and my two brothers. Jan had just got back from Vietnam and was an art student in the Valley. And he was our nanny. He used to explain to us the meanings of songs like "Rocky Raccoon" on the way home from somewhere in his red Mustang.

MS: That's some nanny.

VK: Yeah, he was like a double older brother. He was involved in the scene. I remember years ago, driving in the Mustang on the freeway, and we passed the Hollywood Bowl. The Doors were playing--and the traffic jams! He had tickets, and he was rushing us home so he could go back and see this show. So we kind of had a peek into what was going on, even though we were too young, 'cause he was in my living room. He was the whole kit and caboodle: an artist, and he had just got back from Vietnam, maybe inside a year. I don't remember, exactly. I would like to find him. Jan, where are you? I heard he moved up to Oregon. He married one of his girlfriends and named his son Jesus. But she didn't like the name Jesus, so he called him Josh, but Jan still calls him Jesus on the sly--

MS: That's great.

VK: --when no one is lookin'.

MS: O.K. Consider this an APB. Jan Dixon! You out there? Call Val...So, you're one of my generation--I'm thirty-four. I wasn't a '60s kid, I was right after that. But I was pretty influenced by it. I still Question Authority. Does anyone remember that?

VK: It was a period when I was waking up to something right outside the neighborhood. There were all the deaths, peoples' older brothers and sisters who had OD'd or freaked out. And on the other hand, there was the grooviness of it all. Everything was so cool. That's something I've always felt very cheated about. I had to grow up in this time where nothing is cool, except saying, "It's not cool."

And the way in the '60s that the youth effectively exercised their rights, their freedom to understand the value of our government, and then criticize it. It seems, with my peers, all we were left with was the criticism.

MS: There's no enemy anymore. And it just doesn't feel as thrilling as the '60s, does it? Those guys seemed really thrilled. The '60s began as such a fun thing. Hippies. Flower children. Groovy. Childish to a point. Put flowers in the guns. Youth and promise. And then came the '70s and people needed law degrees and M.B.A.'s.

VK: Yeah, like when you grow out of the leather pants. It's funny. What made Morrison, what made up his dynamic, was that he really embodied so many of the qualities of everybody. His dad was in the military. Morrison was really a traditionalist. He preferred drinking to drugs. He used to say, "Drinking is the American way, and that's my scene." He was his father's son--his father was a navy officer, a warrior, a military man. Morrison was disciplined. If you're gonna drink, you're gonna really drink. If you're gonna be on the scene, then be on the scene.

MS: Take no prisoners, not even yourself.

VK: Really. He had no possessions. Only books. Literally. He had that one pair of leather pants. And no real home.

MS: Was he--did he have a problem with being alone?

VK: Yeah.

MS: That's what it was?

VK: I think so. He was so very lonely. And, you know, at some level, all entertainment or art has in it that search for love.

MS: Love. Acceptance. Look, ain't I great?

VK: Yeah. The Doors were...they were absurd. But check out their recognition now. Somebody said that in any given twenty-four-hour period over the airwaves in America, 8 percent of the playtime on classic-rock stations is Doors music. They had the kind of point of view that has enabled their music to live past its own period. It comes back to humor and meaning again. Morrison, the band, was self-mocking in a way.

MS: It sort-of cut the critics off at the pass, didn't it?

VK: Yep. And I think Morrison did that with his life.

MS: What do you mean?

VK: Well, he's one of those human characters that seem to be only visiting. Like Hendrix. Janis Joplin. He's just not...he's not from here! Just visiting the planet. It's so pure, what they did, the embodiment of the energy of that time. Like Elvis. Have you seen that bumper sticker: ELVIS IS DEAD--FACE IT?

MS: How much do you think death has to do with the Morrison thing? I can't see going to a Stones concert now.

VK: Well, that's what I'm leading to. It's quite possible that Morrison viewed his life with the romance of the tragic poet. Even his lifestyle was constructed in the same way as he would labor over a piece of poetry or a song. And viewing it like that, I think he looked--with utter sincerity--for the most poetic time to split. I really think it was that kind of conscious decision. He loved Blake. Blake's about the romance of that ideal of excess. I think Morrison probably looked at his life as if it were a long suicide note to those who loved him.

MS: How does that hook into you and your life? Is playing Morrison screwing you up? Do you go home and swill beer?

VK: The reverse. I've never been more religious or healthy. It's funny. I believe you have to have this special kind of sanity to be insane while you're acting. This goes well with Oliver. He really likes gettin' your blood going. But sometimes he may want something done in a way I wouldn't do it. Then it's a matter of accepting the conditions of going to work.

MS: Playing with other children.

VK: Yeah. And then again, an actor has his secret freedom, which the director dreads. There's a certain point at which--

MS: They can't tell you what to do?

VK: Well, you want to fulfill the desires of the director, just to get through the day! Fine! O.K.! I give up. I don't care. I'll do it. I'll try--but it doesn't work! It doesn't come out. So then you have to work together, because your own body's an obstacle. It won't come out of your face. The words will not come out that way, or the body doesn't move that way. There are times, for example, when I have a way of thinking about what a scene should be about. But sometimes it doesn't get filmed that way, or the director just disagrees.

MS: So in a sense, in a very fragmented way, what you're doing, as part of a cooperative effort, is putting forth a very broad concept of a man that may or may not end up being exactly what you want?

VK: You can absolutely fulfill the desires of the director, or the obligations to the camera, or the limitations of the script, or the abundance of the script. And still you can be very personal and intimate, in a way that can reveal something which they may discover in the editing room is what the scene is really about. Or it ends up not being what the scene is about. There's magic. There's mystery. It's personal. It's playing with other children. Those things give you hope when you get down.

You know that line of Tennessee Williams's? I don't know it exactly, but the gist of it is that the real discipline of the writer is not in creating diamonds but in learning how to cut them.

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

MS: You have to know when less is more....So what do you mean you've become more religious and healthy since you've been doing this part?

VK: [long pause] I think Morrison tried to keep open an avenue of hope through spirituality. But then again, I think Morrison was always a bit of a cop-out because he was deathly frightened of committing to a practice, a condition, a way to behave, something to live for or live out of. I think cool was very important to him, and I've always battled that vanity. I think I've found through playing this character an opportunity to reexperience some of my life, to reevaluate what may or may not have happened. It seems to have strengthened things I have always believed.

MS: What kinds of things?

VK: Oh, to believe in God, and to believe in a reality that's a foundation for living. To believe and understand. To put yourself on the line, to confront that...that fear.

MS: Of fame? I get the idea that fame doesn't really appeal to you.

VK: Well, even for the people that want it, fame has nothing to do with living. Really. For all the justifications and numbers...You mentioned the Rolling Stones. I don't know any of 'em, but it seems that their idealogy has so much to do with numbers. How many albums, how many people, how much money. It seems that they've lost some of the divinity they worked so hard to be able to have. It's not really grace with those Budweiser advertisements.

MS: Do you think Morrison had an adjustment problem? I mean, you speak as a well-adjusted person. You seem to have a grasp on the things that are in opposition within your own brain.

VK: Well, I think part of his myth, his mythic proportion, is that he seemed to be able to make sense in the middle of a four-day binge. And be articulate. That he seemed to also represent what I guess Dylan does too--

MS: Or Hunter Thompson.

VK: Yeah. You can burn the candle at both ends--

MS: And still say something.

VK: Yeah. And regardless of how Oliver edits the film, or how he wrote it, or how I act in it in the end, those are the facts. He did die. So the result of that lifestyle is very prevalent in this film. And then also some of the things that Oliver has chosen to accentuate about the character--

MS: What sort of things?

VK: I would probably ruin the mystery. I mean just how he lived--you can imagine.

MS: Morrison said, "When we perform we're participating in the creation of a world, and we celebrate the creation with the audience...The music we make goes out to the audience and interacts with them; they go home and interact with the rest of reality." Is that where you hook into Morrison? His bottom line, if you will, was more artist than rock star.

VK: On his tombstone they've written POET. It's like Gregory Corso said in that wonderful documentary Whatever Happened to Kerouac?: he said that's what they all want, to be called a poet. Why? 'Cause it's spiritual! It's divine. You know, when it's pure, when it's searing, when it's absolute. And I think that's something Morrison strove for. What he was trying to achieve. And I think that of the three categories--lifestyle, poetry, music--he was probably most successful at it in his lifestyle. Even though his best poetry, I think, is in the music. But the main thing was that he saw his life as kind of an epic...Would you ask me that same question again?

MS: Which one?

VK: What you just asked, 'cause I don't think I answered it.

MS: You kind of did. I asked if you hooked into Morrison on the level at which he was an artist participating in the center of creation. Is that the common ground that you've found with him?

VK: It's what gets me going. It's what's enabled me to survive and not go down avenues that I know are deceptive, which was very much part of Morrison's deal. He truly didn't care. If the dragon wasn't staring at him in the morning, he'd rush out and try to find it. At the top of his lungs. As loud and as fast and as hard as he could. At the expense of...He caused a lot of people a lot of pain. A lot of broken spirits that I've met, who still love him, were tortured--and many destroyed--by him. As many as he affected in a positive way, he hurt plenty.

MS: Like a lot of stars, people really took him personally.

VK: Yeah. And in a lot of ways he couldn't help it. For me it's been very much an objective to live a healthy life. But there is an obligation to the business and the fans and the responsibility of what that means. Freedom with responsibility. The element of fame and the obligation can be staggering. The image, the responsibility of living up to it. Lennon, Morrison--they did try.

MS: To shake being a rock 'n' roll star, you mean?

VK: Yeah. Morrison did. At least, he left the country and tried to start over again. You have to do what feels right for you, not necessarily what your fans or your agent wants.

MS: Do you think Morrison regretted that he only had three years of the Doors?

VK: I don't think he had any regrets for what he was able to get away with, or got to experience, or the people he met. He really jammed a lot. But I remember reading one article where he said if he had it to do over again, he'd be a quiet artist on the garden trip. Which I believe. I think in a different time, that's how he would have done it. And that's sort of how I started, trying to be quiet, and build.

MS: Do you ever worry that it seems a person has to be a little crazy or really out there to end up achieving art?

VK: I think it's Flaubert who said you should be orderly and quiet in your life so you can be violent and dangerous in your art.

Don't get me wrong. I've had--have--doubts. It's inevitable when you confront a mystery while it's unfolding. But you also have to trust that it'll work out. Something I spent a lot of time grieving over, a long time ago, is the fact that there are no examples. Where are my teachers out in the field?

MS: When it comes down to making the decision, only Val can. Is that what you're saying?

VK: Well, you can ask. Sometimes triumph can be very harmful. You have to trust your destiny. You have to trust that you'll end up taking advantage of the opportunity.

MS: It's kind of interesting that Jim Morrison is still such an icon today. Morrison was about disorder and chaos, and here we are, twenty-five years later, in a time totally opposite the '60s. There are lifestyle busts. Mandatory minimum jail sentences. Just Say No. Participate in the system. Be orderly. And yet at the same time there's a resurgence of all the music of Morrison and his time. Classic rock. Retro pop culture. The Doors movie. It seems that people are listening to the music but not hearing the words.

VK: In his best light, it was Morrison's joy and explosive energy to be alive that were fantastic about the guy. He's like brutiful, you know, brutal and beautiful. He's a hero in that American tradition. Good looks, brains, that Wild West sensibility where people were proud of...where people utilized all their faults.

MS: The rugged individualist.

VK: Yeah. He embodied it. So that, I think, is the enduring attraction.

MS: So maybe there's a nostalgia for that--for that type of figure as well as for the music.

VK: Also, I think, because rock's foundation is freedom and looseness. And Morrison had that Irish, impish sensibility. It comes through in the music and how he lived. He lived out his ideal. And that's always respectable. The absurdity of art today is--and it's a crystalline example of what's happening with everything--the absurdity of art is when a human being or a corporation spends $80 million on a single piece of art. What does that indicate? It's idolatry. I mean, it's trying to find some justification for the really--the hordes of dollars. They're trying to purge themselves some way. Looking for a hero.

MS: The Horatio Alger aspect of rock 'n' roll?

VK: Well, I don't know the answer to your question, but I doubt that the popularity of the music has as much to do with Jim Morrison's lifestyle as it does the music just having a mood in it that people are responding to. Maybe the two things are synonymous. I suppose I should know, since I'm playing him. But I don't.

ANDY: [knocks on the open door of the trailer and enters] Val, we're bringing you in, in about five minutes, to rehearse and shoot.

VK: Andy, Mike. Mike, Andy.

A: So, Val. You all set? Five minutes, O.K.?

VK: Cool.

MS: Tonight you're gonna do the big drunk scene, right?

VK: Uh-huh. I might die. It's a good day to die. Maybe Oliver should call the movie Died on the Fifth of July.

MS: How does that work on your psyche? Does playing a scene like this affect you?

VK: Well, to a degree you're in trouble if it doesn't. But is is just acting, you know.

A: Val? You coming?

VK: On my way, man.

By Mike Sager
Interview Magazine, November 1995

[stuart]

When stone does films on real people, he really should get used to putting THE TRUTH down on screen......


Oliver Stone

[danceonfire]

stuart said:

When stone does films on real people, he really should get used to putting THE TRUTH down on screen......


Oliver Stone

I agree. He had so much bullshit in the movie it wasn't funny!

From what I have read, the people that are doing the Wonderland Avenue movie are going to stick as closely to Danny's book as possible.

[jym]

I tend to agree with Alex on this, if you have a movie about a bookish guy reading & writing poetry you have a boring movie, a medium that is somewhat dependent on movement.

& Oliver Stone did put the truth about Jim onscreen, one aspect of him, but that is a truth. The burning down the house scene irritates me because it never happened & shouldn't be in there because it's a criminal act that Jim probably never would have done. & there should be ONE scene of Jim sitting at a table writing, other than that I think it's a pretty good movie. & if Oliver didn't do a movie we'd be waiting for a R$ay movie, believe me it wouldn't even be in the same ballpark & would just advance R$ay's agenda (i.e The Poet In Exile) more so than Oliver Stone did!

& the thing about Wonderland Ave was after Jim died so did the book, so look for the movie to only cover those years & not mention or gloss over the rest except Danny died in 05

[ensenada]

I like the film for wat it is, its entertaining. some half truths and some complete bullshit. stone did portray part of jims character, but no the other parts. i fuckin like it anyway. lent my dvd to jedi, so i expect some input from her soon

[stuart]

Maybe someone should have explained the actual meaning of the word- OBJECTIVE to stone.................

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

stuart said:

Maybe someone should have explained the actual meaning of the word- OBJECTIVE to stone.................

Maybe someone should explain the term 'talking out your arce' to YOU!

[stuart]

Actually Alex Mate, im not talking out my arse AT ALL, stone was NOT objective and it's clear as day to see, i agree with jym that there should have been a scene with jim(at least one!) at a table writing his poetry or perhaps discussing it in the doors office.

I will always say how i feel on matters alex......ALWAYS.

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

jym said:

I tend to agree with Alex on this, if you have a movie about a bookish guy reading & writing poetry you have a boring movie, a medium that is somewhat dependent on movement.

& Oliver Stone did put the truth about Jim onscreen, one aspect of him, but that is a truth. The burning down the house scene irritates me because it never happened & shouldn't be in there because it's a criminal act that Jim probably never would have done. & there should be ONE scene of Jim sitting at a table writing, other than that I think it's a pretty good movie. & if Oliver didn't do a movie we'd be waiting for a R$ay movie, believe me it wouldn't even be in the same ballpark & would just advance R$ay's agenda (i.e The Poet In Exile) more so than Oliver Stone did!

& the thing about Wonderland Ave was after Jim died so did the book, so look for the movie to only cover those years & not mention or gloss over the rest except Danny died in 05

Ray is the one who said the cupboard scene never happened and we know what a liar Ray is so his word means nothing.......also Rays agenda and the reasons for it are well documented so his outbursts against Stone are driven by spite rather than any knowledge of facts.
Ray and Jim were not close after 1968 so Ray knows little of what Jim did outside The Doors. Ray was jealous of jims friends hence his attacks on them in his book. Lisciandro and company were privvy to more than Ray and I have yet to see guys like Frank make as much fuss as Ray but then Ray also has another agenda of the Jim Myth to fuel his projects. Most of this vitriol against Stone comes from Ray and Ray tells lies so who knows whats true and what is not.
Stone explained that Pam's neighbour told him that the setting alight to the cupboard scene actually happened and how afterwards pam came crying to him about it.
John remembered seeing Jim with a knife to some girls throat so Jim was not a saint and known to fits of violence. Jim was NOT a studious hard working poet and thats all...he was also a manic depressive drunk who took drugs and was prone to outbursts of violence.
Stones film reflected that and embellished it to make a Hollywood movie......what he never did was turn Jim Morrison into a sad loser with a daddy complex like someone else I could mention!

[TheWallsScreamedPoetry]

stuart said:

Actually Alex Mate, im not talking out my arse AT ALL, stone was NOT objective and it's clear as day to see, i agree with jym that there should have been a scene with jim(at least one!) at a table writing his poetry or perhaps discussing it in the doors office.

I will always say how i feel on matters alex......ALWAYS.

Yes U R talking out your arce....you parrot Ray Manzarek with your constant whining that Jim was not shown as this that or the fucking other....Jim WAS shown writing poetry and WAS shown discussing it with Pamela.....or have you NOT actually seen the film!