There’s a long review of the new Cobain documentary in the film section this week by Stranger Associate Editor Emeritus Sean Nelson. Here’s the beginning:

The chief criticism of the new experimental documentary Kurt Cobain: About a Son, advanced by Manohla Dargis in the New York Times and furthered by clever bloggers everywhere, is that were he alive, Kurt Cobain would hate it. This projection isn’t relevant—since he’s not alive—nor particularly damning, because, frankly, who cares? Why should the subject like the documentary? Did those greedy Bible hucksters like Salesman? Did Robert Crumb like Crumb? Could anything matter less? More importantly: The whole point (I hesitate to use the word “tragedy,” though it certainly felt like one) about Cobain, consecrated by his mirthless image on posters down the ages and reinforced dramatically in the film, is that he didn’t like anything about himself for very long…

The rest of it’s right here.

Now please enjoy this picture of a dead bird.