A perfectly cast Riley Keough headlines Prime Video’s mild, pleasant ’70s rock reverie.
Half an hour intoDaisy Jones & the Six,Timothy Olyphantarrives twice.
To that point, the show has mainly been bad wigs.
Riley Keough and Sam Claflin as Daisy Jones and Billy Dunne.Lacey Terrell/Prime Video
Taylor Jenkins Reid’s bestselling novel built an oral history around a fictional rock band’s rise and fall.
The series reformats into an unconvincing faux-documentary, with obvious thirtysomething actors playing dreamy ’70s youthandmiddle-aged interviewees.
The tone is a bit Bee Gees’Sgt.
Riley Keough as Daisy Jones.Lacey Terrell/Prime Video
Pepper’s, authentic as a Vegas residency.
Then Olyphant head-bops onscreen as tour manager Rod Reyes.
The talking-head future renders him a silver fox with a flirty scarf.
“Enough with the political s—!”
is his world-weary advice to a wannabe-Dylan.
“No one needs reminding that the world is a mess.
People want to feel good again.”
Olyphant’s costume-rack theatricality signpostsDaisy Jones' excessive charm.
Loveless Hollywood luxury raises Daisy into a club kid who knows every bouncer on the Strip.
British keyboardist Karen (Suki Waterhouse) joins later.
Those six become the Six, who Daisy won’t meet until episode 3.
Meanwhile, Billy goes out of control, even as his romance with Camila accelerates.
“Same old tired rock and roll tale,” the elder Billy recalls.
“The drinking, the drugs, the loneliness.”
It’s worse than tired with the mockumentary stuff, so many future selves overexplaining obvious dramas.
The twin origins take so long.
Then this rock rolls.
I should admit, I’m a sucker for the setting.
More myth than fact, of course, andDaisy Jonesuncovers sordid truths behind the music.
Daisy blows male minds when she dares to write her (HER!)
Simone suffers that plus racismandhomophobia.
Worthy tales, though showrunners Scott Neustadter and Will Graham are more comfortable printing legends.
Daisy lifts the Six’s popularity and challenges Billy’s authority.
The stupendous fifth episode tracks one day in the co-frontpeople’s combustive partnership.
Keough excels at self-destructive self-confidence; consider this plumb role Amazon’s apology for dead-wifing her inThe Terminal List.
When Daisy grabs Billy’s mic in their first performance, you sense brash moxieandimperial selfishness.
Is she a woman claiming her voice or a rich girl stepping on a mill-town boy?
Keough’s pop supergenes add another layer.
You want to feel Billy repressing the tiger force Daisy thirstily embraces.
After his early spiral, he almost retires for his family.
So every step toward fame (and Daisy) is dangerous.
If he becomes interesting, he might implode.
The ex-boozer monogamist and the Chateau-dwelling free spirit hate each other, might love each other.
That’s obvious from the opening credits, but intriguing dramas invigorate that dynamic.
We know calamity awaits; the premiere establishes a complete break-up in 1977.
The journey there surprised me, moving from broken-glass music joints through fraught recording sessions into a doomed tour.
The songs are original.
The actors play their instruments.
I don’t hear a single, frankly, and the group looks as okay as your garage band.
I miss garage bands, though, and this one is exclusively model-pretty.
Graham’s flirtation with Karen is a bit whatever, but Waterhouse looks rad as hell on the keys.
Whitehouse finds real tragedy in a bassist smart enough to know he’s history’s bystander.
Chacon is a hoot as the guy who wants druuuuuuuugs and chiiiiiiicks.
Simone ventures afield into the rise of New York disco, which1.Is cool and2.Always feels like a different show.
Veteran character actor Wright makes Teddy a lovable father figure and the least music sleazy producer ever.
There’s a Greek Island episode, it’s silly and lovely.
Timothy Olyphant, too!
“Rock and roll should be passion, pain, anger!”
Eddie declares, and the material invites the firecracker guitar-hero stylistics ofThe DoorsorLadies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains.
Does this sound fun or ridiculous?
It’s a bit of both, but I grooved on the easy listening.
In the end, heaven help me, I cried about a wig.Grade:B+
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