Those of us of a certain age may remember Motley Crue a few different ways. There's the early Crue — forgive me: Crüe —  that was as weird as it was dangerous. The pants. The makeup. The music.

Then there's that other Crue — the one that really didn't have so much to do with the music. In fact, it was pretty much everything but the music. The sex. The drugs. The various near-death experiences.

And finally, the reunions and farewells. And it's all captured in the 2001 book The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band, and soon in the movie of the same (if abbreviated) name.

There's always been a lot going on with Motley Crue. It's 1980s glam metal. (Or hair metal, if you prefer.) It's guitar riffs that are deceptively simple, yet have lasted decades. (That's always the best kind of music, right?) It's spinning drum kits that fly over the crowd. It's Vince Neil's piercing vocals — high, but decidedly different than the obviously pained falsetto from so many others of that era.

I don't know if this movie is going to be any good. For sure there have been as many bad band movies as there have good ones. But certainly riding on the success of the Queen biopic Bohemian Rhapsody can't hurt.

And at the very least it'll be fun to listen to Crue songs in a theater setting. It might well be worth the price of admission just for that.

But no matter how good the story may be — and to be clear, it's most certainly one hell of a story — and no matter how well the actors may hold up such a story, this much is for certain:

There's only one Mötley Crüe.

Fandango VIP