Richard Crouse

Chances are, if you came of age in the 1970s, you helped make Casablanca Records the most successful independent record label of all time. With artists like Donna Summer, Parliament, Gladys Knight, the Isley Brothers, the Village People, Bill Withers and KISS on the roster, founder Neil Bogart sold millions of records and helped define the sound of the 1970s.

“Spinning Gold,” a new biopic now playing in theatres, written, produced and directed by Bogart’s eldest son Tim, is the story of how it happened. Kind of.

“If what you’re after is the truth,” Bogart says, “and not just what happened, but how it happened, then you are just going to have to believe all of it, because every single bit of it is true. Even the parts that weren’t.”

The story of Casablanca Records begins in Los Angeles, 1974. In the late 1960s the former singer and one-hit-wonder Bogart was a successful music executive. His ear for talent accelerated the rise of bubblegum pop, but it was a shock rock band from New York City, with face paint and futuristic stage outfits, that inspired Bogart to start his own label.

Refusing to ever take no for an answer, even after a disastrous label launch featuring KISS, whose pyrotechnics set off the sprinklers, leaving all the music biz big shots in attendance soaked and unimpressed, Bogart took risks no other executive could. Or would.

Flashbacks to his youth detail how the son of a poor Brooklyn postman rose to become a record industry mover-and-shaker. A charming combo of talent and nerve, with a healthy (and occasionally unhealthy) disregard for money, he cut a path through popular culture, following his personal motto: “Why head for the mountaintop when you’re reaching for the sky?”

A kind of “What Makes Sammy Run” set in the music business, “Spinning Gold” is a fast-paced portrait of an old-school show business mogul, a high school drop-out who gambled as big as he dreamed. It is the stuff of dreams and, as such, plays like a kind of fantasy, with Bogart cast as a rock ‘n roll fairy godfather. As played with great energy by Broadway star Jeremy Jordan, he grants people’s wishes and his belief in his own ability to cast a spell over artists and executives alike, is almost supernatural. “We were in the business of making dreams come true,” he says.

It all feels heightened, like a look at the era through a telescope, enlarged to the point where the image is so big it doesn’t feel real anymore. But, unlike other music biopics—think “Bohemian Rhapsody” for instance—“Spinning Gold” has a meta self-awareness, and even breaks the fourth wall to acknowledge, “This never happened!” It’s a fun stylistic choice, but later, the fictional hagiographic elements are tempered by the drugs, money issues and organized crime that enter the story midway through and give the movie a slightly grittier feel.

“Spinning Gold” relies too heavily on voice over—sometimes it feels like there’s more VO than actual dialogue—but, like the man and the music it is based on, the movie is unapologetically large ‘n loud in its need to entertain the audience and it mostly works with an appealing combo of performances and lots of ear-wormy music.

Most of all, as a portrait of a more free-wheeling time—”I’m not saying it wasn’t sex, drugs and rock and roll, because it was, “Bogart says. “But it was sex before it was deadly.”—“Spinning Gold” succeeds not because it gets the details exactly right but because it captures the spirit of a time in the music industry when it was run by dreamers who had passion for the music, not MBA diplomas hanging on the wall.