For a movie about a rock ‘n’ roll band, there’s not much rock ‘n’ roll in this self-consciously goofy flick, and its tricksy stylishness — from Alex Proyas (Dark City), a master of style over substance — is more of a distraction than a tonic for the feeling that we’ve seen all this before. The big joke, that this unnamed band from the trendy-seedy side of Sydney kinda sucks, might have made this a funnier and more poignant film than it is if it had been revealed early on instead of being withheld till the very end, and yet there’s a certain charm to be had in the travails of the enthusiastic but naive Freddy (Kick Gurry) and his friends as they chase a hot agent (Marton Csokas: Kangaroo Jack), a record contract, a chance to play anywhere in a social scene in which live music is getting pushed out. And while the inherently juvenile humor that rears its adolescent head too often here is no more amusing with an Australian accent than an American one, there’re still more than a few chuckles to be found in the frustrations of the artistic life as pursued by these dreamers and in the romantic musical chairs they play with one another.
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