Warped VINYL

The two-hour premier of HBO’s new mini-series VINYL played like a K-TEL version of Martin Scorsese’s Greatest Hits. You had the New York “I’m walkin’ heah” street gunsels, you had cocaine, you had the ‘70s, a dead body in a trunk, period dress, sleazy Times Square marquees, rich decadent assholes, private jets, champagne, busted knees, and a rock n’ roll soundtrack any lounge lizard with a Plato’s Retreat membership card would be proud to play for a whore he picked up thinking she was a farm girl from Ohio.

The production values were excellent (duh!). All that was missing was Superfly hats, goldfish in platform shoe heels, disco balls, and pet rocks.

If you like the hits of the ‘70s, then this show is for you. Listen to the ‘70s channel on Sirius/XM. What a great time for music. You’ll hear a Led Zeppelin record going into “Sweet and Innocent” by Donny Osmond, followed by “Frankenstein” by Edgar Winter then “You’re Having My Baby” by Paul Anka, topped off with “Billy Don’t Be a Hero” and “Aqualung.” 

My problem was there was nothing in the two hours that was new. And hadn’t been done better elsewhere (in many cases by Scorsese himself). There are a lot of drugs in the music industry. Record companies rip off artists. There are wild parties. Rock stars are divas. There’s an ugly side to the record industry. Oh… sorry… SPOILER ALERT.

Somehow BOOGIE NIGHTS managed to give everyone the same leather jackets and sideburns, the same cocaine and exploitation of talent but still turn out a film that was loaded with original characters, fresh ideas, and startling revelations. VINYL was all the scenes they cut from GOODFELLAS, MEAN STREETS, and THE WOLF OF WALL STREET.  And there's one entire sequence they practically lifted from BOOGIE NIGHTS (and Alfred Molina did it better). 

I’m assuming there was a lot of authenticity. Mick Jagger is one of the executive producers (which probably means he went to two meetings, read an outline, and collected a fortune).   But the entire pilot plot hinges on a complete absurdity.  Andrew Dice Clay is supposed to be an owner of a major chain of radio stations and is banning Bobby Cannavale's record label over some slight.  A) No station would ban an entire record label.  Radio was highly competitive then and a station would be shooting itself in the foot if it didn't play hits, even if they came from the Hitler label.   And B), by 1973 all the top rock stations in the country were owned by large corporations.  The three biggies in LA: KHJ (RKO General), KMET (Metromedia), and KLOS (ABC).   In NY: WABC (ABC), WNEW-FM (Metromedia), WPLJ (ABC). 

I was very excited to see this show. But it’s like a friend telling you there is this amazing steak restaurant, and you can’t wait to go there, and then find out it’s the Sizzler.

On the plus side, Bobby Cannavale is terrific. Andrew Dice Clay is surprisingly convincing as an obnoxious New York asshole, and Ray Romano has turned into a real actor. Not a lot of great women’s parts so far. Olivia Wilde as the wet blanket wife, and Juno Temple as the drug dealing topless sandwich girl.

To be fair, this was only the debut. Maybe future episodes will get better. Maybe they’ll expose a side of the industry I haven’t seen as recently as last week on EMPIRE. Or maybe by week seven we’ll just see a mash-up of the lost scenes from HUGO, THE AVIATOR, and THE LAST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST.

Still, I’m going to hang in there for now (out of respect for Martin Scorsese, Bobby Cannavale, and the decade that brought us string art). But there better be some hits in the next couple of new releases.