Kurt and Courtney is, quite frankly, the damn funniest film I have seen in years. Nick Broomfield poses as a humble doco maker who seeks freedom of speech, but it is painfully obvious from the outset that he all he really is an exploitative, misogynist creep. Not to mention, a damn terrible film maker. The entire film is shot with shaky, grainy hand held cameras and the "evidence" and "witnesses" are about as credible as Broomfield's "talents" themselves. Broomfield chases after an array of scary characters all of whom put in their two cents about Courtney's apparent evils and Kurt's saintly goodness.
There does not seem to be a sane or sober person in the entire movie. Broomfield scoured Seattle's underbelly for a collection of misfits and fuck ups, most of whom only knew Kurt or Courtney briefly or years ago. And, most of them need rehab. From the first interviewee (a punk hanger-oner from Kurt's early days) who is so high on smack that Nick himself suggests she "has a cup of coffee"; to the pot drenched ex-nanny and friend who gaze through half opened eyes and slur answers, to Kurt's acne scarred and wasted best friend (who bought him the shot gun he killed himself with), there doesn't seem to be anyone who the Cobain's associated that isn't on something. Worst of all, is El Duce, the 200 kilo maniac who claims Courtney offered him $50,000 to kill Kurt. Besides having the tasteful resume of being an S&M punk singer, he was so drunk when interviewed by Broomfield that he heaved from side to side pulling "scary faces" at the camera. He then refused to talk unless Broomfield bought him alcohol. Which he didn't.
From this perspective, the Seattle scene looks so damn seedy that it's hard to imagine that anyone could have made it out alive. The only coherent person in the film is Kurt's kooky Christian Aunt Mary, who plays to us songs Kurt composed as a toddler. Meaning, we are forced to listen to five gruelling and eerie minutes of a two year old Cobain banging and squealing. It's fucking terrible. Mary is also the only person in the film who really knew Kurt during his final years, and swears that he was suicidal and that she had expected his death. The most awful character we meet is Courtney's father, Hank Harrison, who is obviously only out to torture his daughter and to capitalise on her life, which mind you, he knows zero about. By his own account he has spent only four months with Courtney since she was two, and in that time, claims to have "disciplined" her by setting pit bulls on her when she was six.
Courtney herself is barely on screen for five minutes, as she had most song and footage rights removed from Broomfield's tasteless grasp. And who could blame her. The only "interview" Bloomfeild manages to get from her is a military style attack on her by himself and two ski-masked paparazzi. He stands up at a freedom of speech benefit Courtney speaks at to heckle her, but is carted off none too gently by security guards. To this, the entire cinema erupted in cheers. The film is a joke, and a laugh out loud funny one at that. I haven't been to a film where the audience laughed so much, in ages. Courtney needn't have tried to ban the film, as it's atrociousness and ridiculousness speak for themselves. In the end, you feel awfully sorry for both Kurt and Courtney- who amongst all this debauchery seem just to be a pair of messed up musicians who fell in love and had to take on on dirty world. You'll want to congratulate Courtney for surviving, and you will understand why Kurt didn't.
marta jary
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nb: these pictures were taken from the collection of marta jary, and are not stills from the film.