PREMIERE.COM REVIEW (posted 10/3/03)

"All my life, all I ever wanted to be was a rock 'n' roll star," says Jacki (Gina Gershon), and if sheer willpower were all it took, she and her Clam Dandy bandmates—an indie-girl dream cast consisting of Lori Petty, Shelly Cole, and Drea De Matteo—would have hit the big time long ago. But then there's the issue of talent, the challenge of being discovered, and the question of whether the world really needs another semi-lesbian punk-rock band. Of course, Wachowski brothers fans will remember that Gershon was sizzling as a lesbian vixen in Bound, which means she's almost too sexy not to succeed as the band's switch-hitting lead singer.

But luck hasn't exactly smiled on these would-be riot grrrls. Now on the brink of her 40th birthday and still making $13.50 a gig, Jacki finds herself wondering just how much further she's willing to stretch her dreams. It's a popular question at the movies this month, and audiences might have a little more fun watching how the inimitable Jack Black answers it in School of Rock than sitting through this grim undertaking. However, what Prey for Rock and Roll offers that Richard Linklater's considerably more "Hollywood" (and somehow still more real) movie doesn't is a sassy, in-the-trenches look at what real musicians sacrifice in the pursuit of their one true passion—it helps that the story and songs were written by Cheri Lovedog, a former punk-rocker who actually lived it, and that the film was directed by Hollywood music supervisor Alex Steyermark.

From Jack Black to Gina Gershon, all aspiring rockers seem to be united by a fantasy that stardom will whisk them away from their mundane lives. According to Jacki, the only she feels something "real" is when she's playing guitar on stage. As for the rest of her "unreal" existence, she spends the majority of her time trying to dodge the responsibilities of the grown-up world. In fact, the lifestyles of the band members seem directly opposed to everything their mothers must have taught them—there are shoes on the couch, drugs on the coffee table, pizza for dinner, and candles left unattended in every room. And that can't even touch the best part—Jacki also works as a tattoo artist, and she and her friends have become walking canvases of antiestablishment art (just watch what happens when a Delta Nu–type blond comes to get a yellow rose on her ankle).

That same defiant us-against-the-world philosophy rears its head in the face of every challenge. No money this month? "F--- the rent!" Lead guitarist getting on your nerves? "F--- her!" Boyfriend wants you to help him act out his rape fantasy? "F--- him!" But when confronted with real problems—and there's enough melodrama here to top a movie-of-the-week marathon on Lifetime—these otherwise empowered characters seem helpless to defend themselves. Ah, well, f--- it all, right? Small price to pay for the chance to be a star.

—Peter Debruge