lundi 5 novembre 2012

Purple Rain

I love Prince a worrying amount.  Like, really love him.  So, I’m not sure why I had never seen Purple Rain until last night.  Maybe because I was three when it came out, but that’s never really stopped me before.

Anyway, I love a classic rock musical and this is definitely one.  A sexy one, with Prince in it.  What’s not to like?  And he’s actually kind of hilarious, in a good way.

And Apollonia 6 is really beautiful.  And Morris Day is a brilliant comedy foil (‘Morris F*ckin’ Day and the Motherf*cking Time’ as Jay [of And Silent Bob] would say).

Yeah, some of it’s a bit hokey.  Yeah, I didn’t really understand why Prince is supposed to live with his parents and is always stropping off to his bedroom when, by my quick calculations, he would have been in his late twenties at the time of filming.

But just when these misgivings would start to take over, there would be some songs.  And – oh my god – the songs.  When Doves Cry.  Darling Nikki.  And, yes, Purple Rain.  That’s some stuff you can’t argue with.

Not that they would work if they were sung by just anyone.  Seeing him on film – and hearing his highly attractive speaking voice – reminded me of what an extraordinarily charismatic man he is and got me wondering if anyone could ever be quite that godstarry again.  Sadly, my conclusion is: maybe not.

Baffled by one of many slightly illogical scenes, my boyfriend asked how come all the candles were lit in Prince’s bedroom when he only just got home.  Through the window, like a naughty teenager, when he was in fact nearly thirty.

‘He probably lit them from down the road – you know, remotely, using his sexual magnetism,’ I explained, helpfully.

I can’t imagine saying that about any of today’s pop stars.  Not even Gaga.

Now I know I am a bit of a Prince pervert.  I often get drunk and tell girlfriends that Prince is in my ‘top five’.  Then the majority of them squeal and exclaim in horror, ‘but he’s like a pervy midget!’ – the others are younger and just ask who he is, again.  (Actually he is 5’ 2” and seven-and-a-half stone – a perfectly intriguing size, I’d say.)  I might see if I can get a grant to do some sort of scientific study – my very academic hypothesis will be ‘if you made a cinema-full of young straight women watch Purple Rain, at least 60% of them will want to do things with Prince’.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  In the meantime, I might just watch it again, a few times, by myself.

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