If you grew up obsessed with 1970s rock, you probably have a poster of Joan Jett or Cherie Currie somewhere in your brain. They were the blueprint. But there is a massive difference between the glossy, neon-soaked version of their story we saw in the 2010 biopic and the gritty, uncomfortable reality captured in Edgeplay: A film about the Runaways.
Honestly? It's a tough watch.
Vicki Blue, the band’s former bassist, directed this documentary, and she didn't come to play nice. While Hollywood likes to package rock history into neat little arcs of rebellion and redemption, this film is basically a wake-up call. It's about teenage girls being thrown into a meat grinder. It’s about Kim Fowley. It's about what happens when "jailbait rock" becomes a business model rather than just a marketing gimmick.
Why Edgeplay: A film about the Runaways hits different than the biopic
Most people find their way to this documentary after seeing the Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning movie. That movie was fine. It had great clothes. But Edgeplay: A film about the Runaways is the actual pulse of the band, even if one major heartbeat is missing.
Joan Jett isn't in it.
That is the elephant in the room. Jett, arguably the most famous alum, refused to participate and even denied the use of the band's original music for the soundtrack. It's a weird experience watching a documentary about a band where you can’t hear their biggest hits, but in a way, it makes the stories more haunting. You aren't distracted by "Cherry Bomb." You’re forced to listen to Lita Ford, Cherie Currie, Jackie Fox, and Vicki Blue talk about the trauma of being fifteen on the road.
Lita Ford doesn't hold back. She’s blunt. She talks about the power dynamics and the sheer exhaustion. You realize quickly that while they were pioneers of women in rock, they were also kids.
📖 Related: The A Wrinkle in Time Cast: Why This Massive Star Power Didn't Save the Movie
The shadow of Kim Fowley
You can't talk about this documentary without talking about Kim Fowley. He was their manager, their creator, and, depending on who you ask in the film, their tormentor. The documentary paints a picture of a man who used psychological warfare to keep the girls "in line."
One of the most infamous stories involves Fowley allegedly bringing a dog into the rehearsal space and... well, the stories vary on the specifics, but the intent was always the same: shock and control. He wanted them tough. He wanted them mean. He wanted them to sell.
Edgeplay: A film about the Runaways captures Fowley on camera, and he is exactly as eccentric and unsettling as you’d expect. He views the band as a project. A product. He doesn't seem to have much regret about the emotional toll the experience took on the members. It’s a stark contrast to the way we usually view "star-makers."
The Jackie Fox revelation
For years, there were whispers about why Jackie Fox left the band. This film digs into the fractures. While the most harrowing specific allegations regarding Fox and Fowley would later be detailed in a 2015 Huffington Post expose by Kim France, the seeds of that discomfort are all over Edgeplay. You see the shell-shocked look in the eyes of these women as they recount their teenage years.
It wasn't all parties. It was isolation.
The film uses a lot of creative B-roll and reenactments because they didn't have the rights to the footage everyone wanted. Normally, that would make a documentary feel cheap. Here? It feels claustrophobic. It feels like a fever dream. It mirrors the actual experience of being trapped in a van across Europe when you're barely old enough to drive.
👉 See also: Cuba Gooding Jr OJ: Why the Performance Everyone Hated Was Actually Genius
A fractured legacy
The Runaways didn't end with a hug. They ended with a whimper in a dressing room.
The internal politics were a mess. You had Lita Ford, who wanted to play heavy, technical rock. You had Joan Jett, who was the heart of the punk-rock aesthetic. You had Cherie Currie, who was being marketed as a sex symbol before she was even an adult.
- Lita Ford went on to heavy metal stardom.
- Joan Jett became a Hall of Famer and a mogul.
- Cherie Currie went into acting and, eventually, chainsaw carving (yes, really).
- Vicki Blue (Victory Tischler-Blue) became a filmmaker.
- Jackie Fox became a lawyer and a Jeopardy! champion.
Watching them as adults in the film—older, wiser, and some clearly still carrying the weight—is a trip. They aren't the posters on the wall anymore. They are survivors of a very specific type of 70s rock-and-roll exploitation.
The soundtrack of silence
Because Joan Jett controlled the rights to the music, Vicki Blue had to get creative. The film features a score that mimics the era without actually using the songs. It’s jarring at first. You want to hear the riff. You want the catharsis.
But the silence is the point.
The documentary is about the people, not the product. By stripping away the catchy songs, Blue forces the audience to look at the faces. She forces us to listen to the anecdotes about the Japan tour, where the girls were treated like the Beatles while simultaneously being broke and controlled by their management.
✨ Don't miss: Greatest Rock and Roll Singers of All Time: Why the Legends Still Own the Mic
They were the first all-girl band to really make it internationally on their own terms (sort of), and yet they saw almost none of the money. That’s a common story in music, but it’s sharper when the victims are children.
Why you should watch it in 2026
We are currently in an era where we are re-evaluating how we treated young women in the limelight. From Britney Spears to Pamela Anderson, the "reckoning" is here. Edgeplay: A film about the Runaways was ahead of its time in that regard. It didn't wait for a movement to tell the truth. It was released in 2004, back when people were still mostly romanticizing the "debauchery" of the 70s.
It’s an essential piece of rock history because it deconstructs the myth.
If you're a musician, it's a cautionary tale. If you're a fan, it's a reality check. It doesn't make the music less great—"Queens of Noise" is still a masterpiece—but it adds a layer of complexity that makes you respect what they accomplished even more. They did it in spite of the system, not because of it.
Actionable insights for the rock historian
If you want to truly understand the legacy of the band after watching the film, here is how to piece the puzzle together:
- Read "Neon Angel": Cherie Currie’s memoir is the literary companion to this film. It fills in the gaps that the documentary's legal constraints couldn't cover.
- Compare the Perspectives: Watch the 2010 The Runaways movie right after Edgeplay. Notice what the Hollywood version cleans up. Notice who is centered and who is sidelined.
- Listen to the Solo Career Shifts: Trace the musical evolution from the Runaways' last album, And Now... The Runaways, to Jett's Bad Reputation and Ford's Out for Blood. You can hear the relief in the music.
- Research the 2015 Disclosures: Look up the investigative reporting on the band's time in the mid-70s. It provides the legal and social context that the documentary could only hint at due to the era it was produced in.
The Runaways were a flashpoint in culture. They proved that girls could play loud, fast, and dirty. But Edgeplay: A film about the Runaways ensures we don't forget the price they paid for that proof. It’s not a "fun" rock doc. It’s a necessary one.