First I have to preface this review to say I am horribly biased and never claimed to be an expert on film. When writing about film, I'm better at using it as a representation of social issues than telling you about genres and the like. I am a huge spoiler whore even for things I don't watch. If you need a spoiler to a TV show I can probably tell you where to find them. So I may spoil this movie up to the high heavens and never know it.

Now on to my review. It starts with a Documentary type opening before going back to the beginning of the story of Chris Cole, where he is getting ready for his band, putting on makeup - mascara and lip gloss. Never let it be said Mark doesn't know a little about what women go thru. There's the infamous pose next to the life size cutout. And we met Chris' younger brother playing around the albums. The kid is so cute, you prob saw it in the commercials. Do any of you youngster remember records? They were just beginning to push records out to the side when I was a kid. I was after 8 tracks, but my grandma still had a couple when I was growing up. God that makes me feel old! 

We meet his parents, who are just so cool! Never see this type of parents in movies in ages. We see Chris going to a Steel Dragons concert, where he over powers the Lead singer as he's standing in the front of the stage. Later we see the band finding a rival 'tribute band' is ripping all the flyers they had stuck in the cars. The lead of the group British Steel is played by Stephen Jenkins of Third Eye Blind fame (fellow Bay area native and Mark pal -woo hoo!) They get into a major fight in the parking lot after they trade some put-downs and Chris gives him a nice dose of Steel Dragon knowledge (the researcher in me was totally into this and people who talk to me know why)

We meet Chris' older brother who reminds me so much of Pacey's brother on Dawson's Creek.  Right down to the cop uniform and harassing of his little brother. Mom comes in and pulls them apart when they get into a fight in their bedroom. Unlike the Whitter family, The Coles actually support Chris, with Dad talking about the joys of Steel Dragon tunes. I had to hoot when the brother said 'What's wrong with Air Supply?' cause I used to listen to it too.

One of my favorite scenes is when Chris & Emily come to the audition. Chris meets his idol, only to see (the hair is just a wig) and hear some amazing things (the lead is gay and doesn't party hard). And then Chris starts singing in the recording studio. I don't know but to me, Mark is just so cute with those headphones, singing. 

Jennifer who plays Emily, Chris's girlfriend and manager also has a strong presence in the movie early on (tho I wonder if they did cut some of her scenes as rumors suggested), but there's a feeling of something missing in the scenes after Chris becomes lead singer. The separation starts slow and suddenly it's over. The orgy scene that everyone was talking about 2 years ago, was nothing, just suggestions of threesomes and then somes, I've seen worse on PBS. Funny scene that involves the assistant who was involved with the former lead. If you think about it, it makes sense. 

Funniest scene: I am in total agreement with Mark. It's where he spouts in a British accent about the wonders of a sex act ( I won't say what kind, cause it's just killer) for his voice. It's not a bad accent, sounds not quite right as he supposed to be faking it. But I lived with 2 British room mates and watched QAF-UK, so my Brit radar is a bit twisted toward Southern UK/London/Manchester types. And Emily's comeback is icing. You go girl!

The movie is really strong in the beginning, great set up to Chris's rise to fame. But it then seems to start rushing thru scenes (not just the montages which fit nicely), or at least it seems to. Maybe Herek wanted to show the quickness of the Rock Star life thru his editing, but I like plot over style. The story still held together quite well. There seemed to be a missing scene in the pieces of his new life that frustrates Chris so much he will eventually leave. 

It ends as it began, the documentary, where we see original lead singer of Steel Dragons as the new Michael Flatley type dancer and Chris happy to be out of the band and doing his own thing. A few reviewers felt there didn't seem to be one theme. I feel it's not meant to be. Hollywood would love a simple theme, but this is about going back to ones roots, reaching for your dreams and knowing who you are. Like life, it's not simple.

This is my prelim on the music, Mark is singing the songs, but there is definitely a blending of voices. The more Metal music, actually has more Mark than the ballad types you hear later in the film, but there's a bit of Mark's voice in there. How I can tell? Well I listened to the soundtrack and the two singers Jeff Scott Soto and Mike Matijevic have different voices. Both seem a bit higher on the voice scale, with Jeff higher than Mike's, so the lower range we hear in the movie, I would have to say, is Mark. Definitely the scream you hear is all Jeff in the We All Die Young track. And yes Chris has a little rap in there and that's all Mark. If you listen to the music, you can see why Mark thought it was a rap, way faster rhythm than normally. I'm not a music critic either, just my feel.

I'm not a Metal fan, my sister used to torture me with Poison and Motley Crew and whatever hair band she was into. (I played NKOTB and later Marky Mark to get back to her) But the music in here is a blend of the rock genre, much like how the songs Mark sings are blended with the other singers. Interesting thing huh? The soundtrack's not that bad, guitars a bit too much for me - I prefer brass or drums, but nice representation of originals, newish tracks and mid 80s rock. But even a Pop/R & B/Rap gal as myself recognized many of the songs in the movie. I think we might have to get WB to get those vocals on a separate album or at least on a feature/isolated music track on the DVD. And I want those cut scenes Herek cut out for being to left field.

Oh and you have to stay for the credits, I know 85% of you will prob rush off to go to the bathroom, but if you're a Marky Mark fan, there's a take where instead of a Steel dragon tune is Good Vibrations, with break dancers and everything! Then Mark does a whole pimp daddy talk - bling bling! That had the audience rolling. So hol it and wait til they roll thru. 

It's a wonder Mark likes this movie so much, it looked like a blast to do. Go out there and see for yourself. And remember  Dreams do come true!

July 27, 1997 - NY Times
A Metal-Head Becomes a Metal-God. Heavy By ANDREW C. REVKIN

In 1983, when Tom Owens was 16, his older brother brought home ''Screaming for Vengeance,'' an album by Judas Priest, the mournful, chord-crunching British band that was one of the pioneers of heavy metal. From that moment, the portly, baby-faced teen-ager from Akron, Ohio, was smitten.

''His room -- walls and ceiling -- was nothing but posters of Judas Priest,'' recalled his mother, Sherri Owens. 

The fixated young fan celebrated his 18th birthday with a cake iced with an image of the horned monster from the cover of the next Judas Priest album. Soon afterward, exploiting the soaring tenor voice he trained in his high school's madrigal choir, Tim Owens donned studded bracelets and a leather vest and began singing in a string of Judas Priest tribute and cover bands, mimicking every nuance of Judas Priest's vocalist, Rob Halford, from his haunting howls to his habit of closing some shows by riding a Harley-Davidson motorcycle on stage. 

Mr. Owens is now 29 years old, and the walls of his den are still covered with photographs of Judas Priest. But this time, he is in them. In an extraordinarily improbable variant of the all-American success story -- a hybrid of Horatio Alger's rewarded hard work and Walter Mitty's fulfilled fantasy -- Mr. Owens has risen from devotee to icon, from metal-head to metal-god. He is about to be transformed from a hard-working singer in a cover band and a suit-wearing traveling salesman of office supplies into Ripper Owens, the new lead vocalist for the band he once worshiped. 

It is as if a sandlot baseball player not only got a chance to play in the majors but got to be Cal Ripken Jr. A young man whose life for a decade revolved around a particular persona had been given license to assume that identity. 

And although long-lived rock bands often go through changes in membership over the years -- with Judas Priest itself having had more than half a dozen drummers in its 25-year existence -- rock aficionados are hard put to cite any other instance in which a musician from a tribute band moved up to the real thing, and certainly not as lead vocalist. 

Adding to the remarkable nature of Mr. Owens's career move is the fact that he came to the attention of Judas Priest not because he sought the band out but by dint of a grainy, homemade videotape of one of his performances, made without his knowledge by two Judas Priest fans. 

''I still can't quite believe it,'' said Mr. Owens, who still has a Charlie Brown youthfulness in his round face and lives in a neat little frame house next door to his parents in a blue-collar Akron neighborhood surrounded by crumbling factories, junkyards and tattoo parlors. 

''At first I was in absolute awe,'' he added. ''But it gets a little more real every day.''

The group and its manager have been grooming Mr. Owens for his new role, trying to mold an image that minimizes the past. The name Tim is becoming only a memory. Comparisons to Mr. Halford are discouraged. So are stories of birthday cakes, madrigals and mothers. 

''That's not very heavy metal,'' explained Jane Andrews, Judas Priest's manager. ''We don't want to turn off the fans.''

But Judas Priest fans are already fascinated. The legend of Ripper is spreading on the World Wide Web and in magazines like Metal Edge. In a chrome-and-leather universe, one in which metal-heads dress and coif to ape their heroes, one of their own has magically ascended into the heavens. 

The Pudgy Kid From Akron Gets His First Big Break

Like any Horatio Alger tale, the saga of Ripper Owens began with working-class roots, in Kenmore, a close-knit Akron neighborhood of cozy, neatly tended houses in the decaying heart of the post-industrial American Midwest. His father, Troy, works in a jewelry warehouse. His mother runs a baby-sitting service in her living room. His brother, Troy Jr., who first introduced him to Judas Priest, works for the phone company. 

The teen-age Tim Owens, like most of his friends, was drawn to hard rock, but he was musically omnivorous. ''When I was in grade school, we all acted like Kiss,'' he said. ''But I was also going round singing Billy Joel. I was a huge Elvis fan.'' 

His parents shared his musical eclecticism, enjoying the heavy metal sound as much as they enjoyed the Rolling Stones and Dion. Yet unlike his friends, Tim Owens also loved music of the Renaissance, and his supple tenor was at the heart of the prize-winning 16-member madrigal choir at Kenmore High. ''He had the grungy jeans and bandanna and garage bands,'' recalls Sally Schneider, the choir director. ''But he also looked great in a tuxedo singing Orlando di Lasso,'' the Italian madrigal composer. ''He understood that madrigals were the pop music of the time, really radical stuff.'' 

Still, his first love was Judas Priest. On weekend nights, Mr. Owens would stand at the front of the pit at the Akron Agora, a heavy metal club, singing along on every lyric as U.S. Metal, a popular local cover band, bashed its way through Priest classics like ''Victim of Changes.'' 

He watched intently as the band's lead singer, Jim Williams, did his imitation of Judas Priest's Rob Halford. As Mr. Owens sang along with the show on stage, he essentially began his Judas Priest tutorial by mimicking a mimic. 

One night he was noticed by Dan Johnson and Steve Trent, two young musicians who were looking for a singer for a new band. ''Timmy was a little pudgy kid, but he was belting out these songs so loud you could hear him over the P.A.,'' said Mr. Johnson. ''His highs were incredibly shrill. We said to each other, 'What about him?' '' 

Keeping the Day Job, Making Waves at Night

The result of the encounter was Dammage Inc, a band that developed a loyal local following as it played songs by Judas Priest, Metallica, Slayer and Anthrax. But Judas Priest was always the heart of the group's repertory. Even when the band changed its name to Brainicide and shifted its musical style somewhat, Mr. Owens and his friends continued to play what had become a signature song, Judas Priest's ''Victim of Changes.'' 

''There's this point in the live version when Halford holds this 'no, no, noooooooo,' '' Mr. Johnson said. ''And Tim would hold that note infinitely, absolutely as long as he could. Every time, he would stagger around the stage and nearly fall down, deprived of oxygen.'' 

The local mosh pit crowds loved it, and the band attracted a loyal following. But in 1990, Brainicide headed into uncharted territory that one local fan described as ''death metal meets psychotic metal.'' There wasn't much room for vocals, so Mr. Owens left and replaced his first role model, Mr. Williams, in U.S. Metal. The next year, while still playing in U.S. Metal, he also became the vocalist for Winters Bane, a band writing original songs in an almost operatic heavy metal style. 

Married and the father of a little girl (he later divorced and now declines to talk about his family), Mr. Owens also focused more on his day job as a purchasing agent for Akron's oldest law firm, Buckingham, Doolittle & Burroughs. ''At work Tim would be conservative -- no earrings, short hair,'' said Robert Forwark, the firm's purchasing manager. ''We'd go out golfing.'' 

In 1994, Winters Bane recorded an album for a German label, Massacre Records, that sold about 8,000 copies abroad but was never released in the United States. To help raise its profile, the group worked out an effective touring technique in which it booked profitable shows under the name British Steel -- a Judas Priest tribute band -- then opened under its own name. 

''It worked great,'' Mr. Owens said. ''We went from getting $50 a show to $1,000. I'd sing 45 minutes of Winters Bane originals, then put on the leather and do two hours of Priest. People would look up and say, 'Hey, isn't that the same guy?' '' 

Mr. Owens left the law firm and took a part-time sales job, which meshed better with his music. All along, he harbored a dream that he might someday get to meet the real Judas Priest. His wish was partly granted one night as British Steel played in Virginia Beach, Va., the hometown of Scott Travis, Judas Priest's drummer. Mr. Travis, who was at the club, was sufficiently impressed with the band to go on stage and join in on ''Metal Gods,'' a Judas Priest song. 

For Mr. Owens, that was a pinnacle of sorts. ''I was so amazed that I'd met a member of Judas Priest,'' he said. ''I was in awe.'' 

Unaware that bigger things were to come, Mr. Owens stuck to his routine, selling office products by day and singing by night. British Steel traveled from Wisconsin to western New York State, developing loyal fans in towns like Buffalo and Altoona, Pa. 

But metal was fading and grunge was ascendant. In 1995, Mr. Owens followed the musical tide and joined Seattle, a cover band doing alternative rock. He did well in his double life, making enough money to buy a used Jaguar sedan. He had Judas Priest tattoos, but high enough on his arms that they were hidden by the sleeves of golfing shirts. That way he wouldn't raise eyebrows when he played with friends from work at a local country club. 

For a Reborn Metal Band, A Clone Right Up Front

Through the early 1990's, the same musical tide that prompted Mr. Owens to abandon heavy metal for alternative rock had also relegated his longtime heroes to the discount bins in music stores. 

The last time Judas Priest made headlines was in 1990, when a trial judge in Nevada rejected a $6.2 million product liability lawsuit claiming that subliminal messages in a Judas Priest song had prompted two Nevada teen-agers to shoot themselves in the head. The next year, after having sold 15 million albums since 1973, the band essentially dissolved when Mr. Halford quit to pursue other musical projects. 

In 1993, however, the other band members decided to try to re-form and find a new front man. They listened to hundreds of tapes and auditions of talented singers, but no one was quite right. Then, through a remarkable series of chance events, Mr. Owens's vocal abilities and ferocious stage manner came to the attention of his idols. 

The key was a grainy, jerky videotape of Mr. Owens in his Rob Halford role in British Steel, made in 1995 at Sherlock's, a club in Erie, Pa. The tape had been made by a pair of Judas Priest fans, Christa Lentine, a tanning-parlor attendant from Churchville, N.Y., and her cousin Julie Vitto, from Rochester. After the show, the women told Mr. Owens they knew members of Judas Priest. ''They said Judas Priest is going to get this tape,'' Mr. Owens recalled. ''I said, 'Yeah, right.' '' 

In fact, Ms. Lentine was dating Mr. Travis, the band's drummer. In February 1996, as Mr. Travis was packing to go to England for a final round of auditions, Ms. Lentine stuck the old tape of Mr. Owens in one of the drummer's bags. ''I said, 'You've got to check out this guy,' '' she said. ''Scott didn't have any interest. He said they weren't looking for a Rob clone.'' 

Nonetheless, over in Wales, where the band was preparing for the tryouts, Mr. Travis and his band mates decided to watch the video. They were incredulous as they heard Mr. Owens's voice alternately growl and soar and watched him prowl the stage, his black leather and close-cropped hair remarkably similar to that of their former front man. 

''I've seen some amazing things in my life,'' said Glen Tipton, a founding member of the band. ''But I couldn't believe this.'' 

Then came a cascade of phone calls, first from the band to Ms. Vitto to find out if the tape was doctored (''I said, 'Tim's for real,' '' she told them), then from Ms. Vitto to Mr. Owens, who was instructed to call Ms. Andrews, the band's manager. When he telephoned Ms. Andrews, she asked if he had a passport. 

Two days later, Mr. Owens was on an overnight flight to England and then heading by car to the farm in Wales, where the band was holed up. 

''I could hear music inside,'' Mr. Owens recalled. ''I walk in the dining room, and there's this giant table. There's Ian Hill. And then there's Scott way down playing drums. And Glen sitting on an amp, jamming. You're used to seeing them on posters all around your room, and then you're there with them.'' 

Mr. Tipton suggested that his visitor eat something and get some rest after his long trip. He could try singing tomorrow. ''But I said, 'Let's do it now,' '' Mr. Owens recalled. ''There was no way I was going to sleep.'' 

The band, an engineer and Ms. Andrews retreated to a glass sound booth and started rolling a voiceless tape. The song was ''Victim of Changes,'' his old standard. He roared into the first verse, ''Whisky woman, don't you know it, driving me insane -- '' but was interrupted as Mr. Tipton cut short the tape, hit a button and spoke over an intercom: ''You've got the job.'' 

''We'd listened to literally thousands of singers,'' Mr. Tipton said later. ''Russian Eskimos, men, women, people from all corners of the world, knowns, unknowns. But here we knew without a shadow of a doubt we'd found our man. He went out there and completely stunned us.'' 

Mr. Owens sang a few more tunes, including ''The Ripper,'' a dark ode to Jack the Ripper. Mr. Tipton immediately decided that Ripper should be the newcomer's stage name. 

The next morning, Mr. Owens was taken to the airport for the trip back to Akron. His parents picked him up in Cleveland, and as they were driving back to Akron he gave them an autographed picture of him posing with the band. On it was written: ''Mom and Dad, dreams do come true. I love you.'' 

Living an Impossible Dream, At Home and Beyond

Soon word leaked around Akron and then onto the Internet. By May 1996, magazines devoted to heavy metal were announcing that Judas Priest was back. But news of Mr. Owens's success, and his remarkable journey, is only now filtering beyond that arena. 

Mr. Owens signed a deal with Judas Priest last year that will catapult him financially far beyond the world of used Jaguars and old touring vans. Still, through much of last summer, he continued singing with Seattle and selling office supplies. Only now is he planning to switch to an unlisted phone number and move from the street where he grew up. For privacy, he said, he may move to his brother's neighborhood, where one can get a nice place on a 1.3-acre lot for $130,000. He is planning to sell the Jaguar and buy a used Ford Explorer -- something less apt to catch the eye of a fan. 

His parents are undergoing something of a transformation as well. For his 50th birthday, his father got pierced ears and a Judas Priest tattoo on his broad bicep. Mrs. Owens receives frequent calls from Mr. Tipton and the other band members. ''It's like we're in a dream,'' she said. 

The discovery of Mr. Owens has clearly revived the stock of Judas Priest, which recently signed with CMC International Records, a division of BMG headed by Tom Lipsky, who has made a career out of boosting sales of aging acts ranging from Pat Benatar to Lynyrd Skynyrd. 

This summer, Mr. Owens has been splitting his time between Akron and a studio near London, where he recorded the vocal tracks for ''Jugulator,'' Judas Priest's first album of new material in seven years. The album, which Mr. Tipton, a lead guitarist, describes as ''brutal, metal for the 90's,'' is scheduled for release around Halloween. 

Mr. Lipsky, who had heard about the new vocalist through a heavy metal promoter and flew to London in May to listen to tapes, says of the newcomer: ''Ripper is a blessing from above. He's got the power, the range, and he's down and dirty enough to sell it.'' 

Perhaps predictably, a spokesman for Rob Halford, the singer Mr. Owens replaced, is rather less complimentary. Mr. Halford's manager, John Baxter, described the revamped Judas Priest as ''silly and offending at the same time'' and added that it was particularly disturbing to hear members of the band say that Mr. Owens is the best singer Judas Priest ever had. 

For his part, Mr. Owens expresses admiration for Mr. Halford, but he quickly shifts into talking about the future. Now that he has finished recording the new Judas Priest album, his transformation is almost complete. He still has his old band mates and other friends over for barbecues in the backyard in Kenmore. But his old mock Judas Priest costume of leather and studs is in the attic. ''I was just fitted for new gear,'' he said.

NY Times © 1997-2001 ANDREW C. REVKIN