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In this task, you are given a text of many news articles seperated by special token "|||||". Your task is to summarize them.

The Runaways 
  
 March 17, 2010 
  
 An all-girl rock band is named and trained by a rock manager of dubious sexuality, goes on the road, hits the charts, has a lesbian member and another who becomes a sex symbol, but crashes from drugs. This is the plot of a 1970 film named "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls," which inadvertently anticipated the saga of the Runaways five years later. Life follows art. 
  
 "The Runaways" tells the story of a hard-rock girl band that was created more or less out of thin air by a manager named Kim Fowley. His luck is that he started more or less accidentally with performers who were actually talented. Guitarists Joan Jett and Lita Ford are popular to this day, long after the expiration of their sell-by dates as jailbait. The lead singer, Cherie Currie, co-starred in the very good "Foxes" (1980) with Jodie Foster, had drug problems, rehabbed, and "today is a chain-saw artist living in the San Fernando Valley." The ideal art form for any retired hard rocker. 
  
  
  
 The movie centers on the characters of Jett (Kristen Stewart), Currie (Dakota Fanning) and the manager Fowley (Michael Shannon). Jett was the original driving force, a Bowie fan who dreamed of forming her own band. Fowley, known in the music clubs of Sunset Strip as a manager on the prowl for young, cheap talent, told her to give it a shot, and paired her with Currie, whose essential quality is apparently that she was 15. That fit Fowley's concept of a jailbait band who would appeal because they seemed so young and so tough. He rehearses them in a derelict trailer in the Valley, writing their early hit "Cherry Bomb" on the spot. 
  
  
  
 Shannon is an actor of uncanny power. Oscar nominated for a role as an odd dinner guest in "Revolutionary Road" (2008), he was searing as he turned paranoid in William Friedkin's "Bug" (2006). Here he's an evil Svengali, who teaches rock 'n' roll as an assault on the audience; the girls must batter their fans into submission or admit they're losers. He's like a Marine drill sergeant: "Give me the girl. I'll give you back the man." He converts Cherie, who begins by singing passively, into a snarling tigress. 
  
  
  
 The performance abilities of the Runaways won respect. The rest was promotion and publicity. The film covers the process with visuals over a great deal of music, which helps cover an underwritten script and many questions about the characters. We learn next to nothing about anyone's home life, except for Currie, who is provided with a runaway mother (Tatum O'Neal), a loyal but resentful sister (Riley Keough) and a dying, alcoholic father (Brett Cullen). Although this man's health is important in the plot, I don't recall us ever seeing him standing up or getting a clear look at his face. 
  
  
  
 So this isn't an in-depth biopic, even though it's based on Currie's 1989 autobiography. It's more of a quick overview of the creation, rise and fall of the Runaways, with slim character development, no extended dialogue scenes, and a whole lot of rock 'n' roll. Its interest comes from Shannon's fierce and sadistic training scenes as Kim Fowley, and from the intrinsic qualities of the performances by Stewart and Fanning, who bring more to their characters than the script provides. 
  
  
  
 Another new movie this week, "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" from Sweden, has a role for a young, hostile computer hacker. Stewart has been mentioned for the inevitable Hollywood remake. Reviewing that movie, I doubted she could handle such a tough-as-nails character. Having seen her as Joan Jett, I think she possibly could. 
  
  
  
  
  
 Note: Many years ago, while I was standing at a luggage carousel at Heathrow Airport, I was approached by a friendly young woman. "I'm Joan Jett," she told me. "I liked 'Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.'" 
  
  
  
 Just sayin'. ||||| The strength and beauty of "The Runaways" are that it tells the truth. It doesn't always tell the literal truth about the pioneering all-girl rock band, the Runaways, though it gets the basic facts and most of the details right. More crucially, it conveys precisely what it was like to be young in the mid-1970s, a peculiar juncture in American social history. Back then, there was an almost post-apocalyptic feeling in the air, that all norms had been tossed aside, that nothing mattered, that the whole country and the world had spun out of control. 
  
 Other films have attempted to convey this. Ang Lee's "The Ice Storm" got a piece of this feeling, but it couldn't get all of it. Its failure was that it was, in a sense, too good a movie, too artful. "The Runaways," by contrast, is precisely the kind of gritty, seamy and occasionally awkward picture that the 1970s deserve. And in getting that one thing right - in capturing that strange combination of despair and frustrated energy - it gets everything right. It explains why kids needed rock 'n' roll, and why the Runaways still mean so much to those who remember them. 
  
 Based on "Neon Angel," the memoir of lead singer Cherie Currie, "The Runaways" tells the story of the creation of the band, focusing mainly on Joan Jett, who became the group's rhythm guitarist and principal songwriter, and Currie, who was discovered by Jett and producer Kim Fowley at Los Angeles nightclub when she was 15. They liked her look ("a little Bowie, a little Bardot") and had no idea whether she could sing. She could. 
  
 To be a teenager can feel like being stuck in mud. The world is alive with promise and excitement, but you can't get to it. You have no power. But music gives the feeling of power, the illusion of it, and sometimes that's enough to keep you sane. Currie (Dakota Fanning) and Jett (Kristen Stewart) start off as rock-obsessed high school misfits, Currie with a falling-apart family and an obsession with David Bowie, and Jett with her leather gear and a dream of becoming a female rocker - of a variety that did not yet exist. "The Runaways" shows how rock 'n' roll can save your life and almost wreck it. 
  
 Jett done perfectly 
  
 The soundtrack includes artists that influenced the Runaways (such as Suzi Quatro), original Runaways recordings and live re-creations of Runaways songs, with Fanning singing lead vocals. It all sounds terrific, though it must be said that Fanning isn't half the singer Currie was. Where Fanning excels is in suggesting the misery and confusion under the assumed air of teenage cool, and the gradual loss of herself to all the pressures and the drugs. She becomes the prime whipping girl for Fowley, ably played by Michael Shannon as an almost demonic presence, part sadistic idiot, part rock 'n' roll seer. 
  
 Stewart, known mainly for mumbling and stumbling through the "Twilight" movies, is the revelation here. She has made a meticulous study of Jett - of her posture, her manner, her expressions, even in the way thoughts cross her eyes. And she has Jett's stage manner down, the way this seemingly shy person assumes total authority when she gets up to play. The visuals help - the costuming and art direction are spot-on. 
  
 Unlikely pair 
  
 At the heart of "The Runaways" is Fanning and Stewart and their portrait of an unlikely friendship between two very different teenage girls - a friendship that, for a time, becomes very close indeed. It's also a showbiz story, of one girl who just didn't want success bad enough, and another who recognized her chance and clung to it like a lifeline. 
  
 Some will complain, understandably, that "The Runaways" ultimately tells a downbeat story that drifts and fades into a diminuendo. It feels ungainly, as though something else - something big - should be happening. But no, the filmmaker knew exactly what she was doing: It just wouldn't be the '70s if it didn't leave audiences with a cocaine hangover. 
  
 This article appeared on page E - 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle ||||| Late in The Runaways, Michael Shannon’s cold-blooded Svengali Kim Fowley dismisses the seminal ’70s all-girl punk band of the title as nothing more than a failed conceptual project. Those are the bitter words of a star-maker cavalierly tossed aside by his own creation, but there’s an element of truth to them as well. Like the Sex Pistols, The Runaways combined raw punk anarchy and cynical commercial calculation. They were prefabricated yet authentic, the product of estrogen-fueled rage and a sleazy music-industry lifer intent on exploiting ripe teenage sexuality. There is a fascinating film to be made about Fowley’s slick commoditization of adolescent rebellion, but in her numbingly familiar feature-length debut, writer-director Floria Sigismondi apparently isn’t interested in Fowley so much as she is in giving rock ’n’ roll movie conventions a distaff spin. 
  
 A disturbingly precocious, scantily clad Dakota Fanning stars as Cherie Currie, a spooky David Bowie super-fan who more or less stumbles into a gig as the Runaways’ lead singer. The dead-eyed talent vacuum that is Kristen Stewart co-stars as Joan Jett, a snarling badass whose tomboy attitude and songwriting perfectly complemented Currie’s purring sex kitten onstage, on record, and in bed. 
  
 Yes, The Runaways is as filled with softcore underage lesbian sex as it is with rock-movie clichés, from the montage of rapid-fire ecstatic magazine and newspaper covers that take the group from obscurity to superstardom (in Japan, at least, where the locals have a weakness for young girls in tight pants) to the use of blurry, distorted visuals to convey Currie’s ever-deteriorating mental state during the proverbial nightmare descent into booze and pills. Shannon plays Fowley as the P.T. Barnum of the Sunset Strip, a prankish provocateur whose tough love for his protégés looks an awful lot like emotional and verbal abuse. Shannon gives the film an unpredictable, live-wire energy, but as it staggers into its third act, Shannon more or less disappears from the proceedings, and the film focuses intently on Currie (whose memoir inspired the film) and Jett (who executive-produced). The Runaways were the first major all-girl punk band. In honor of this distinction, they’re now the first major all-girl punk band to inspire a bleary, excessive, and altogether mediocre big-screen biography. ||||| "Come on, you filthy pussies, let's rock and roll." 
  
 That trash talk is aimed at Kristen Stewart, 19, and Dakota Fanning, 16, stars of Twilight: New Moon, by Michael Shannon, in fierce, flamboyant form as evil-genius manager Kim Fowley. Kim is cursing the girls as members of the Runaways, a pioneering band of five jailbait rockers from broken homes that he wants to turn into the female Beatles. 
  
 Peter Travers reviews The Runaways in his weekly video podcast, "At the Movies With Peter Travers." 
  
 Stewart gives as good as she gets. She's playing Joan Jett, 15, the shag-haired guitarist, singer and songwriter who co-founded the Runaways in 1975 and went on – after the L.A. band dissolved in 1979 – to achieve star status as a solo act. Fanning has it tougher as Cherie Currie, 15, a blond Valley girl molded by Kim into the band's lead singer and jerk-off fantasy. Cherie is so naive she almost breaks down. In a killer scene early in the film, written and directed by — music-video whiz Floria Sigismondi, Kim preps the girls for life in a man's game. Rehearsing in a crummy trailer, the girls are hit by bottles, cans, dirt and dog shit tossed by Kim and his toadies. Cherie is told to sell the sexual heat in a song Kim and Joan create for her: "Hello, Daddy, hello, Mom, I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb." 
  
 The "Cherry Bomb" scene is a raunchy blast of rock history. And Fanning and Stewart, who do their own singing, seize the moment. As Kim tells Cherie the dirty secrets of rock, "Fuck you, fuck authority, I want an orgasm!" she shows him what a wild child can be. 
  
 Fanning scores a knockout. And Shannon, as the "Frankenstein motherfucker," is a fireball of potent perversity. Sadly, The Runaways fades into dull predictability. Joan must wait for Cherie to screw up on drugs and sex (the make-out session between Stewart and Fanning is delicate to a fault) so she can step in and front the band. Stewart is just getting rolling when the movie ends. But face it, The Runaways is based on Neon Angel, Currie's 1989 memoir. She's the only one who gets a backstory. 
  
 Get more news, reviews and interviews from Peter Travers on The Travers Take. 
  
 The result is a walk on the wimp side. Guitarist Lita Ford (Scout Taylor-Compton) and drummer Sandy West (Stella Maeve) barely register in their own band. And Alia Shawkat shows up as an amalgam of Runaways bassists. Jett served as a producer, but the script never shows what drives her. What's left are colorful scenes of life on the road, especially in Japan, where the girls hit it big with a live album. But there's no sense of rock anarchy. Say what you will about the Runaways – they never played it safe. The movie does. |||||
Output:
Critics praise the performances in The Runaways, about Joan Jett's seminal '70s band, but whether the flick succeeds is up for debate. Some takes: "Say what you will about the Runaways," Peter Travers writes in Rolling Stone, but "they never played it safe. The movie does." He wants more out of the verboten relationship between Dakota Fanning's Cherie Currie and Kristen Stewart's Jett. Still, "Fanning scores a knockout." The movie "gets everything right" about the decade's "strange combination of despair and desperate energy," writes Mick LaSalle in the San Francisco Chronicle. And Stewart "is the revelation here," not Fanning. The highlight is Michael Shannon's "fierce and sadistic training scenes as Kim Fowley," the group's "evil Svengali" manager, Roger Ebert writes in the Chicago Sun-Times. Granted, Stewart and Fanning "bring more to their characters than the script provides." And there's "a whole lot of rock 'n' roll." Beyond the "softcore underage lesbian sex," there's not much to recommend, writes Nathan Rabin for the Onion AV Club. "The Runaways were the first major all-girl punk band. In honor of this distinction, they’re now the first major all-girl punk band to inspire a bleary, excessive, and altogether mediocre big-screen biography." Fanning is "disturbingly precocious" and "scantily clad," while Stewart remains a "dead-eyed talent vacuum."