Sadly Over-hyped

Just so...so bad

Boring, long, and too preachy.

Great example of an old-fashioned, pure-at-heart escapist event movie that doesn't pretend to be anything that it's not and has boat loads of fun being its own ludicrous self.

I stumbled onto this series while watching a Kenny Loggin's video on YouTube. It took just about 30 seconds of episode one before I knew I was hooked. If you like music of this period (Late 70's to mid-80's) you are going to be in for a treat. This series is a favorite in many radio stations that play Adult Pop music, simply for the inside jokes. You'll never be able to look at Hall and Oates again w/o a smile after watching this series. Plus you see how Michael McDonald didn't like the band Toto, and the feud between The Eagles and Steely Dan. Brilliant writing...The chronology of some of the songs and events are a little off...probably with good reason, but who cares, right? It all adds up to the hilarious ending with episode 12.As I mentioned, there are just 12 episodes, and that's all you need. Any more and it might have worn out it's welcome. The production quality improves with every episode, and since it was a quality job from episode 1, it just gets better and better as you watch.Episode 5 w/Michael Jackson, and 11 w/the "Footloose" storyline are probably the best.2013 Update: I go back once a year or so and re watch the series. It really gets better with age. I found myself liking a couple of episodes I'd not been too thrilled with, back in 2010 when I wrote the original review.

This gritty, hard-hitting rockumentary sheds light on a musical genre that generally gets short shrift---Yacht Rock. These actors, all dead-ringers for the music legends they portray, bring these misunderstood troubadors to life, and bring us a rare gift---the opportunity to see the story behind the beloved hits, and to relive those moments EXACTLY AS THEY HAPPENED. The profile of John Oates of the hit-making duo Hall and Oates was particularly revealing and provocative. And who can see the tragedy of Jim Messina, cast aside by superstardom-bound Kenny Loggins, living on the mean streets of Marina Del Rey and not shed a single, reflective tear? I'm a man, and all-man, but I'm not ashamed to say I wept like a small child. Koko would have given this a knowing nod of approval, had he not died in 1978. Only because there's no eleven yet, ten of ten.