The song “Follow Me” catapults singer Crystal Wyatt (Jennie Garth) to fame and fortune in “Danielle Steel’s Star,” but poor scripting, one-dimensional characters and under-direction make it hard to follow the plot. Good thing it’s so predictable.
Crystal, a ’60s teenager and daddy’s girl, meets Vietnam war-hero/lawyer Spencer Hill (Craig Bierko) at her sister’s wedding on the family ranch. Though the two spend just hours together, it’s true love for both.
Only problem is Spencer goes to New York, where he takes up with the liberated Elizabeth (Terry Farrel). Despite the fact that they have nothing in common — she’s money-hungry and Wall Street bound, he’s an idealist who’s been working for Sen. Robert Kennedy — they wed.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Crystal is raped and, when she seeks revenge with a shotgun, her little brother Jared (Jason Adelman) gets caught in the crossfire. Blamed for his death, she goes to San Francisco to pursue a career in singing. A few guardian angels and lucky breaks later, she is headlining at a club. She eventually makes it to Hollywood, thanks to her sleazy personal manager Ernie (Ted Wass), who wants to get really personal.
She and Spencer run into each other and seek each other out; she tells him goodbye several times, he keeps showing up. After one breakup, she calls him to tell him she’s been arrested for Ernie’s murder. He gets her off, she goes back to the ranch, she tell him goodbye again. (They are reunited at the end.)
Biggest problem is that none of the action or events make much sense. Why go to San Francisco for a showbiz career? Why does she go back to the ranch she’s been banished from? Why would Spencer marry the ultra-Establishment Elizabeth when what he really wants to do is spend two years in China helping earthquake victims?
The pic has a hectic pace, with most scenes (except the sex scenes) lasting about as long as a commercial. Torpid acting gives pic a schizophrenic feel. Only decent perf comes from Wass.
Under Michael Miller’s direction, no one seems quite sure what to do or why. Alex Nepomniaschy’s camerawork is OK, but production from exec producer Douglas S. Cramer and producer Elaine Rich looks low-budget. There are no costumes or details that suggest a particular era; putting glasses on Spencer seems to be the only concession to the passing of time.
If a time and place –“San Francisco, two years later”– didn’t occasionally appear on screen, one would be clueless as to the passage of 15 years.
Considering the fun one could have using showbiz and politics as backdrops, telepic is a real disappointment. However, some might find it a good alternative to Monday Night Football.