i thought the movie the doors was good hollywood fun.  this effort also sounds good.

thank god, that stone one was shit, really terrible, acting was awful, cept kilmer for the first time

it was pretty much all shit except for val kilmer

and if you knw the doors, as in read of them etc it was exaggerated, amean its typical oliver stone that way i guess, but still terrible

i remember reading ur guy who played mazarek i think, hes in desperate housewives now, mclachlan, i think thats it, he auditioned and wanted to play morrison, how shit a film would that have been lol

any way good news!

lotsajizz wrote on Jan 11^th, 2009 at 6:09pm:


Word. 

Zack wrote on Jan 13^th, 2009 at 8:16am:


great review. first doors album i really got into. strange days #2

I can't wait until I see that movie "When You're Strange" I know the Doors had a film crew film, filming everything back in '68, I was a regular fan of rock magazines back then & this was often mentioned, I can see how Ray M. feels back the Oliver Stone movie, I mean he was there, & knew Morrison very well, I remember John Densmore being interviewed after the movie came out, & he said the one scene of them going into the desert & doing acid never happened, he said he would never do acid with Morrison, he was too crazy, but I liked The movie, I found it very entertaining.

Thanks, Tumbly.     I do make a few bucks as a writer - but not about music unfortuntately.

Why, thank you.  You know Jann Wenner by chance? 

OK, to prove I'm not a one-trick pony, I also did LA Woman.  (Then I'll stop.)

Here goes:

For the record, Jim Morrison did NOT show his cock on stage. He definitely led a shocked audience on that hot steamy Miami night in March 1969 to believe that he was going to whip it out, but more than 150 photos from the infamous concert were introduced into evidence at his subsequent trial for felony lewd and lascivious behavior, and not one captured his willy in the spotlight.

Morrison was nonetheless convicted of the alleged offense and sentenced to six months of hard time; the case was on appeal when he died.  Miami not only threatened Morrison’s liberty – it nearly ruined the Doors’ career. Tours were cancelled, and venues willing to book them insisted on a “fuck clause” of $5,000 to be forfeited if any obscene act took place on stage. Just when all seemed lost, the Doors managed to restore their artistic credibility with Morrison Hotel, their strongest album in three years.   But their charismatic leader was a shattered man. Habitual heavy drinking began to take its toll: Morrison's nerves were shot, his relationships in tatters. With long, lank hair, huge beard, and ragged army jacket, he looked homeless – and if you don’t count a seedy motel – actually was. The young Dionysus of 1967 was gone forever.

Not surprisingly, the rest of the Doors were in a panic as they watched their franchise going down the drain. In desperation, they stoked Jim's creative fire by suggesting they do a bluesy album – something he often talked about doing – in a laid back setting at their rehearsal room, rather than a studio.  Long time producer Paul Rothchild, however, was having none of it. Having sweat bullets to maintain musical standards amid Morrison's antics on five previous studio albums, he dismissed the new material as weak and walked away, leaving production duties to engineer Bruce Botnick and the band.

Thus was born a new, short-lived, era for the Doors. The sound of Morrison’s voice on the new album, L.A. Woman, was little short of shocking: those golden pipes had transformed into a near-unrecognizable husky growl, yet possessed a new maturity and appeal. Behind it, the band played their hearts out in their funkiest style ever, and sustained musical excellence throughout the disc. “Love Her Madly” was a slice of irresistible radio pop from Robbie Krieger; original blues “Cars Hiss By My Window” featured Morrison's vocal imitation of a guitar solo following some of the old lyric menace. The tripartite, eight-minute title cut, among the Doors’ finest work, was a self-portrait that introduced Morrison’s mythologizing anagram Mr. Mojo Risin,’ which ironically portended a mysterious end for its author.

In “Hyacinth House,” Morrison exposes his own interpersonal conundrum: “I need someone who doesn’t need me.” The rapped verses of the delightful “Texas Radio and the Big Beat” include two of Morrison’s greatest-ever one liners: “I’ll tell you this, no eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn” and “Out here on the perimeter there are no stars/Out here we is stoned, immaculate.”

The album’s finale, appropriately, is a second, and for the group, final epic. The song hated by Rothchild most of all, “Riders on the Storm” nonetheless managed to package a sordid tale of murder on the highway into a hit single, thanks to catchy keyboard work from Ray Manzarek and an irresistible after-midnight ambience atmosphere. The Doors' final song ended with Morrison's vulnerable plea to his long-suffering girlfriend, Pamela: “Girl you got to love your man./Take him by the hand, make him understand.”

Sadly, that never happened. Jim and Pam left for an extended holiday in Paris while the others were still mixing the album, arguably the Doors' best.  Just days after getting a call from drummer John Densmore informing him that L.A. Woman was a big hit and rising fast in the charts, the Lizard King lay dead in his hotel bathtub, more than likely of a heroin overdose. Perhaps Jim Morrison, 27, just couldn’t live with any more success.

It will put the Oliver Stone movie to shame. God I hated that movie. "We can change the world man".