Still Crazy (1998)

Still Crazy is a reunion movie that plays like a great encore: loud, funny, and unexpectedly tender, with the kind of lived-in characters you recognize before they even open their mouths. Brian Gibson lets the comedy come from bruised egos and hard-won maturity rather than cheap gags, and the ensemble—anchored by Stephen Rea’s quietly determined keyboardist and Billy Connolly’s scruffy, scene-stealing charm—makes every backstage squabble feel human. The music isn’t just decoration; it’s the film’s heartbeat, capturing that old, irrational hope that one more gig might set your life back in tune. It’s not for anyone allergic to R-rated rock ’n’ roll excess, but if you’ve ever loved a band, a comeback, or a second chance, this one lands with a grin and a lump in the throat.

Still Crazy wants to be a warm, slightly bittersweet “one last shot” reunion story about ageing rockers trying to reclaim a spark they squandered, and you can feel the affection it has for the band’s messy history. The problem is it often plays like a gentler, more earnest cousin of the sharper rock satires, so if you’re expecting Spinal Tap-level bite and nonstop laughs, the pacing and bouts of straight-faced drama may leave you checking the time. That said, the cast sells the camaraderie well and the music-and-backstage vibe can be genuinely comforting when it stops trying to force big emotional turns. Watch it if you like character-based, midlife-second-chance comedies with some grit; skip it if you want a consistently funny, tightly edited rock romp.