FemaleFirst.co.uk: DVD: Stoned [DVD] [2005]

Stoned [DVD] [2005]
enlarge	Director: Stephen Woolley Actors: Paddy Considine, James D. White, Ras Barker, Will Adamsdale, Monet Mazur Studio: Uca Category: DVD List Price: ~~£9.99~~ Buy New: £1.34 as of 24/11/2009 03:11 GMT details You Save: £8.65 (87%) New (19) Used (6) from £1.34 Seller: selectcheaper Rating: 3 reviews Sales Rank: 14692 Format: PAL Rating: Suitable for 15 years and over Region: 2 Number Of Discs: 1 Running Time: 98 Minutes Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.2 Dimensions (in): 7.1 x 5.4 x 0.6 EAN: 5050582541472 ASIN: B0010Y9XQW Theatrical Release Date: 2005 Release Date: February 25, 2008 Availability: Usually dispatched within 1-2 business days


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Customer Reviews: Good and bad points August 21, 2008 Mr. D. A. Cure (Droitwich) 1 out of 1 found this review helpful There are elements of this that are well researched and well put together, however, the film falls short on several points. br /Firstly, it paints Brian Jones in too much of a negative light - focussing on his drug problems and issues with women. Let us not forget the behaviour (particularly subsequently) of his band mate(s)- pots and kettles come to mind. br /Secondly, it more or less follows the premiss of the book "Who Killed Christopher Robin", whereby the blame is laid upon Thorogood. Since 1994, further research has led to the expansion of the investigation into Jones' death and there is far more evidence to point the finger at Keylock and the record company management. At the point of his separation from the Rolling Stones, Jones owned the band's name, which could have led to a very nasty legal dispute (particularly given the fact that he was in collaboration with other musicians such as Lennon and Hendrix at the time with a view to forming a new group). The alibi Keylock gave to remove himself from suspicion has been proved to have been invented and chemical evidence from the dead body points to the fact that Jones was stabbed with a syringe of insulin, before being drowned in a water tank (then thrown into the pool). Keylock then hurriedly burnt all his possessions (I wonder why) before blagging his way out of trouble. The burden of guilt laid at Thurogood is based on a supposed deathbed confession. The man who heard it? Yup - Tom Keylock. br / br /Anyway, it is hoped that the truth will materialise very soon, but it would have been interesting to see a bit more accuracy in the way of promoting Brian Jones' talents and credentials over his flaws. These points aside, it is certainly an interesting insight into the 60's scene and if it only serves to re-awaken interest into this period of the Stones and particularly Brian Jones, then it will have done some good. br / br /One star for accuracy, four stars for the effort. I feel stoned February 11, 2008 E. A Solinas (MD USA) 3 out of 4 found this review helpful Sex, drugs and rock'n'roll, and the downward spiral all three can inspire. br / br /Brian Jones was the ultimate rock tragedy, dying young, rich and ruined by his own success and the loss of his lover. But the late Rolling Stones founder deserved a better biopic than "Stoned," which focuses on every part of Jones' life that is NOT interesting or insightful. br / br /The movie opens with two flashbacks -- Jones being confronted about a girl he got pregnant, and an early Stones show. Then it flips ahead several years to when builder Frank Thorogood (Paddy Considine) is being hired by soon-to-be-ex Rolling Stone Brian Jones (Gregory), to do work on his new mansion and the grounds surrounding it. Soon he's fascinated by the mercurial Jones. br / br /Jones himself is lost in memories of his glory days of drugs, sex, jetsetting and exotic music -- and especially his former lover Anita Pallenberg (Monet Mazur), who dumped him for his bandmate Keith (Ben Whishaw). He draws Thorogood into a dangerous game of hedonistic fun, until the degraded builder strikes back at him -- with tragic results. br / br /In theory, Jones was the ideal subject for a biopic -- he lived a short, colourful life full of drugs, art and sex. Perfect subjects for a wild movie. Too bad this movie is actually about Frank Thorogood. br / br /Unfortunately director Stephen Woolley doesn't seem to realize that nobody really cares about Thorogood, or why he murdered Jones. What people want is Jones -- tortured artist, forlorn child-man, girlfriend-beating sadist. Woolley provides brief glimpses ("You're fun to wind up") into Jones' psyche, but there's a lot more of Thorogood getting stoned, whining, and jumping on sleeping women. br / br /How did Jones start the Stones? How did fame and drugs change him? How did he deteriorate until his bandmates had to kick him out? Nope, don't expect answers. Instead we get about a hundred lingering shots of the swimming pool on Brian's estate -- thank you for that subtle foreshadowing, Mr. Woolley. We had almost forgotten that Jones drowned in the pool. br / br /In the end, "Stoned" is remarkable more for what it leaves out than for what it contains. Anita, those illegitimate kids, and Jones' musical skills are all sort of pushed to the side so we can see the big bad rock star mess with a country lad. And Woolley NEVER focuses on his relationship with the Stones. It's a shame, because the flashbacks to the Moroccan vacation are the most intense and colourful of the whole movie. br / br /Leo Gregory does a fairly good job with Jones' personality (too bad they look totally unalike). But star is Mazur as the dangerous, charismatic Anita; it's a shame the affair is basically dismissed as a longtime SM romp. Whishaw and Luke de Woolfson deserve a special shout-out for their portrayals of Richards and Mick Jagger. Neither one has a lot of onscreen time, but they are utterly convincing. br / br /"Stoned" is full of moments that show what the movie could have been, and never was. Instead of a study of a brilliant, manipulative musician, we have a study of how he messed with his gardener. A limp, schizophrenic mess. Yawwwwn! July 24, 2009 Mr. N. C. Mitchell (Manchester, UK) 1 out of 1 found this review helpful Poor Paddy Considine. Such considerable acting talent and yet always in such terrible films. This is typical of populist British filmmaking in that it uses cliched storytelling method after cliched storytelling method to scrape the surface of something that, ten minutes in, we the audience no longer even care about. My heart sank during the very first scene, when the Brian Jones character spells out over the phone exactly what it is that his conversation's about ("7.30 soundcheck? Great.") as if anyone watching is too stupid to understand anything more oblique. Then it just ploughs through a series of aesthetically considered (the costumes are a little too well thought out - to the point where everyone's always so dressed-up, they look like they're ready to step in front of David Bailey's camera), yet ultimately shallow scenes that offer gratuitous, titillating glimpses of nudity and pathetically obvious drug-taking sequences. Anyone who thinks that it's still OK, in 2009, to soundtrack imagery of dandies dropping acid with The Jefferson Airplaine's 'White Rabbit' needs their creative licence revoked. What's weirdest of all is that loads of the scenes seem to be lifted (aesthetically at least) straight out of the Performance film, in which Jones wasn't even involved. The plot (square guy meets hip guy, goes nuts outside of his comfort zone) is even ripped-off that film and, being that Performance was a fictional tale and that this is meant to be a biopic of a real person who REALLY DIED in pretty horrible circumstances, it just seems a little unsavoury. Some originality would have been more, I guess, respectful. br / br /Every line in this terrible film is cheesy and unbelievable. Maybe a three year-old audience could suspend their disbelief here, but with lines like, "Look at yourself, you can't even handle the drugs. Mick can, Keith can. You? You just... fade away," a discerning adult audience really can't be expected to. The acting is diabolical - and I don't mean demonic, I mean rubbish. The scriptwriting is also rubbish - I genuinely felt sickeningly embarrassed during parts of the film. And the acting... well I kind of feel sorry for the actors as they have very little to work with. Paddy Considine gives it a good go and his coughing, spluttering, confused dipstick of a character is pretty well realised. As for everyone else, well they're as wooden as the coffins they'll be unmemorably buried in some day. Just awful. Behind them plays a collage of bland pop bands covering Stones and Dylan songs as if they're in some kind of direct lineage, when the truth is they're simply a cringingly postmodern simulation of those artists. And meanwhile we're left wondering why we've started mindlessly picking our noses (or writing online reviews) instead of paying attention to what's going on on-screen. I have never cared less about a story. Actually, that's not true, I'm a huge Stones fan and know the Brian Jones death theories pretty well and admit to some morbid fascination with the demise of this guitar hero who was, when all said and done, just a guy. But not in this way, not with this script nor these actors. br / br /If only we the audience could rewind to 2005, in some weird pastiche of that year, and remake the event of this film being made. We could do as shameful a job on it as they've done on Brian Jones's story and make the filmmakers SEE for once and for all that they should not be making films. If anyone involved in this awful, too-bad-for-internet-TV movie is reading, please just stop. JUST STOP.

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