There are premises to films which are so damn good that it does not matter how shoddily put together the actual film is, you still come out feeling warm towards it. Grand Theft Parsons is one such film. The script is as poor as the supposed pun in the title. Apparently the story is about as loosely based on the actual theft of Gram Parsons body as the story of the Flood in the Bible was based on a wet day in downtown Jerico. And even the characters made up to pep the thing along (mainly a shrewish Christina Applegate) add nothing to the tension.

Yet despite the films many flaws, it is nice to watch a stoner comedy about someone fulfilling a promise to a dead friend. With regards to the films attitude towards Gram Parsons, it only speaks well of the dead (despite plenty of hints to a much darker reality). In particular the film rakes together six or seven of Gram’s best solo stuff to fill the soundtrack with – though many people might get the idea that it was actually Emmylou Harris who had died. Which is why it is so strange, and a bit blasphemous even, to accompany the funeral finale with Movin’ On Up by Primal Scream.

A film you want to like, which really, really tests your patience sometimes. Its supposed to be a funeral after all…

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