Here’s Why I’m Giving ‘A Star Is Born’ a Hard Pass

Nov. 8, 2018
by Rykkei Vistara

Sometimes, I feel like the whole Hollywood machine plays against itself — and loses.
Yes, on the rare occasion, such as this one, not even the massive hype surrounding a film – the Gaga-Cooper affair rumors flying around, that played-to-death ‘Shallow’ song – nay, not even the numerous Oscar nods this thing is about to rack up – can convince me to pay good money and sit through a flick. The over-saturation has, in fact, completely put me off of the whole thing. I know, you’re thinking every movie these days bombards us from all directions in such a way, or you’re shaking your head in pity because I’m missing out – and you might be right; I’m a huge fan of Bradley Cooper’s body of work, and have seen Gaga live twice, so this may very well be a fantastic movie. But here’s my real beef with the 2018 version of A Star Is Born:

I have seen the original 1954 movie, with the inimitable James Mason and the truly-divine Judy Garland, about a bazillion times. It remains one of my all-time favorite movies to date. In fact, it took my mother a damn long time to finally get me to sit down and watch her favorite version of the movie, the 1976 vehicle starring Kris Kristofferson and Barbra Streisand.
I pouted. I squirmed. I loved it (albeit begrudgingly) and have watched it many times since.

To me, these movies are canon, deeply ingrained in my heart and mind as timeless masterpieces. Any addition or variation thereof feels like a betrayal of something I hold dear to my heart. It’s like…  it’s like, imagine someone, someday attempts to blaspheme against all that is holy and remake The Princess Bride. Would you see it? Would you go?? Of course you wouldn’t. Because some things are sacred. Some things can’t NOT be compared to their predecessors, prequels, earlier versions, the book they’re based on – in other words, the original.
I love Gaga and Cooper, but I don’t NEED another version of this movie, thank you very much.

I’ll leave you with this thought: If you were alive on May 19, 1999, stood in line the entire previous day with your group of nerd friends to buy tickets, lined up again to score ‘primo’ seats (to use the lingo of the day), and then, at the stroke of midnight, were among the first to attend the premiere screening of Star Wars: Episode 1 – The Phantom Menace, you know that deep, burning feeling of utter betrayal I speak of.

Sometimes, Hollywood, despite the money and accolades, you just need to leave well enough alone.

P.S. Speaking of violating all that is sacred, are you even entertaining the notion of seeing that new Aladdin version Disney is about to sling at us? I’m going to avert that shitstorm by hiding at home, firing up the old DVD player, and watching Robin Williams be the only blue-assed genie we ever needed. Don’t even @ me!