Okay, new favorite movie I probably shouldn’t love as much as I do, but I can’t stop watching it whenever it comes on cable—which is all the time lately, especially late at night when I should be working: Prey For Rock & Roll, about Clam Dandy, an all-chick-band in L.A. that’s trying to stay afloat as they age into cats in a game that feels like it was made primarily for kittens. Manages to be both shlock melodrama and forceful character study at the same time. And how does it manage that, you ask? Ya got me. All I know is that Gina Gershon is a sexy little lead singer with a constant sneer and bad dye job, perfect in that way that only she can be when the role seems tailor-made for her (like the terrific, noir-y Bound). With a black lady love too, as the flick opens. Love that Gilmore Girls prep-snob Shelly Cole as the drummer half of a sweet, tragic lesbonic couple with Lori Petty. My fave Soprano, Drea de Matteo, plays the fallen rich girl strung out on drugs and a boyfriend with some weird rape-fantasy. And then there’s Marc Blucas, a vision in tattoo-ed, post- Buffy glory, playing, basically, the girl part in a film full of smart, strong girls—he’s the virgin with the heart of gold, willing to do anything for the woman he loves. The band plays some vague LA post-punk rock throughout the flick, then two songs actually slap you upside the head with how god they actually are: the sad, elegiac “Every 6 Minutes” and the haunting “4 Into 3” which opens these lyrics: “They say it’s lonely at the top/Let me tell you man it kills at the bottom/Well you will never hear your name/If no one knows you how can you be forgotten?” In a movie about dreams deferred, lost, and regained, those lyrics make a subtle point that the movie tries too hard land. But the performances are all sexy and real and felt, and sometimes that’s all you want from a new obsession.