Director Allen Coulter’s Hollywoodland
posits itself as a Hollywood murder mystery, and it’s
true that it has at its center, in the death of actor George Reeves, a doozy of
a high-profile homicide. But a straight historical whodunit this isn’t — Hollywoodland is instead very much a
film about the warped intersection of celebrity, ambition and regular life, and
the unique commingling of aspiration and desperation that its Tinseltown
setting produces.

Gadfly private investigator Louis Simo (Adrien Brody) has a
wife and young son in the Valley, but he still has a single man’s irresponsibility
hardwired to his being, hustling tips for whatever jobs he can from a former
partner. When he’s advised that the distraught but somewhat estranged mother
(Lois Smith) of Superman TV star
George Reeves (Ben Affleck) isn’t buying the official police ruling of suicide
in the death of her son, Simo sees not only a lucrative payday, but also a high-profile
gig that will boost his shingle for years to come, and get him out of the cheating-hearts
business of stringing along petty, paranoid husbands who’re convinced their
wives are cheating on them.

Simo dives into the case, and finds all sorts of
incongruities, including some strange bullet holes in the floor, and potential
signs of a struggle. The film, then, flashes back to show us Reeves’ long-term relationship
with older woman Toni Mannix (Diane Lane), the wife of film executive Eddie Mannix
(Bob Hoskins), a powerful and more than slightly menacing figure at MGM. Eddie knew
of the duo’s arrangement, and tacitly approved — after all, he had his own
mistress. But Reeves’ eventual shaking free from his “kept-boy” chains (while
Toni kept him living in comfort and style, he resented that she never did more
for his career), and subsequent engagement to money-hungry fiancée Leonore
Lemmon (a perfectly off-balance Robin Tunney), may have earned him enmity that could
have fueled a hasty, jealous attempt on his life — one that could then look
somewhat like suicide.

At least this is what Simo speculates, and the film
indulges. Hollywoodland cops a bit of
its moves from L.A. Confidential, there’s
no doubt, but the set and art design work is so superlative, that you find
yourself quickly immersed in its world, and giving in to its yarn of multi-layered,
overlapping motivations (a dilemma that the recently released, somewhat similar
The Black Dahlia never conquered). The
problem is that the flashback structure (we bounce around from 1951 to ’59) is somewhat
at odds with Simo’s present day investigation, and the film lacks a clear resolution.
Definitive “truth” need not be uncovered, but restiveness must be quelled by
some sense of finality. Hollywoodland
doesn’t have that.

While there’s an admirable, very adult restraint in Hollywoodland’s refusal to offer up a
single, wildly conjectural opinion on the death (as well as, I’m sure, some
very compelling legal reasons not to do so), in the end the movie doesn’t quite fully gel and pull off the feat of
leaving you shaken, stunned or wowed by the canvas of conspiratorial hush-hush
it presents. What it does provide the
opportunity for is a nice display by its cast, particularly Brody and Lane, and a collection of ambitious, damaged characters more alike than they realize. Even
casual film fans will be caught up enough by these performances to find more reward
than complaint in Hollywoodland.

Presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen that preserves the
aspect ratio of its initial theatrical exhibition, Hollywoodland comes with matching English and French language Dolby
digital 5.1 surround sound audio tracks, as well as optional subtitles in
English, Spanish and French. An audio commentary track with Coulter kicks off
the slate of supplemental features, and it’s a nice, relaxed chat in which he
discusses scene-to-scene directorial choices, and talks a lot about the
collaboration with various actors, including Brody, for whom he has much
praise. There’s also a five-minute collection of deleted scenes, which further
flesh out Simo’s investigations. A trio of short, comparative featurettes on
the recreating of old-time Hollywood round things out, lending
more appreciation for the film’s behind-the-scenes players, since much of it
was filmed in Canada. B (Movie) B (Disc)

Responding to the brutal 2005 storms that caused billions of dollars worth of property damage (and untold psychological harm) to his home state of Florida, rocker Rick Derringer rounded up some of his old cohorts — friends that included some of classic rock’s biggest names — for a special one-night-only event. Dubbed “Musicians for Disaster Relief,” the concert at Orlando’s Universal Studios raised several hundred thousand dollars for charity, and now the show comes to DVD in the form of Rock Relief, where a portion of proceeds from its sale will benefit the same-named charitable trust.

Kicking off things nicely is Loverboy. If you’re like me, when you think Loverboy, you think of three things: “Workin’ for the Weekend,” Chris Farley and Patrick Swayze. Their sketch about an audition for a final slot at Chippendale’s remains a Saturday Night Live classic, and has left an indeliable visual marker on that tune for me. “Turn Me Loose” (which I oddly heard on the radio three times in one day recently) is an underrated era gem, and solidly performed here; “Hot Girls in Love” and “Lovin’ Every Minute of It” are also included.

Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider (“The Price”) and Derringer himself follow suit, the latter with a loose-limbed version of “Hang on Sloopy” and a more feel-good, less sneering “Rock & Roll Hoochie Koo.” Allman Brother Dickie Betts contributes “Ramblin’ Man” and “Southbound,” but the show highlight may be 1980s pin-up Eddie Money, whose “Two Tickets to Paradise,” “Take Me Home Tonight,” “Wanna Go Back” and “Baby Hold On” deliver a sort of goofy, joyful catharsis. The hooks on those songs are much stronger than one might remember.

The odd man out here is Michael Bolton, creepily shorn just as he was creepily long-locked back in his stronger days of FM suckitude. Contributing “When a Man Loves a Woman,” “Rock Me Baby” and a cover of the Otis Redding staple “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay,” Bolton’s set, though short, still feels like an unwelcome change-up coming as it does amidst all of the up-tempo rockers presented here.

There are unfortunately no supplemental extras on this 90-minute disc (even a brief interview with Derringer on the impetus for his involvement would have been nice), but the well-captured tunes offer up a lot of reminiscence, and it’s all for a good cause. B (Concert) C- (Disc)