“That Runaways script has to be the biggest load of dog crap I’ve ever read. Every other word is ‘dog cunt’ or ‘dogshit, and Joan Jett is always taking a piss or rubbing her crotch. It is really a poor excuse for a screenplay, and I can’t believe that Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart are signed for it.” — Written by a moderately long-of-tooth mainstream journalist friend who read Floria Sigismondi‘s script a day or so ago.

This opinion obviously isn’t the last word, and I’m not so sure I found the idea of Kristen Stewart-as-Joan Jett acting coarse and vulgar unappealing, per se. At the very least this might prompt Sigismondi to consider the possibility that the script needs a little soul and refinement. Does anyone feel otherwise? There must be advocates out there.

The reason I was never into The Runaways is because very few in this country were. The band recorded five albums, toured around the world and met with huge success abroad, especially in Japan, from ’75 to ’79. But they couldn’t connect here. Jett was a headliner and co-founder. The others were Sandy West. Micki Steele, Jackie Fox, Lita Ford, and Cherie Currie.

I’d personally love to see a film about the rise and fall of Bow Wow Wow. I first heard them when I was in London in December 1980, where I’d flown for a Peter O’Toole interview piece I was trying nail down for GQ. I flew back to the States 100% totally mad for “Louis Quatorze” and “Sexy Eiffel Tower.”

I had heard of them a bit when I first arrived, and I remember being at loud party about a week into my stay with some Time Out friends. I was standing with a group of guys and there was this raunchy drum-heavy track playing, and I asked who it was. “You know who it is!” one of them said. No, I don’t, I answered — who is it? “Don’t hand me that shit…you know who it is!” he shouted. I do? “You know it, you know it!” Bow Wow Wow? “That‘s right!”