Gerry Krochak

ROCK BEAT

Film fails at making a Cobain murder plot

Why can't dead rock stars ever rest in peace? It has been 22 years since Elvis Presley was found dead in a bathroom at his Graceland estate, yet to this day he has been spotted in fast-food restaurants, laundromats, and grocery stores around the United States.

Depending on whom you talk to, Jim Morrison and Tupac Shakur have probably been seen hanging out with the King, too.

So it stands to reason that many would question how their favourite rock star would leave this earth.

This question can easily be compounded when there is plenty of juicy gossip floating around.

No one questions whether or not Kurt Cobain is dead.

He is dead as a smelt.

But many a web site, magazine article, and schoolyard Generation-X conversation presents the opinion that Cobain was murdered and did not die of a self-inflicted gunshot wound -- and (the plot thickens) that wretched, violent, manipulative junkie Courtney Love had something to do with it. The Nick Broomfield-directed documentary Kurt & Courtney enjoyed a four-night stand at the Regina Public Library Film Theatre last week and, though it was mildly entertaining, mostly it was hard not to be envious of the crowd that had gathered for the second feature, the Canadian film Last Night.

There are some interesting theories about the death of Cobain, the addicted and troubled, yet extremely talented, early-90's Seattle rock-and-roll icon.

But it's hard not to question the credibility of the shabby conspiracy theorists assembled here.

Who of the largely messed-up and drugged-out "acquaintances" are you gonna believe?

In the end, even Broomfield is left doubting the "murder" of Cobain.

That said, it is Broomfield's job to entertain and provoke, and he certainly goes out of his way to paint Love as the villain here.

And after witnessing his ambush-journalism tactics in documentaries about Margaret Thatcher and Heidi Fleiss, it's easy to see why Love fought tooth-and-nail to stop this film from being made.

Between Love's deranged father, Cobain's best friend, Kurt and Courtney's nanny, Cobain's aunt, Love's ex-boyfriend, detective Tom Grant, Cobain's ex-girlfriend, and a motley crew of hangers-on, the film offers about a 70-30 split as to whether Love did or did not have anything to do with Cobain's death.

If there was the odd coincidence surrounding his death -- and there were a few -- each had as many holes as possibilities.

Perhaps the most eerie of Broomfield's footage is when El Duce, the ex-singer of the porn-metal band The Mentors, claims on-camera that Courtney offered him $50,000 to kill Cobain.

"I should have taken that money," he offered.

Despite the fact that the guy was a complete mess, this angle gained some credibility only because El Duce was found dead after being run over by a train near his house shortly after Broomfield talked to him.

The seemingly scared-stupid-of-Courtney ex-nanny for little Francis Bean (Kurt and Courtney's daughter) also makes your skin crawl with her reluctant comment: "If he wasn't murdered, he was driven to murder himself."

But I didn't buy most of it.

The nanny, El Duce, the detective, and especially Love's father, all rate between eight and 10 on the kook scale -- and most of the others who indirectly point the finger at Love are junkies, dealers, and hanger-ons of Nirvana from the group's Seattle club days.

I didn't much care for this film, but purely from an entertainment perspective, it's worth renting (it is now out in video) for the scene where Broomfield disrupts an American Civil Liberties Union awards dinner and publicly accuses Love, the guest speaker, of manipulating and strong-arming the press.

Being a fan of Nirvana and an admirer of Cobain, I, like a lot of other obvious Nirvana fans at the Regina Public Library Film Theatre, absolutely had to see Kurt & Courtney.

Now that I have seen it, I am still a fan of Nirvana and Kurt Cobain, I do not hate Courtney Love -- and I wish I would have stayed for the nine o'clock screening of Last Night.