Kieran Turner's fascinating documentary of doomed early 1970s glam-rock singer Jobriath, arguably the first openly-gay celebrity in post-Stonewall America. Several years before Elton John admitted in a print interview that he was bisexual, Jobriath released two non-charting albums before slowly, painfully realizing the country wasn't ready for an in-your-face effeminate rock star. Born Bruce Wayne Campbell in Philadelphia in 1946, the gifted young man from a broken home began to paint and write music at an early age. A featured performer in the L.A. touring company of "Hair", the self-christened Jobriath Boone eventually came in contact with music manager Jerry Brandt, a maestro of hype with money and connections (and a yearning for celebrity himself), who entered into a 50-50 split with the singer (patterned after Elvis' pact with Colonel Tom Parker). Jobriath wrote and recorded his songs for Elektra while Brandt saturated east coast media with publicity on the heretofore unknown singer, a plan that backfired when the public turned out to be completely indifferent to Jobriath's complicated musical arrangements and Ziggy Stardust-like persona. Looking back, maybe all Jobriath needed in these early stages was a hit single. Unfortunately, his records, in a glam rock-meets-opera groove, weren't catchy or commercial. This story of a desire for fame in the modern age, narrated by Henry Rollins and featuring a host of interviews from people who were there, turns out to be a paint-by-numbers free fall to Earth, but an intriguing and devastating one. Jobriath was ahead of his time, certainly...and yet one wonders, will the times ever catch up with Jobriath? *** from ****