If you want a movie as dull as a box of rusty razorblades, then Glitter is definitely your ticket. Talk about a snoozefest…
A struggling singer – Mariah Carey – was abandoned by her single, lounge singer mother at a young age and since then, she’s been struggling for professional acclaim and the ability to find her mom. A promoter comes along and offers Billie, the young singer, and her two friends a job in a group. It really turns out to be that Billie is the real singer while another girl, Sylk, gets all the credit for the vocals. A DJ spots her as the real singer and from there, Billie’s career takes off, but can she survive choices between friends and careers? And what, pray tell, will Billie do when the promoter comes back for his chunk of the pie, putting her on-the-rocks relationship with the DJ in peril?
If you’re already bored senseless, then imagine stretching out that overworn plot into a two hour movie. Here’s a shocker: Mariah Carey in my opinion isn’t as awful as everyone made her out to be. She’s barely passable as an actress but I have to say, I’ve seen a lot worse in the past few months. What’s really sickening about this one is the performance of the supporting cast. See Terrence Howard before he was all well-known, cheesing it up as a sleazy promoter. See Da Brat, she of The Surreal Life and rap fame, playing one of Mariah Carey’s best buds in what may be the most annoying yet bland portrayals I’ve ever seen of the best friend/hanger on.
More than anything, Glitter refuses to deviate from the clichés of movies before it, nor does it offer up anything spectacularly original or interesting. Two hours of Maria Carey trying to make her celluloid mark isn’t very interesting at all. I’ve had more fun during dental procedures.
Worse yet, Glitter is set in the ’80’s in a period of dance-pop and New York clubs, something which is decidedly not easy on the eyes. Two words: camel. toe. It’s not pretty and it’s not any easier to look at in spandex, stretch polyester or some sort of silver-y outfit that looks vaguely space age. (You could probably cover the space station with the material from that outfit). It doesn’t bring on any warm feelings of nostalgia to see people running around in hot pink and hats with the brims flipped up; it adds another layer of cringe to an already sad, vapid movie.
The ending of Glitter is indicative of the whole movie: the now-famous, successful daughter shows up in a limo and spangly formal dress to meet her long-lost mother who has turned into Suzy Homemaker out in the country. Trite, boring, and uninteresting, it’s amazing the few theatergoers who braved Glitter made it out of the theater without leaving copious amounts of vomit in their respective wakes.
1416 and Counting 