Over the winter break, I spent far more hours than I care to admit on my couch, starting up a borrowed home projector to watch film after film. Some of what I watched were recent winners at the Golden Globes, some were childhood favorites, some were classics I had still not seen.
One of these classics, set in 1973, tells the story of a teenage journalist and music fan who finds himself on the road with rock band “Stillwater” for a once-in-a-lifetime assignment from Rolling Stone magazine. Unabashedly full of unrestricted fun while something dark and sinister lingers in the corner of the screen, this film is perhaps one of the most interesting, comforting and confusing coming-of-age films I’ve seen in recent years. And this is perfectly reflected in a single scene.
A tour bus. A journalist. A Band Aide. A song. A home.
In the 2000 film, “Almost Famous,” Penny Lane (Kate Hudson) is the girl with no home, no family, no name. She eludes our protagonist, William (Patrick Fugit), while the two are on the road with an up-and-coming rock band. While her mysteriousness makes her seem cool, older and even desirable to the male characters in the film, it also leaves the audience with a deep sadness for the girl. What happened to this girl — this child — that caused her to be on the road with men who take advantage of her? Where are her parents, who should watch over her and tell her no? Why is she not in school, finishing her education?
While on the road, “Tiny Dancer” blasting through the radios as everyone sings along, William expresses his desire to go home — a desire Penny does not seem to share. Her response? To pretend she is completing a magic trick, waving her hand in front of his face. “Poof.” She says. “You are home.”
William smiles and the two sit on the bus, continuing forward in their journey. But why? Why does Penny see this as her home? Why do Penny’s words seem to convince William that she is telling the truth? Why is this life on the road with drinking, drugs, older men and rock the ideal time for Penny? What is she hiding? Who hurt her?
The most confusing part of this moment is that these questions are seemingly never answered. For the rest of the film we do not get an explanation into what is going on in Penny’s head, into why she chooses her actions beyond the vague “because of the music” explanation. But can life really be that simple? Can we, as children, as adults, as entertainers and the entertained truly desire such a life?
Perhaps so. Perhaps not. And yet, it's great.
