I have a confession to make. It's a dark secret that has stuck with me for years, haunting my every move, and threatening to bring the empire I have built with this blog crumbling down. It could destroy my credibility as a reviewer in the process, but I'm going to get it off my chest.
I saw Graffiti Bridge in theaters. Twice. And at the time, I liked it.
Don't you judge me!
I was young! I didn't know any better! I was blinded by my admiration for Prince and his work, and as everyone knows, there's a level of forgiveness inherent with being a fan of anything. I have defended Prince's second major motion picture, Under the Cherry Moon, as being a silly but entertaining musical comedy/romance, and it's a belief I'll take with me to the grave.
With age often comes wisdom, however, and as I matured I began to appreciate the art of filmmaking more and more. I began to suspect there was a reason there were no more than a dozen people in the theater either time I saw Graffiti Bridge, and several of them decided it wasn't worth staying past the halfway point. Resultantly, I could no longer deny the truth. Graffiti Bridge is a cinematic disaster on every conceivable scale.