As his 40th birthday looms, Boston Globe writer Geoff Edgers is on a mission to reunite the Kinks — a band who spat out a string of hits (“You Really Got Me,” “Lola”) and endured for decades, only to collapse from the sibling rivalry between founders Ray and Dave Davies. Given that these guys are hardly speaking to each other, this self-indulgent exercise seems doomed from the outset — and Edgers isn’t exactly easy to root for.
Here, Narcissus meets Sisyphus, and the results, as documented by director Robert Patton-Spruill, often feel like the cinematic equivalent of chewing on tinfoil. You’re exasperated by Edgers as he tries to suck various music legends into the black hole of his obsession.
But in that ego event horizon, marvelous things occasionally happen — his off-the-cuff jam session with Sting is electrifying. And whether Edgers delights or horrifies you, you’ll likely spend the film muttering, “I can’t believe he’s doing this.”
