The things that remain of interest here is not the backstory, not even with its Goodfellas vibe all over the place, but the creation of the music, and the creation of the music is where Clint Eastwood’s take on the Marshall Brickman book for the film version of “Jersey Boys” falters. But it is really the only place where it seriously falters. Everywhere else this is a gripping tale of early 1960s New Jersey where a kid from the neighborhood is friended by a local hoodlum and his boss and makes good. Aided and abetted by a world class songwriter and a gay record producer.
None of it is shocking and anybody with a rudimentary knowledge of Frankie Valli’s career is gonna be particularlyly surprised. Kudos to Clint for not even attempting to show creative genius at work, you always end up with Tchaikovsky riding on a sleigh in St. Petersburgh and Eastwood doesn’t really try. Unfortunately “Jersey Boys” isn’t a Mafia yarn, it is the story of one of the most popular pop bands of the early 1960s, a band which, like the Beatles wrote their own songs and like the Drifters, played em in the Brill Building. With one of the most unique singers Valli to work with, it keeps shifting the focus from Valli to the other three Seasons. 45 minutes, you read it right, before the band starts recording, it takes its sweet damn time getting there but once it does the songs kick in nicely, clean well performed versions shot straight. But no sense of the inner tick tock of the bands creative abilities.
The performances are first rate, Christopher Walken as the local Godfather underplays very very well and Vincent Piazza, of Sopranos fame, in a central roll asthe reckless Tommy Devito who nearly derails the band, is exceptional. So is John Lloyd Young, the California native who plays Valli so straight he is almost stoney and sings so well (though on Broadway there were singers off stage reaching the high notes and I assume the same is true here) it is like John is channeling the man. In which case, Valli is a real bore. There is something missing here and it really infects the entire movie: there is no joy, it is a sad sorry slog for over two hours. This is an Eastwood (who shows up on the TV in “Rawhide” in one scene -man, what the hell was he thinking?) problem, “Bird” was a miserable movie and this movie is just terrible with Francine Valli, the unfortunately daughter. Why is there no breakthrough here, why is there no revelation? Valli is a drag who doesn’t learn his lesson. In one scene, Eastwood goes from the other three members of the band at a Christmas part-orgy and Valli with his family and Grandparents. Valli looks completely miserable. Was that the intention?
Erich Bergen as Bob Gaudio isn’t having much of a movie either. This Gaudio is s so mechanical, the show feels like art is mechanical. A business. Maybe Eastwood is right, maybe the truth of creation is hard work (though I didn’t feel that about the Broadway production, and when I saw it both John and Erich were still in the show), it still doesn’t make for a great movie.
Though it might make for a good movie, and from the astounding sense of place and time in every shot, to the almost astounding lack of sentimentality and romance in every single shot, even the shoot to fame isn’t a thrill, it is very clear about what happens when a band breaks. It seems like truth and, in one of the most disturbing scenes in the movie, the grieving Frankie can’t talk of love for his daughter, all he can speak of is responsibility. “Jersey boys” is the story of four kids who worked hard and toured a lot… I guess that’s what happeend. It sure sounded like there was more going on.
Grade: B
