The Doors (1991)

In between, there are doors

Calling this movie "The Doors" is misleading. It would be more accurate to call it "Jim Morrison and Those Other Guys In the Band," since that is how it's presented.

It's always tempting to latch onto a rock legend in these rock biopics, and Oliver Stone clings like a limpet to the ghost of Jim Morrison. Acid-soaked scenery and mysticism are in every scene, but Stone seems content to wallow in the rock'n'roll debauchery rather than get into Morrison's head.

It opens with a voiceover of Jim Morrison's poetry, as we slowly fade into a stalled recording session. Then it flips back to 1949, as Morrison's family drives through the desert. The boy catches a glimpse of several Indians by the road -- and one of them dies as the family leaves.

Then it flips ahead to Morrison's (Val Kilmer) years at college -- he crashes a party for a pretty girl, makes arty films, acid-trips, and devotes himself to poetry. Then his pal Ray Manzarek (Kyle McLachlan) creates a rock band, with Morrison's poetry and voice as the centerpiece. Soon The Doors become a fixture in L.A. -- and then a famed band.

But as the Doors become more famous, Morrison increasingly loses himself in the messianic-Dionysian-rocker role that has been set out for him. He weds a witch-journalist (Katherine Quinlan) but loves his fey girlfriend Pamela (Meg Ryan). And when he outrages the authorities with the threat of public exposure, the spiral starts that will only lead to death.

Stone certainly knew how to evoke the golden ages of rock'n'roll. Lots of sex, kinetic concerts, and bizarre behavior where Morrison jumps up on platforms and screams, "I am the Lizard King! I can do anything!" The whole movie just kind of sweeps you off your feet.

And Stone is quite brilliant with the direction. The movie is filmed like an acid trip -- shifting multicoloured skies, Indian ghosts, shadows on the sand, and eerie lighting. And it touches on other aspects of the late sixties -- the Factory, Nico, and the belief that something violent and beautiful was about to erupt.

Unfortunately, Stone seems so enamored of the atmosphere that he never quite gets around to making a biopic. The other Doors are relegated to a frame for Morrison's bizarre behavior, and after the first half hour, they basically fade away. And he gets too enamored of his own style with the Indian ghost, and the arty "dead man" final scenes.

Val Kilmer does a shockingly good job with the languid, unpredictable energy of Morrison. He sings well too. Sadly, his performance is stuck in a one-note character -- Stone opts to potray him just as a random, sleazy, wild jerk, and we don't get a single insight into his thoughts. Sure, Morrison could be horrible. But this is Jim Morrison as rock cliche, not as a human being.

And sadly, none of the other actors get much chance to expand on their roles -- the other Doors actors, including MacLachlan, basically play slightly annoyed accessories, and Meg Ryan plays a sweet girl without many other dimensions. Although Crispin Glover has a tiny, memorable role as Andy Warhol.

"The Doors" opens into a beautiful psychedelic movie, but Stone fails to give it a soul. It's a fun biopic full of the sixties atmosphere, but it never quite manages to be much more. November 21, 2006

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