Logan Lerman is giving up lightning thievery to star in The Only Living Boy in New York, an indie film "in which a young man (Lerman) learns that his overbearing father is having an affair. The son tries to stop it, only to become involved with the woman as well." Kinky! But the most interesting part of this news is the movie's title, which references the classic Simon and Garfunkel tune. Turns out when you put together a list of movies based on song titles, the results are pretty uneven. Where will The Only Living Boy in New York figure in this dubious group?
Let's list these titles from best to worst. Keep in mind we haven't included movies like Purple Rain, Across the Universe, Mamma Mia!, La Vie en Rose, Walk the Line, or even Stayin' Alive. We're dealing only with movies that use song titles as launching points, not as indicators of a larger meditation on the original artist. Also keep in mind that dozens of other titles apply here. (Anyone seen this?) We're just offering a spectrum of quality. Leave your own favorites in the comments below.
Best
Paper Moon: Peter Bogdanovich's 1973 Depression-era caper matches the whimsical lilt of the classic jazz standard "It's Only a Paper Moon" with the tale of an unlikely duo of scam artists. Few films compete with Tatum O'Neal's Oscar-earning debut as Addie Loggins, Ryan O'Neal's most convincing performance ever, and the jovial supporting talents of Madeline Kahn as Trixie Delight. (Am I the only one who finds it painful to write down Madeline Kahn's name? Twelve years later, her death is one movie star passing I can't reconcile. She was too unbelievable.)
Stand by Me: The 25-year-old coming-of-age story captures the Ben E. King classic's yearning for companionship and tacks on a loving portrait of the early '60s. The movie created such a resurgence for the song that the original version became a Top 10 hit for the second time in 1986.
Dazed and Confused: This '90s teen classic took the disorientation of Led Zeppelin's early masterpiece and built on it a hilarious Gen X slacker hit. It's not an artistic triumph, per se, but Dazed and Confused's cult status and platform for starmaking (everyone from Matthew McConaghey to Ben Affleck) makes it indispensable. (Though, sadly, you don't hear any Led Zep in the actual film.)
Mediocre
Girls Just Want to Have Fun: We can always use more movies about dance-centric TV shows, I say. (Still waiting for that Solid Gold movie!) Sarah Jessica Parker plays a boogie-riffic teen who finds an ideal dance and romantic partner in Lee Montgomery. Helen Hunt co-stars as her best friend! Due to licensing restrictions, Cyndi Lauper's signature hit is covered by Deborah Galli, Tami Holbrook, and Meredith Marshall here.
Harper Valley PTA: One-hit wonder Jeannie C. Riley's story song about an uppity PTA member and her defiance over "Harper Valley hypocrites" is toasted faithfully in this Barbara Eden campfest from 1978. The legendary Nanette Fabray assists as Eden's friend who helps her get back at the school board's pompous brats. So inessential as a comedy, but it's an unmistakable member of the "movies based on songs" genre.
Ode to Billy Joe: Bobbie Gentry's haunting '60s ballad (spelled "Billie Joe" then) about the grim goings-on in a Mississippi Delta town received a justified screen adaptation in this '76 drama starring Robby Benson and Glynnis O'Connor. As if the image of the desolate Tallahatchie Bridge isn't spooky enough, the titular man kills himself after having sex with his male boss at the sawmill. The film's director, Beverly Hillbillies star Max Baer Jr., also tried securing the film adaptation rights to Madonna's "Like a Virgin" in the '80s.
Worst
Jolene: Dolly Parton's finest achievement in songwriting is a heartbreaking, vulnerable acoustic jam, but the 2008 indie drama based on E.L. Doctorow's story Jolene: A Life (which is based on the Dolly tune) wastes great casting on a typical -- and somewhat exploitative -- hard-luck tale of abuse and aimlessness. Jessica Chastain shines as our titular hero, but this movie's too dawdling to be resonant.
Jumpin' Jack Flash: Whoopi Goldberg's streak of eye-poppingly bad cinema in the '80s kicked off with Penny Marshall's directorial debut. This spy comedy, in which Whoopi shouts hysterically at the radio when she can't parse Mick Jagger's lyrics, was rewritten several times on set. A disaster of this magnitude deserves its own poetic inspection, much the way Jean-Luc Godard explored another Rolling Stones classic in his film Sympathy for the Devil.