To portray a bohemian, Atlas Drugged, fallen prima-donna like Jim Morrison is far from elementary. To do it well is difficult. But, to do it realistically AND convincingly, is exemplary.
New respect for Val Kilmer, as I'm still trying to figure out how this 1991 Oliver Stone flick, The Doors, got past me. Its so challenging to portray the world, as seen through the eyes of a supercoked-up phenomenon like Morrison. A delicate but effective performance by Meg Ryan, in an extremely out-of-character role for her.
You can see the humble beginnings of Stone's Dali-esque visual tactics, which he used unabashedly in Natural Born Killers. While it tells the true tale of one of Rock & Roll's greatest legends, it also makes one think about the people we idolize. Morrisson, Cobain, Hendrix - all around the age of 27 when they died, under mysterious circumstances, all attaining pedestals of fame which are near-mythical. And, because of their reckless, devil-may-care attitudes and lifestyles, we have the modern correlated triumvirate of sex, drugs and rock & roll.
Regardless of whether Morrison was idolworthy or not, this movie does not preach that his lifestyle was wrong, or whether his end justified his turbulent lifestyle and habits. In an alternative template, it makes you feel that Morrison lived his life, completely, the way he wanted to, the only way he knew how, and, from the chilling and abrupt final scene, - almost, opening the door of death when he wanted to, when he knew his time had come.
Song of the moment: Riders on the Storm (The Doors)