I’m a negative creep
I’m a negative creep
I’m a negative creep
And I’m stoned
Nirvana “Negative Creep” Bleach Sub Pop, 1989
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where Kurt Cobain was born, and what his lousy childhood was like, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, in which case this is the documentary for you. And if you want to know the interesting stuff, like how Kurt wrote all those incredible songs, or how he went from East Bumfuck, WA to worldwide fame in 30 seconds, there’s about a minute and half of that information in this movie too. Unfortunately it’s buried somewhere beneath two hours of TMI home movies, overwrought animation, dreadful orchestrations of Nirvana songs, and awkward interviews.
Director Brett Morgen took his cue from childhood Kurt’s hyperactive behavior and made a documentary that flits from subject to subject. This could have led to a fast-paced movie, but mostly it’s a missed opportunity. Given complete access to the entire Cobain family, and a storage locker full of Kurt’s old journals and cassette tapes, Morgen just yadda yadda yaddas over the good stuff: a contract with Sub Pop flashes during a montage sequence, and that’s the last we ever hear of that. Kurt is alone in a room, chugging away on an acoustic guitar, playing an early version of “Breed” – but then we cut to Kurt on the phone, Kurt watching TV, and so on.
The most frustrating sequence shows Kurt caught in the act of writing “Been a Son.” We see the chords in the notebook, the scribbled lyrics, hear Kurt on the acoustic guitar – for twenty seconds. It’s a great moment, but why isn’t this the entire film? With access to the journals, early demos, and people who were around at the time, why not find out who inspired the song? Why not let us hear the early versions all the way through, and then play the album version, so we can see the songwriting process from start to finish?
According to interviews with the director, the idea was to humanize Cobain and take him off his pedestal. But how necessary is it to do that in 2015? Kurt was called “the voice of his generation,” but that was almost 25 years ago. The generation that thought he was a god is probably chasing teen kids off their own lawns by now. Also, showing Kurt’s human side might not be such a great idea, because he was apparently not such a great human. He can’t seem to go five minutes without making a snotty comment about other musicians – sure, go after Guns n’ Roses and Poison, but why bother to do a snotty imitation of Chris Cornell of Soundgarden? It comes off more pissy than funny from a guy who was the King at that time and could have afforded to be a little gracious.
The footage of Kurt playing with his young daughter is kind of sweet, and some of the interviews are real “gets” – I don’t think anyone has ever interviewed Tracy Marander (the Girl from “About a Girl”) before. There’s also some good context provided by Kurt’s mom (who is made up to look just like Courtney Love – OMG how fucked up is that?). But if you really want to see a good documentary about Kurt Cobain and where he came from, dig up a copy of 2006’s Kurt Cobain: About a Son. Using mostly recordings of Michael Azerrad’s interviews with Cobain, and new footage of Pacific Northwest locations important to the story, director A.J. Schnack does an artful job of showing who Kurt was and where he came from. Schnack has the sort of faith in his material that is absent from Morgen’s film, and that faith what you need to make a good movie.