Joan Jett was my Bowie.

In fact, when my orthodontist asked which band I’d like to see play my small town, I offered Bowie instead of Jett, whose mid-80s were so unpopular outside of my home I wasn’t sure he would remember who she was.

I have the greatest admiration for Kristen Stewart (more below). Dakota Fanning has long been a source of fascination. Since she was the youngest star in Hollywood, I’ve pretended she was my favorite actress as some sort of running gag. Friends I’ve lost touch with have been known to reach out to me after seeing her on a talk show the act was so strong.

Kim Fowley, the music biz figure who assembled The Runaways is on my short list of people I’ve most wanted to see a movie about because of his career on the edge of greatness and his over-the-line scumbag persona he perpetuates. Fowley is played by another actor I greatly admire – Michael Shannon. So, even the Twilight-obsessed have nothing on me when it came to waiting for The Runaways, the film about the teen girl rock pioneers. And the movie gets so much right. Carol Beadle’s costumes and Benoit Debie’s cinematography get the look and feel. But it’s the toilets and trailers, the chain link and leather that capture the real story. A perfectly framed gate closing on Cherie Currie (Fanning) once she’s stepped into the rock world, indicates director Floria Sigismondi understands that  rock music is not only about fulfilling your dreams, but also that those dreams are usually phony and often misguided.

The film also gets the music just right, celebrating the jams and providing the perfect links of glam and punk that define the sound of the Runaways and Jett’s career that would follow. Unfortunately, the movie hits a little soft. It’s more Almost Famous than Sid and Nancy – not necessarily a bad thing – but when we should be feeling the gut-punch of Currie’s family struggle, we’re back to everything since Jett’s own acting debut Light of Day. Likewise, Currie’s addiction story comes a few years after the parody Walk Hard confirmed that this has been overdone. But there is no denying Kristen Stewart. Rarely do rock biopics feature lead performances, like Joaquin Phoenix in Walk The Line, who created a real character rather than offering two hours of one spotlight-grabber impersonating another. Stewart manages both a spot-on recreation of Jett while also fleshing out a real character. I’m convinced she’s the future of Hollywood.