Frank (2014) is about a young keyboardist swept up into a new band helmed by a mysterious, masked, titular frontman. It’s a fun watch, and is an indie music lover’s dream, almost excessively so. It dispels the myth of creativity that you have to suffer for art. This is certainly the case for some people, pouring art out of their wounds, but the titular Frank has talent without having a suffering childhood. He does have a metal condition though, so perhaps its best to summarize that the film recognizes both ends of the spectrum. But it also recognizes that suffering cannot substitute for talent, as we see through the main character Jon.
Solid indie flick in terms of productions, acting, etc., though its indie lover’s dreamscape has a deep lack of realism. Characters spending months with each other barely know anything about each other. Somehow the band who produces nothing can afford things.
Popular bands like Grizzly Bear can’t afford much, whether it be health insurance or a new apartment. Seeing the idealized indie dream strewn about throughout the film, especially in rough waters such as these for artists, is downright annoying when you get past the character drama. My historical materialist instincts have had enough.